by Annie Dyer
Her laugh was muffled into my shoulder. “Could you really not wait?” Her words were almost covered by laughter.
“No. I need to get under those skirts and taste my wedding breakfast.”
She giggled again. “I can’t believe you just called it that.”
My determined face changed into a scowl. “Neither can I, but I can’t go the whole night with a full on erection. It’s indecent. And that dress is just designed to tease me.”
“It was exactly what I was going for.”
I pushed the door open with my hip and took us both straight into the bathroom.
It wasn’t the worst one we’d ever fucked in. And there had been a few.
“How mad are you going to be if I mess your lipstick?”
“Brought it with me; just avoid giving me beard burn.”
I stopped the rest of the sentence with a kiss that was meant to be sweet but instead devoured her. She tasted of the elderflower drink, fresh and sweet, but her kisses back were anything but.
There was a wide long wall, opposite the toilet and sink. I pressed her against it, her hands running up and down my back, fingers digging into my arse. This was going to be quick; it couldn’t be anything other. We had four dozen people waiting for us to celebrate our marriage.
But we were going to celebrate it first.
I dropped to my knees and rustled her skirts. Layers on layers of material guarded the secrets of what she was wearing underneath.
“Can you take your tits out of that thing and play with them? I want my mouth on them as soon as you’ve come.”
“Bossy much?” She reached arms behind her. “You need to undo me.”
I stood back up, cursing while she turned around and presented me with a trail of buttons.
“Just undo two.”
I never knew my fingers could be that nimble that fast.
She was back against the wall again, her tits already out before my knees hit the floor. I looked up and saw her pinching her nipples as I fought through her skirts to get my mouth exactly where it needed to be.
There was a garter, the colour possibly blue, but it was fairly dark under her skirts. My cock felt like it was about to erupt without even a touch, but that was the Victoria Effect, the one she still had and had never eased off.
I kissed my way up her thighs, totally surrounded by her skirts, letting my fingers climb up the back of her legs, making her part her thighs for me. I could smell her musky arousal, could feel heat radiating from her centre. One quick flick with my finger told me how wet she was already, the very top of her thighs smeared with her juices.
She moaned as I pressed the tip of a finger inside her. The sensation of fingering her slowly made my cock thicken and pulse, the breaking point was far away. Her skirts rested against the top of my head as I reached the apex of her thighs with my mouth. I inhaled and dug every ounce of my self-control out from wherever I’d stored it before taking my tongue to her clit. I licked lightly at first, teasing, but neither she nor I were in the mood for a marathon; her pussy had contracted tightly around my finger, her need to come clear from the moans and whimpers I could just about hear through the material.
I started to suck on her clit, my finger rubbing that sweet spot just inside her. Her thighs tensed, her tell that she was on that glorious precipice, about to come. I pressed another finger inside her, feeling the start of her orgasm. Her body shuddered and I heard my name.
As soon as she stopped coming I moved out from under her skirts, dropping my trousers and underwear, needing to get inside her. Her tits were out of her dress, nipples hard and rosy from her own touch. I bent down to one, took it in my mouth and sucked gently, knowing that they had become more sensitive in the last few days because she was pregnant.
“Max, just get the fuck inside me.”
I let go of her nipple with a slight pop. “What’s that, Feisty? What do you want me to do?”
“Fuck me. Now.” She bent her leg around my waist, her eyes blazing. “I need you inside me, and this will be the only time I ever say this, we need to make it quick.”
There were voices outside, someone asking where we’d gone.
“Shit.”
Both my hands went to her hips, lifting her. She locked on to my waist with the other leg and held on to my shoulders as a I lined my cock up at her entrance. The moment I entered her I saw stars, blazes of golden light. Pausing was the only thing I could do, needing to breathe, needing to look at her and see the person who was my whole world.
“Fuck me, Maxwell. I’m nearly there.”
Her hips urged me on and I started to move, fast thrusts that took me balls deep. Victoria started to tighten around my cock and I knew I was going to go, possibly the quickest ever time as I was fucking my wife for the first time.
“Feisty, fuck me, you feel so good.” I moved her on my cock, using her as if she was a toy, only her yell as she came again followed by a stream of dirty words that praised exactly what my dick was doing to her fell from her mouth.
I came hard, deep, feeling as if everything was being pulled from me into her, which I suppose it had in so many ways.
I held her as our breathing slowed, my forehead pressed against hers. “I wish we were in bed right now.”
“I know. But you can spend the rest of the night knowing what we just did. Being married doesn’t mean sex gets boring.” She pressed a kiss to my mouth. “And I’m pretty sure that if I wasn’t pregnant already, that would’ve just done it.”
I laughed quietly, easing out of her and making sure she was able to stand before I let go.
“We’re not walking out of here separately. I don’t care if everyone knows what we’ve just done.”
“I need to clean up first.”
I helped her, became a husband who did the buttons up that he’d undone in a hurry, rearranged skirts and told her that her lipstick looked beautiful once she’d reapplied it and helped me get if off my face.
“Do I look presentable?”
I stopped with my finger on the lock of the door. “You look thoroughly fucked.”
She grinned. “I feel like that claimed me more than the ring.”
I opened the door and saw Seph and Callum, standing there, both with beers held up in a toast.
“Good work,” Seph said. “Now come and entertain your guests.”
So we did.
25
A pair of binoculars – from Killian to Nick
Lainey
“Have you seen Seph?” Payton frowned at me via the mirror. I was trying to fix my eye make-up that had gone horribly wrong at some point, and I was in danger of looking like a forlorn panda.
My make-up situation was unimportant. There was no one here to see me apart from members of my family and their significant others; no clients to charm, no men to flirt with – not that I had flirted with anyone for ages – and no one to care whether I was wearing make-up or not.
It was a getaway. The calm before the storm. In a few weeks, I was moving to the north and opening my own stables and therapy practice, similar to the one where I’d been partner, four hour’s drive from New York. Small town England, not dissimilar to small town Ireland where I’d grown up every summer and most holidays.
“I haven’t seen Seph since breakfast.”
Payton frowned. “No one has. He’s not answering his phone either.”
Which was weird, because Seph was pretty much glued to his phone. “Has anyone found his phone? Maybe he’s gone out for a walk or something.” I glanced out of the window. The snowfall had eased since Christmas Day, but another few inches were forecast in the next couple of days before Callum and Wren had their wedding ceremony in their barn.
“He’d have asked at least four of us if we wanted to go with him first, and then made Mum make him a packed lunch.” Payton looked around the room. “You set for the move?”
I put down the eye contour brush and looked for the remover. This wasn’t working. “Pretty much
. I’m due to sign a contract on the property next month and then we have a provisional completion date mid-Feb. That’s if my new neighbour doesn’t manage to wangle the place.”
Payton grinned. “I heard about him. In fact, I think I met him once when we went to visit Vanessa's gran. Cute, blonde hair, looks like a surfer?”
I nodded and took a long inhalation of breath. A cleansing breath, because I needed it where Jake Maynard was concerned. “That’s the one.”
“At least you’ll have something pretty to look at.”
“I’m not interested in anything pretty to look at. I want to get my stables up and running and the therapy centre, not have to deal with half-witted country boys who think they have a god-given-right to every farm in the area.” I felt the tension rip through my shoulders. Severton was the perfect place for me; the back end of beyond in a beautiful part of the world, where I could hopefully become part of the fabric of the place.
My sisters and Shay preferred the city; I wanted to remain where it was quieter, where I didn’t need to see people too much and strangers were someone I chose to interact with because I could help.
I was definitely not on the market for a man.
Payton shrugged. “That’s exactly what I said before I met Owen.” She pulled out her phone from her jeans pocket. “I should have Seph’s whereabouts on this app. Hang on…”
I wiped off the eye make-up and remoisturised, watching what Payton was doing through the mirror.
“His phone’s still in the house.” She shook her head. “This is really not like my brother. He hates being on his own.”
“Have you checked with the others?”
“Max and Vic are in London for their doctor’s appointment and I think they’re going to spend the night at home before coming back for Callum’s ceremony thing. I haven’t seen Claire or Killian since breakfast – they’ve taken Eliza out somewhere with Nick. Ava hasn’t seen him. Shay was still in his sweats and T-shirt playing some computer game and just grunted at me when I asked, so he could’ve seen Seph.” Payton put a hand on her belly.
“I’ll go and speak to Shay. Could Seph be playing the same game from a different room?” I knew exactly what my brother was like when he had a few days off from work with no women to take back to his room: an overgrown man child. He reverted straight back to being thirteen.
“Maybe. I thought I’d looked everywhere but he could’ve been moving around. I’m going to grab Owen and walk over to Callum’s. He might be over there.” She gave her stomach another pat and walked out of the room, looking determined.
I reapplied my eye make-up, doing a much better job the second time round. As much as I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, I loved girly things. Make-up, clothes, styling my hair. If my parents had allowed me to get away with it, I’d have become a make-up artist or stylist, but that wasn’t on the list of acceptable careers, especially after Maven had decided to pursue a degree in creative writing.
I closed my bedroom door behind me and headed out to find my brother, hoping he’d showered, because if he hadn’t we were likely to have to declare a major environmental incident. The idea of him and Seph rooming together was one I hadn’t got my head around: they were too similar and their ability to look after themselves did worry me.
And I was trying not to worry any more.
Shay was in the media room, his games console linked up to the huge screen down there. I stood for about three minutes before he actually realised that I was there.
“Fuck, Laine. I hate it when you sneak up.” He paused his game.
I should’ve been bowled over by the complement. However, I really hadn’t tried to make him jump.
There was no use explaining that though.
“Have you seen Seph today?”
Shay looked thoughtful. “I saw him this morning, about eight. He woke me up when he left the cabin.”
“Did he say what he was doing today?”
Shay held out his arms, controller in one hand. “Don’t know, I wasn’t listening to him.”
“No one’s seen him since breakfast.”
Shay frowned. “He’s a fully-grown man, he doesn’t need to tell people where he’s going. He might’ve had a hook-up somewhere. I don’t know.”
“His phone is still here, and this is Seph we’re talking about. If he had a date,” I refused to use the phrase hook-up, “don’t you think he would’ve told you about it.”
There was another pause from my brother before he nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” Shay stood up, stretching his six foot something build, and squinted at me. “You’re really bothered about where he is, aren’t you?”
“It’s weird that he’s not about, or told anyone where he’s going.”
Shay put down the controller. “I’ll go and have a look for him. He can’t be far.”
Two hours later and we were none the wiser where Seph was. We’d checked the outbuildings twice and all of Callum’s barns and stables; Eli had walked to the pub in the village to see if he was there, but they hadn’t seen him since he’d fallen through the door after Max’s wedding.
“I’ve been through his stuff,” Payton announced as she came into the kitchen where we were congregating. “And I phoned his neighbour – he hasn’t been back home.”
Marie sat down with a cup of tea. Out of all of us, she’d been the least worried, still was.
“Has he gone missing before?” Immy was still trying to defrost her feet from the snow. She’d been out to the treehouse across the garden, thinking that Seph might’ve gone there for some reason.
He hadn’t.
“You couldn’t lose Seph if you tried,” Jackson said. Teddy was sitting on his knee, fascinated with his dad’s hair. Vanessa was curled up beside him, half-asleep although it was only five in the afternoon.
Marie put the tea down on the side table. “Seph did go missing when he was seven. Ava and Payton were at a birthday party and it was only Grant and Seph in the house. When I came home, Grant asked where Seph was – he’d thought he’d gone to the party too because he hadn’t been seen for so long.”
“Where did you find him?”
Marie smiled. “In the loft. There was a toy car racing track up there that had been Callum’s and Seph had been desperate to get it down to play with. He somehow managed to get up there and then the loft door closed. You can’t undo it from the inside.”
There was a moment of silence. A couple of people took a sip from their drinks. Payton nibbled on a biscuit.
“You think we should check the loft?” It was Shay’s suggestion.
Marie picked up her tea again. “In a minute.” Then she sighed. “I suppose we’d better go and see if he’s locked up there. He might be hungry.”
26
A hand painted mug – from Callum to Wren
Seph
There’s a lot to be said for spending time in solitary confinement, eight hours of it. I’d forgotten what it was like to be truly hungry, not starving, because, well, I wasn’t starving, but hunger pains like I forgot existed. I’d also forgotten what it was like to spend time just with me.
The loft had electricity and it was insulated, so there was no chance of freezing. In fact, it was warm enough to consider putting a bed up there and moving out of the cabin.
There was also half my childhood. Mum didn’t like throwing anything away, so it was where the old toys went to retire and half of our schoolbooks were kept, and our reports.
I’d gone up there in search of a photograph album of a holiday when we’d all been together with the Green cousins. It was Martha’s Vineyard, and we’d spent a summer there, with Dad flying over a couple of times to spend a week and a long weekend.
We’d half run wild, enjoying the freedom a safe place could be, and having other people there who got us. Max, Jackson and Claire were all older, I think Max was definitely at university by that point, and I seem to remember him having an issue when two girls turned up at the house at the same time
– he’d been sleeping with them both and had no idea they were friends. I also think it was when Jackson lost his virginity, but he’d never confirmed that.
I’d wanted the photos, but they were buried somewhere in an almighty pile of stuff and as I’d searched, I’d gotten lost in our history. The ladders to the loft blocked the corridor below, directly in front of Claire’s room, and I didn’t want Eliza running out into them, so I’d lifted them up and the hatch had closed.
It had been more than twenty years since I’d last been up there, looking for the racing track that had been Callum’s, and I forgot that when you closed it from the inside the catch caught and you were stuck. It was a fault my parents had never corrected, probably because they’d never needed to.
The hunger, warmth, trip down memory lane, and slight feeling of abandonment led to me taking an afternoon nap, one that was rudely interrupted by Jackson climbing into the loft and swearing at the amount of stuff that was there.
“Do you think you can quieten down? You’ve just interrupted a fucking awesome dream.”
Jackson paused and frowned at me. “What the hell are you sleeping on?”
I laughed, kind of, I was still too drowsy to be too coherent. “I think it’s Callum’s old beanbag and it’s really comfy. I might take it home with me.”
Jackson opened his mouth and then closed it again, shaking his head.
“We’ve been looking for you all day. For fuck’s sake, Seph, everyone’s been panicking. Payton’s been worried sick.”
I sat up. Making my pregnant sister worry was not on my agenda. “Is she okay?”
“I think she’ll be happier when she’s seen you.”
“Where did you think I was?”
Jackson stuffed his hands in his pockets which was a sign he was trying not to kill me.