“I heard you guys pull up.” Richard greeted us with a drinks: Scotch for Darcy and a rum and coke for me.
We chatted about the wedding, about how Jane and Charles planned to spend their honeymoon, and how we planned to spend our next week off of work.
Richard took Darcy’s glass to refill it, then told me he had used up the last of the rum, and did I want to try something else?
“Scotch, brandy, vodka? Maybe wine? Or some beer?” He handed Darcy his refreshed glass of Scotch.
“I’ll try a sip,” I said impulsively, reaching a hand out for Darcy’s glass. His eyes widened, but he handed it over. Without breaking eye contact, I sipped the drink, and then made a sound of appreciation before handing it back.
“How is it?” he wanted to know, his voice low and gravely. I shivered and saw him notice.
“Good,” I replied, glanced swiftly at Richard refilling his own glass before I leaned in, my lips against Darcy’s ear, to whisper, “It reminds me of how you tasted that night at the hotel.”
I saw him swallow as I leaned back in time to catch his dark, simmering expression. I grinned at him before I turned to lean my head back against his shoulder.
An hour or so later, I had just playfully told Darcy “But that’s why I love you,” and immediately caught Richard’s bewildered eye.
“How did you do it, Lizzy?” Richard asked me suddenly, his voice no longer either jovial or self-deprecating, as it had been all night.
“How did I do what?” I asked him gently, my head tilted slightly to show my confusion.
I could tell by his sudden tone and the agitated way he had questioned me that he was about to demand answers from me that he couldn’t get from Charlotte. Darcy’s and my relationship was very similar to his and Charlotte’s, but we were such different people that I didn’t think it was fair to compare them to us. Still, I was his equivalent in his cousin’s love affair and I knew that meant, at some point, he would need to compare notes. Even so, I could not follow what exactly he was asking and my brows furrowed.
“How did you get past all this commitment shit to be okay with… all this girlfriend shit?” He clarified, his voice sounding both lost and confused.
I felt truly sorry for him then, because I knew what he was going through on such a personal level. I sat forward, resting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands in front of me. The alcohol helped, but I was really not comfortable having this discussion with Darcy right next to me. I glanced at him as I cleared my throat to stall for time, and the wary, vulnerable look I saw in his eyes spurred me on. I took his hand, gave it a small squeeze, and then turned back to his cousin.
“I love Will,” I said simply. “I kept pushing aside any signs that we were anything more than casual for way longer than I should have, and when Charlotte gave me things from her perspective-”
“What was her perspective?” Richard interrupted me harshly.
“Richard,” I sighed, shaking my head. “That’s not the point. You will meet someone who you will fall in love with, and when you do, the risk of vulnerability you feel will be nothing compared to the risk of hurting them, or pushing them away. Besides that, you just won’t want to be with anyone else.”
He looked so deep in concentration at my words that I chanced a look at Darcy. His eyes were soft and loving, and almost awestruck. I wish I had the courage to tell him these things more often, but I still hated opening up about my feelings and letting him know how much I needed him.
But right now, all my fears and hesitation disappeared because he wore the content smile that never failed to cause my heart to squeeze with emotion. I leaned over and tilted my head up. Obligingly, he met my lips softly, tenderly. Suddenly, I wanted to say more, to see more of that relaxed affection that often came with confessions of how much I loved him, how different he was from any other man I knew.
“It’s different when you’re in love,” I told Richard as I locked eyes with Darcy. “You’ll know when it’s the right person.”
I finally turned back to Richard to see he looked even more miserable than when we started this discussion. He had probably came to the same conclusion I had a few months ago, but I felt the need to say it anyway.
“And I don’t think that person is Charlotte.”
He let out a long, slow breath. “I love hanging out with Char, I love spending time with her, but… I just can’t see myself tying myself down to anyone.”
“Then,” I said gently. “You need to stop messing with her.”
“Yeah.” He stood up abruptly. “I know. Night, guys.”
I sat back against Darcy’s shoulder again, frowning.
“Was I too harsh?”
“No,” he sighed, patting my hip with the arm that was around me. “He needed to hear that. It’s one thing being casual when neither one of you want anything more, but as soon as he found out how much more committed she was, he needed to pull away for her sake, if he truly didn’t want a relationship with her.”
We were both lost in our own thoughts for a few minutes before Darcy broke the silence.
“So,” his voice rumbled pleasantly behind me. “You like the taste of Scotch now?”
I grinned, though I doubted he could see it from this angle. “Sometimes,”
“Sometimes?” the arm that had been resting lightly on my waist now moved with a purpose.
“I don’t think it will ever be my drink of choice.” I rolled my eyes. “But…” I tilted my head so I could see his face again. “It has a certain appeal.”
“Like the memories it invokes?” he asked with black eyes.
“Yes.” I shivered at the images that were now running through my mind’s eyes. “Like that.”
He stood suddenly, pulling me up with him and even taking it a step further by lifting me up and over his shoulder.
“Darcy!” I yelped, grabbing two fistfuls of the back of his shirt.
“I have other, better ways of remembering that night,” he told me, making his way to the grand staircase.
He carried me all the way up the stairs and to the bedroom despite my protests. He finally deposited me at the edge of his bed, taking special care to set me on the floor rather than the mattress.
“So,” he smiled and my stomach clenched. This was his roguish smile, the one that meant he was feeling playful. “Would you like to ask me something now, sweetheart, or shall you need some prompting?”
This might have become my favorite game with him.
“I don’t need prompting,” I replied sweetly, caressing his chest over his heart. The rogue was gone for a moment as Darcy pressed my hand more firmly against his chest with a searing look. I paused to enjoy the heat between us for a moment before my teasing smile took over. “I will just come right out and ask you… can I borrow one of your shirts to sleep in? I don’t feel like unpacking so late.”
“My darling Elizabeth,” he grinned; Darcy the rogue was back with a whole new endearment. “You won’t be needing a shirt tonight.”
“Is that so?” I questioned his audacity with as prim a voice as I could muster, doing my best to stifle my grin. “Do you expect me to sleep in the clothes I’ve been wearing all day? It will be a bit uncomfortable.”
“No, no.” He finally pulled back and looked down at my ensemble.
After the wedding I had changed out of my maid of honor dress and into a pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt. Still, I felt like I was wearing next to nothing from the way he was staring.
“You won’t be sleeping in these clothes either,” he assured me.
He grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up and off, tossing it aside without turning away from me.
“Lizzy…” His eyes widened and then closed as if he were in pain.
I was wearing the white corset from so long ago and, though he didn’t know it yet, the matching stockings were hidden under my jeans. I had since bought more lingerie, but this remained his favorite. His eyes were closed only for a second before open
ing dark and full of desire.
He suddenly kneeled, slowly unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them down, his breathing becoming heavier as he slowly uncovered the white stockings. He helped me step out of the jeans, and then leaned forward and kissed me low on my belly.
It was the first contact he made since removing my clothes and I gasped at the sudden shockwave it caused, grasping a handful of his hair to steady me. His eyes flicked up and rogue Darcy grinned at me. I bit my lip and tugged him up by his hair. I was already needy and he had barely touched me, I was not looking forward to more torture but neither was I willing to admit defeat so easily.
He reached for me as he was once more on his feet, but I pushed his arms away. Then, maintaining eye contact, I tugged his own shirt off. I took a moment, as he had, to gaze at the bare skin now in front of me. I reached out to lightly run a finger low on his own belly, timing my gaze right so I locked eyes with him before running my tongue over my lips.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling me to him for a searing kiss. I had never heard proper, polite Darcy curse before and I felt both excited and powerful for pulling it out of him.
“Do you remember,” he suddenly pulled back to whisper, “that first night?”
“Yes,” I breathed. I grabbed his face and kissed him hard. “Yes, I remember,”
“I prayed you wouldn’t stop after unbuttoning those first few buttons of my shirt.” He peppered kisses on me while keeping a firm grip on my waist. “When I felt you run your hand through my hair, I couldn’t do anything else but kiss you.”
“Will,” I whimpered. My skin was on fire as he told how affected he had been by me.
“I was waiting for that punch to my eye, or lip, or wherever you felt deserved it most,” he confessed.
I couldn’t help the gasp of surprise that slipped out as he lifted me in his arms. Instinctively, I locked my legs around his hips. He pivoted and sat at the edge of the bed and I was now in his lap. His kissed me through the corset and I groaned, feeling his tongue run over my nipple but not at all happy about the lack of contact. In the next instant, he was unfastening it in the back.
“No one has ever made me feel like you do, Will,” I told him with frequent kisses as he tried to finish his task. “That first night, the things you did to me…”
“What, Lizzy?” his voice was strained and he tugged the rest of the clasps apart so the corset broke open. “What did you feel the first time?”
“You brought me alive,” I told him, grabbing his shoulders as I shifted in his lap, reveling in the loud moan I pulled from him right before he latched onto my breast.
Darcy turned to plant me on the bed and I sat up only far enough to make sure he was coming with me.
“I’ll beg, Will,” I whimpered as he began to slow down, to linger longer, and kiss me slower. “It’s been too long since I felt you.”
“Lizzy,” he groaned, tugging off my white panties before being rid of his own pants and boxers. “Don’t beg me, I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything.”
“You,” I whispered, kissing him over his heart. “I want you.”
“I’m already yours,” he said, sinking into me.
I cried out. My body was already oversensitive and needy; whether it was the words between us, that fire that was always present, or a combination of both, I couldn’t say and didn’t really put too much effort into figuring it out.
“Are you mine, Lizzy?” he demanded suddenly.
“Yes,” I told him readily and was rewarded by his strong hips pushing swiftly into me. I cried out his name.
“All of you?” was his next demand.
“Yes, yes,” I dug my nails into his back and tilted my hips towards him. He repeated his actions.
“Forever?” he rested his forehead against mine and our labored breaths mingled together. His voice was no longer demanding, simply questioning. The vulnerability was clear in his voice.
“Forever,” I agreed him, kissing him. “Yes.”
“God, Lizzy,” he groaned, and those were the last coherent words from either of us for a while.
I think I drifted off for a while after that, but eventually I came back to myself. Darcy was still mostly on top of me; his heavy, relaxed weight on me was one of my favorite feelings. My hand was resting on his back, and I began to softly caress him up and down until my hair traveled up and into his hair, which I ran my fingers through. His head was in the crook of my neck and I could only hope he wasn’t up for moving for a while.
“I love you so much, Elizabeth,” he said suddenly. I frowned; it almost sounded like his brooding tone.
“I love you too, Will,” I murmured back, then sighed contentedly.
“My Will,” I said quietly a moment later.
When he didn’t say anything, I forced myself to pull him back slightly so I could look at his face.
“What is it?” I asked him, a touch of worry seeping through my languid, satiated mind.
“Charlotte and Richard… that could have been us,” he murmured with a pained look.
“No,” I replied firmly. “The circumstances may have been similar, but we are different. I have a lot of the same issues Richard has, but I love you. I want to be with you, I want to share everything with you. You make me safe.”
He pulled me close once more, burying his head back in my neck where I couldn’t read his eyes. He gave my skin a light kiss and a shiver ran up my spine.
“You make me feel safe, too,” he told me. I moved my arms so they were clutching him to me. I suspect his melancholy mood was caused by Richard’s tale of woe, but I hoped he knew how much I meant my words.
∞∞∞
It had been a long time since I woke up so hungover. Besides the sick feeling, I was disoriented for a moment from waking up in a room that was not my own, nor the new room I was now sharing with Darcy at his condo. For a second I had the thought of ‘oh shit, what happened?’ but after I half turned in the bed to get a better grasp on my bearings and recognized the back of Darcy’s head, I relaxed. Whatever happened last night couldn’t have been that bad if he was here with me.
I groaned at the open window with the sunlight pouring in and tried to ignore the way my stomach spun in protest at the movement of turning fully into Darcy; I rested my head on the back of his shoulder and put an arm around his waist so I was spooning him.
Right. Now I remembered. We had driven up to Pemberley for a week’s vacation after Jane and Charlie’s wedding. Richard had met us as soon as we stepped inside that night. We drank heavily to give him a good send off and, though he ended the night quite abruptly, he also promised to leave early in the morning and not disturb us for the rest of the week.
Darcy stirred, taking the hand that was wrapped around him and squeezing it.
“Richard,” Darcy said the word like a curse and I groaned again in agreement. Richard did this to us; he had encouraged us to drink… All. Night. Long.
“I don’t even remember going to bed last night, do you?” I asked.
“Barely,” he replied. “I remember he eventually went to bed, we went to our room…”
My body flushed as I remembered with great detail what we had gotten up to last night together in the privacy of his – our – room.
“After that, we stayed up for a little longer, and then….”
He trailed off and my mind began filling in the blanks with bursts of memory; my brain did not want to work this early after I poisoned it so much last night, but it wasn’t like we had actually gotten black-out drunk or anything, so it was only a matter of remembering the order of what happened and when.
Soon, however, I focused on one particular event and suddenly nothing else seemed as important as the conversation that had taken place in the wee hours.
“Um….” I said slowly. “Will?”
“Yeah?” he asked, turning onto his back finally. His voice sounded a little winded, and I had a feeling he was catching up about the same time I did.
“Did we get engaged last night?” My voice wavered despite my effort towards nonchalance.
He seemed perplexed by my question so I gave him a minute to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“Yep,” he finally answered.
“I see,” I replied after I could hear something other than my heartbeat slamming in my ear. “Kind of cliché, don’t you think? A drunken late-night proposal between the best man and maid of honor?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it was your idea, so how could I say no?”
“You wish!” I scoffed in surprise, pushing his arm in protest.
After he said it though, I had an uncomfortable moment remembering how after we’d made love, we sat in his enormous tub and talked about how glad we were that the wedding was over, and which parts of it we particularly
∞∞∞
“When we get married,” I told him, my back against his chest as I leisurely ran a hand along his leg, “I don’t want anyone else there. I don’t want a dress that costs thousands of dollars that I will only wear once, or to tell a room full of people I don’t care about that I love you, and would never do anything to hurt you.”
“When we get married,” I vividly remembered him sitting up and turning me to see the happiness on his face; the act of repeating my words made me realize what I had said. “It will only be you and me. No family, no dumb dresses.”
“Georgie has to be there,” I said firmly, completely contradicting my earlier statement and ignoring my panic at the subject of our discussion. “Jane knows me, she would roll her eyes and be exasperated, but Georgie has to be there. And Richard, too, I suppose.”
“Alright,” Will sighed. “When we get married, we’ll have a small, miniscule ceremony for the sake of the family we actually want to be there. But,” he gave me that charming, heart-melting smile of his, “Before that, I will take you somewhere private, and make you my wife.” A thrill went down my spine and I felt myself grinning wildly. “Only you and I will know we were already married and it won’t ever matter how the second wedding goes, or when it takes place.”
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