More Than This

by Alexa Milne

  “You two look gorgeous,” Theresa said, bending to their level. “Like two princesses.”

  “Am I okay to come in?”

  I glanced at the door. Cass stood there in her outfit. I knew she’d be wearing the lingerie underneath I’d bought for her.

  “You look wonderful,” I said.

  “You do too.” I needed to stop staring. “You’ve met my mum, and this is Anna, Marty’s mum, and Angela, Marty’s sister-in-law, and finally these two scamps are Carly and Maisie. It’s okay, you won’t be expected to remember all the names,” I assured her. She looked shell-shocked.

  “I’ll get to the ceremony and see you after,” she said.

  I followed her outside and kissed her. “You do look stunning.”

  “You too. I hope the best man knows he has no chance with the chief bridesmaid.”

  “Don’t worry, he does, and I don’t think he’d be interested in me anyway—he’s gay too. I’ll see you for the first dance.”

  The wedding was beautiful, with so many tears of happiness. The food was scrumptious and even the speeches were funny. By the time the dancing started, several people had already consumed too much alcohol. The groom swept his bride onto the dance floor first.

  “Mum,” I explained to Cass as the words and music of All of my Life filled the space. “She loves this song.” I held out my hand. “Dance with me?”

  Cass hesitated and glanced around. “I’ve never danced with another woman on an occasion like this.”

  “Then I’m honored your first time will be with me.” And I was. Being here, at my sister’s wedding, with my mother and others looking on, sent a warm glow through my body. I took her hand and pulled her into my arms. We moved to the music as others joined the happy couple on the floor, oblivious to their presence. I only cared about being there with her, knowing how right it felt to have her in my arms, knowing now I couldn’t bear the thought of her being with anyone else other than me, that I loved her. Maybe I’d always loved her.

  For the rest of the evening, we danced with each other, with others, to slow and to fast and even to the ridiculous. The sight of all those people doing Y.M.C.A. reduced us to giggling fools. By eleven, the bride and groom had slipped away to their room in the tower, away from the crowds. People started to drift away to their cars and taxis, until only the family members staying at the castle remained.

  Cass leaned toward me. “Let’s go upstairs before we’re too tired for anything else. You haven’t seen what’s underneath this dress.”

  I licked my lips. “You haven’t seen me either. I treated myself too.”

  She groaned and took my hand. I waved at the others as we passed them. We’d both removed our shoes to take the steps to our room until we finally stood on the other side of the door, staring at the four-poster bed with its ornate headboard perfectly designed for holding on to. I knew exactly what I had in mind and hoped Cass would agree with my plans.

  “I want to see,” I said.

  “Do you indeed? And what is it you’d like to see?” She giggled. God, I could drown in those eyes. I ached with need. She grasped the hem of her dress and slowly lifted it over her thighs, revealing her panties. I put a finger into my mouth and sucked on it.

  “Who’s teasing who here?” she asked. I didn’t answer, just gestured with my other hand for her to continue. She raised the dress farther until it reached the edge of the basque-like bra, revealing the myriad colors in the central section.

  “More,” I whispered, enjoying the sensation of control I usually gave up. Somehow the dynamic had changed between us. Cass lifted the whole dress over her head, threw it over the nearest chair and stood facing me. She performed a slow twirl.

  “Well, are you pleased with your purchase?”

  I nodded. “You look stunning.” I turned. “Unzip me.” She did and I stepped out of my dress, taking care to fold it carefully before putting over the same chair. Underneath, I wore the green lingerie I’d chosen.

  “You too,” she said.

  We faced each other. Cass reached around and undid my bra, slipped the straps from each shoulder then eased down my panties, leaving me naked. I removed the decorated hairband and shook my hair over my shoulders.

  “So, these plans,” she said, licking her lips.

  “I thought you might like to take advantage of the substantial headboard,” I said. “I want you astride my face so I can feel you surrounding me.” I’d always loved this, sticking out my tongue as Cass moved over me—smell, taste and touch combined.

  “If you’re sure,” she said.

  I moved and lay on the bed. “I’m sure.” She removed her panties and undid the few top hooks of the bra, letting her breasts spill out a little. “You remember the signal if I get carried away?”

  I nodded.

  She edged forward until she sat above my face. I breathed in deeply. I longed to taste her. She lowered herself until I could take her clit between my lips.

  “Oh yes, just like that,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing the top of the headboard. I licked and sucked, drinking her in, loving the wetness on my face, wanting to go deeper and deeper, to drown in her. I slipped one hand backward and pushed a couple of fingers inside her then out again, fucking her. She moved and moaned, and I kept pace with her.

  “Close,” she cried and tensed around me, lifting herself so only the tip of my tongue reached. She contracted around my fingers, her breath coming in pants, until she called my name and sank down, letting me lick her through the waves until she could stand no more and rolled away from me. She held out her arm, still recovering from her orgasm, and I tucked myself under it with my head on her still-heaving breast. I licked my fingers.

  “Wow,” she said, turning slightly to face me. “You’re so good at that.”

  “Can’t help myself,” I said. “Guess I’ve an oral fixation.” I licked my lips and glanced at her nipple, now dark pink and engorged. I longed to touch the nub and roll my tongue over it.

  “Can I?” I asked.

  “Later. I want to suck you first and make you squirm under my touch.” She rearranged us, lifting my arm and latching on to my nipple.

  “Harder,” I said. “You know I need more.” Cass nipped me and I groaned. She slipped her hand between my thighs and found my clit.

  “Please,” I said. “Just suck and rub.” I had the feeling this wouldn’t take long. I was soaking already.

  She nipped and bit at my breast, hard enough to leave marks. I arched, wanting more, needing a slight hint of pain. My body tensed as small waves began to hit. I held my breath, waiting each time for the wave to crest, but each time it subsided only to rise again until I was desperate but then again not—wanting to hit that high but wanting the feeling to continue. Finally, every sensation gathered inside me burst out. I let out a small scream.

  “Yes, oh yes.” She continued until I could stand no more and I moved my hand over hers. I relaxed, settling back on the bed, still panting. Cass kissed me as if wanting to feel what I felt. I still tasted of her. She pulled away and gazed at me.

  “I love watching you come,” she said.

  “I love you watching me.” I yawned. It had been the perfect end to a perfect day. “I hope I wasn’t too loud.”

  She grinned. “Who cares? Anyway, these walls are thick. Thank you for inviting me today. Your family are lovely.”

  I yawned again. She stroked my face. “Time for sleep, pet.”

  I laid my head on her chest and closed my eyes, knowing this was what I wanted every night and hoping Cass felt the same.

  * * * *

  Breakfast was noisy, despite the sore heads. Goodbyes were made with promises to see one another again soon. Then it was all over and somehow, we were back outside Cass’ block of flats.

  “When will I see you again?” I asked, holding her hand.

  “Whenever you want,” she replied, her other hand on the car door.

  I needed to speak. “Look, this might be too so
on, but I don’t want to say goodbye today. We’ve lost so much time already. Move in with me. I have enough room. If life has taught me one thing, it’s to grasp onto happiness when you find it, and you make me happy.” I smirked. “You make me lots of other things too.”

  She turned toward me and held both my hands. “I’d love to move in with you.”

  I stared at her, not sure I’d heard right. “Did you just say yes?”

  She nodded. “I did. All my life I’ve never let anyone get under my skin, never taken a chance on love, but you managed to sneak in. Even after two years, I couldn’t forget you. I don’t intend to let you go. So yes, I’ll move in with you whenever you want. Now, if you want. There’s no time like the present. I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  “I love you.” The words burst out of me.

  She pulled me into a hug. “And I love you too,” she whispered. “I’m going upstairs to pack a case. Wait for me.”

  “Forever,” I said, amazed but so happy.

  She opened the door, leapt out of her seat and hurried up the steps. In the car, I hugged myself. Thousands of plans flitted through my head of where we could go and what we could do. Don’t run before you walk. But I didn’t care. Cass loved me. In a few minutes we’d be driving home. To our home. And nothing else mattered.

  Want to see more from this author? Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!

  Two for the Road

  Alexa Milne

  Excerpt

  Riley tapped his fingers on the wheel of his BMW, glanced first at his watch then up the steps to the door.

  “Where the hell is he?” Should he get out and knock on the door? Why did I agree to this? Giving lifts is never wise. Riley already knew the answer. Because his father was my best friend. Because I’m lonely. Because…

  The black-painted door flew open and a tall, gangly red-haired youth—in Riley’s eyes—rushed down the steps, attempting to push one arm through a coat sleeve while holding a piece of toast in the other. He stuffed the toast in his mouth, somehow managed the coat then turned around and ran up back up the steps to collect a bag from his mother. He flung open the passenger-side door and jumped in, placing the bag on his lap.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve no excuse. I need to take a clock into the shower. I won’t do it again, I promise. Dad’s already torn a strip off me.”

  Riley smiled. He’d never admit it to the young man at his side, but timekeeping had never been a strong point of his youth, either. He recalled his father dragging the bedding from over him, then slammed shut the memory.

  “Try not to make a habit of it.” He adopted his firm but fair tone, the one he used with clients making impossible demands. Glancing sideways revealed Dylan hadn’t changed much. Always skinny with a head of bright red hair and now matching beard, Dylan had been a smiling toddler when Riley had moved to London and a thin brooding teenager of fifteen when he’d last met him.

  “I won’t,” Dylan replied cheerfully to Riley’s admonition. “Should we get off? It’s my first day, and I need to make a good impression.”

  Riley turned on the engine and slipped the car out of brake into gear. He checked in all directions and pulled out into the traffic. A light drizzle began, typical weather on the north side of Pendle Hill. The village of his childhood, and his home for the last twelve months, nestled on the side of the hill famous for its witches. He negotiated his way out of the village and onto the motorway. The drizzle turned to rain pattering on the windscreen.

  “Thanks for agreeing to give me a lift. I hope it’s not too much of a pain, and I’ll try not to be irritating.”

  Riley didn’t reply, hoping to stop the conversation. He was used to quiet journeys accompanied only by the radio or a CD if he felt so inclined. He’d expected Dylan to pull out his mobile, stick in headphones and amuse himself. Dylan, however, didn’t take the hint.

  “You doing this is such a relief. I panicked when I got the job, but beggars can’t be choosers these days, and I’m lucky to have one at all. Dad said he’d sort something out for me, and he did, thanks to you. You and him go way back, he told me, but you left to live in London. I remember you visiting a few years back?”

  Riley had no chance to reply.

  “I’ve only been once, you know, to London. I bet you know all the good places, theaters, restaurants, museums, clubs? I didn’t plan to come back here, but I got the job in Preston, so here I am. Hopefully, I’ll be able move out of home to somewhere nearer, or with a railway station when I’ve saved enough. I went to Durham University, but I expect you know that.”

  Riley did, but only because Tony had come to his father’s funeral several months back. The meeting had been awkward. He’d been back six months already at that point, taking care of his father as he gradually faded away. Any guilt he’d felt about not reaching out to his oldest friend had disappeared when Tony hadn’t contacted him, either. He nodded, knowing Dylan would continue.

  “I loved Durham, but there weren’t any jobs there. I miss my university friends, but we’re determined to meet up. I bet you got up to all sorts at uni in London.”

  Ah, the past. Riley sighed. He’d never be able to stand this onslaught every morning, especially if it came accompanied by twenty questions. Perhaps it wouldn’t be for long. He reached over and turned on the radio, hoping Dylan might get the message without him having to be rude and ask him to shut up.

  “Oh, I love this one. You hardly ever hear Living in a Box on the radio.” Dylan proceeded to join in, singing and dancing in his seat.

  Did I ever have such energy? Riley felt every one of his forty-two years weighing him down.

  Dylan nudged him. “Come on, don’t let the side down. Join in. Didn’t you and Dad used to play this together back in the day?”

  Riley couldn’t resist smiling and humming along. How long had it been since he’d played? His guitar lay gathering dust in one of the spare rooms. Dylan had a good voice.

  “We did, but how do you know this song?” he asked. “You weren’t even born.”

  “I bet you know all the Beatles’ hits,” Dylan replied.

  “Yeah, but everyone does, don’t they? My father was a fan. He saw them play at the Cavern Club in Liverpool.” This fact had always surprised him. He couldn’t picture his staid, conservative father in such a venue.

  “And so, my dad still plays his stuff from the eighties. They say you never forget the songs you listened to in your early teens. I grew up with his stuff, and…” He leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t tell Mum, but I liked it more than Dylan. She still plays his stuff all the time too.”

  Riley chuckled. “I remember her and your father discussing what to call you.”

  “And, Mum won. Still, it could be worse. At least she wasn’t an Elvis fan. Can you imagine having to spend your life as Elvis Hargreaves? Do you still play guitar?”

  Riley smiled at the memory. Their band hadn’t been anything special but had still played at every school concert, even when he’d moved to the local grammar, due to a music teacher desperate to have acts willing to perform. “I haven’t for a while, but I expect I could strum out a tune. I was never as good as your dad. He played lead. I was the silent, hardly moving bass player.”

  “Cool. I play sax. I took music at A level. It always surprises people I did math and music, but they go together somehow—chords, intervals, progression—all math. And I’ve always been good with figures. Some people think accountancy is boring, but I’ve always loved being able to manipulate numbers and see patterns. Music is the same, isn’t it? The best songs use certain intervals between notes to hook you in and chord changes and sequences. If you study it properly, you can see how a song is constructed and pull it apart.”

  Riley pressed the accelerator to overtake the lorry on the inside lane. “You know, I’ve never thought about music in that way.” There was certainly more to Dylan than met the eye. “I just like how it sounds. Do you still play sax?”

  “For myself, but M
um worries about the neighbors complaining. I might look for a group to join. Not driving is a pain, though. Once I start getting paid, I’m gonna save up for my own car.” He ran his hand over the dashboard. “Nothing like this beauty, though. I bet it even has heated seats. Good to know my arse will be nice and toasty in the winter.”

  Riley didn’t want to think about Dylan’s arse, or any other part of him. That part of his life was well and truly over.

  “Maybe you and I should get together and play with Dad. Mum still sings, you know, and Kayleigh plays keyboard, though she didn’t get beyond grade five. She hated having to practice, and I doubt she’ll be home from university much. She can’t stand living here.”

  “But you’re all right with it?” Riley asked. Over twenty years ago, he’d had the same feelings.

  “I guess so, and this way I get my food made and washing done. I know you’re supposed to go to university, have experiences, develop a network and find someone. Well, I found lots of someones, but no one special, and even though I loved Durham, I’ve found I quite like being home too. Mum and Dad are great, and I have my old mates, Matt and Dan. With any luck, I’ll meet new people at work. Are you planning to stay in the village? Dad wasn’t sure, with all the memories. Looking after your father those last months must have been tough.”

  “It was.” The last conversation he wanted to have was about watching his father fade away as the cancer took the man who’d always been so strong. He hadn’t decided what to do about the house, but he couldn’t return to his old life. Taking the partnership at his father’s firm now tied him to the area and gave him a reason to get up every day. A face from his past flashed into Riley’s mind. He pushed it away.