‘Bloody Roger?’ she looked at me horrified.
‘You told me the sex was off the charts,’ I reminded her.
‘Yeah, well he’s not called Rampant Rog for nothing,’ she nodded, her eyes losing focus as that familiar dreamlike look appeared in her eyes. ‘But he’s not settling down material. He’s a man whore.’
‘Well he probably thinks you’re a woman whore. No, that came out wrong, not a whore who loves women, but one who loves men.’ I frowned as I listened to myself. ‘Wouldn’t that make you a man whore too? How can both sexes be called man whores? Or are you just a whore?’
‘Charming,’ she retorted, narrowing her eyes at me. ‘I confess my secret desire to be in a relationship, which I’ve never vocalised to anyone by the way, and you call me a whore.’
‘You called me bucket fanny last night,’ I reminded her, making her laugh. ‘Mandy, I’d never think of you as a whore. You’re young, upfront about what you’re offering and having fun. I’ve always been a bit envious of you to be honest.’
‘Really?’ she grinned. ‘Well I have of you too. I was so upset last night to find out that all wasn’t well in paradise. I mean if you and Brady can’t make it work, what hope is there for a slut like me?’
‘Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about,’ I warned, grabbing her into a bear hug. ‘Who’s to say which of us is doing it right. Just be happy, Mandy. That’s all I want for you and if what you’re doing now does that for you, then who is anyone to judge?’
‘I just want you to be happy too,’ she confirmed, squeezing me back. ‘I love you, big sis.’
‘I love you too, baby sister,’ I whispered, kissing her temple.
‘Lisa, if we don’t make a move now we’ll be behind schedule,’ came Anita’s scolding voice, wafting along the corridor, breaking our tender moment.
‘Jesus Christ,’ muttered Mandy as we released our hold on each other. ‘Remind me to never book her if I ever get married. I’m amazed she hasn’t allocated time for you to have a shit or hired an arse wiper for you as well.’
‘Don’t be so hard on her, she’s super organised and efficient. Trust me, you’ll have so much to worry about on your wedding day that you’ll be grateful for an Anita to take charge. Come on, we’d better go.’
‘Talking of shit, did I tell you Charlene wouldn’t be coming?’ Mandy asked as she fluffed out my dress behind me.
‘“Talking of shit” and you think of poor Charlene?! No you didn’t. My God has she finally had the baby?’
‘Yes, text me in the early hours. I was distracted with all of your drama. A boy, seven pounds and a few ounces with bright blue eyes. I texted her back to say I’d just given birth to a four pound brown baby with sweetcorn eyes in the toilet. She didn’t find it very funny. I think she squirted out her sense of humour along with the kid. I mean babies shit right? She’ll have to get used to toilet talk pretty damn soon.’
‘Mandy,’ I laughed, shaking my head. ‘She was probably exhausted and emotional, then you compared having a poo, to her giving birth? So not the right time. And if you’re passing whole sweetcorn, you need to spend less time sucking things and more time chewing.’
‘Could say the same to you, two cocks, arse gaping, bucket fanny, orgasming Roberts.’
‘Sssshhhh,’ I giggled as we stepped into the lounge to find Anita waiting, clipboard clutched to her chest as she nodded her approval to see me in all my wedding finery. She pulled out a handkerchief from her suit jacket pocket, surprising me. She didn’t seem the emotional type. Dad shoved his glass onto the coffee table and leapt up, doing a goldfish impression as his mouth opened and closed, no sounds coming from it as some tears rolled down his face. Without even having looked at him, Anita waved the handkerchief in his direction, which made me chuckle. She really was a wedding expert, anticipating everything.
‘Dad, don’t, you’ll make me start,’ I warned. He nodded and blew his nose, Mandy shook her head and rolled her eyes.
‘Give over you two. Let’s get this show on the road and the boring bit out of the way. You know everyone only comes to weddings for the free posh nosh, open bar and the chance to score some hot, casual, wedding sex.’
I held onto Dad’s arm as we slowly walked along the polished tiled walkway through the rose garden. It was a delightfully bright, sunny and hot summer day. The heat stimulated the rose petals, filling the air with a sweet aroma. Everything was perfect. I barely noticed any of the guests who stood watching as we walked through the two sections of chairs, covered in white linen with lime organza bows to match the bridesmaids’ sashes. All I could focus on was Brady, dressed in top hat and tails with a purple cravat, to match the main colour of my bridesmaids’ dresses. My heart skipped a few beats as I tried to contain the ridiculous smile on my face as I approached him. He’d never looked so handsome. Or happy.
The ceremony passed in a blur, both of us stumbling over our vows, tears on our cheeks, full of more emotion than anyone was meant to handle in a lifetime, let alone a few minutes. When the time came for our kiss, he took me by surprise again by ravishing my mouth with greedy and needy kisses, not breaking our lip lock until we both needed to come up for air. I blushed as the guests all started whooping and clapping, Roger making some rude comment about Brady needing to keep it in his pants until later. I looked over at Mum and Dad as we walked back down the aisle, both of them crying their eyes out, fighting over the handkerchief Anita had provided. It nearly started me crying again, but I fought them back. I couldn’t spend my wedding day with tear streaked cheeks.
‘Ok, Mrs. Collins?’ Brady asked, with a proud grin.
‘Perfect, Mr. Collins. And even if I wasn’t, I have a husband who’ll soon make me smile again, he knows just the right thing to say or do to cheer me up.’
‘I know exactly how I’d like to cheer you up,’ he winked, with a lascivious smile, bringing some colour to my cheeks at the thought of it. ‘But we have a roomful of guests to go and greet and spend time with.’
‘We do,’ I sighed, full of frustration. Truth be told, happy as I was to have so many friends and family here to celebrate with us, all I could think about was ripping his clothes off and having another orgasm. My need for him since this morning’s eye opener was super-charged. We made our way to the gorgeously decorated orangery, where we’d be having our seven course wedding meal. The quartet of musicians were already playing soft background music and the smell of the sweet grapes hanging from the vines filled the room. Brady surprised me by scooting me through a small opening in the solid stone wall to an adjoining private bar. ‘What are you doing? What about the line up to greet the guests?’
‘It can wait a few minutes. I have news that I’m desperate to share. You know that surprise Mum had for me earlier?’
‘You said she had one, I don’t know what it was.’
‘You’re not going to believe this. My dad’s here.’
‘What?’ I looked up at him confused. His mum was a widow. Surely she hadn’t remarried since we had Sunday lunch with her last week? Or worse, had she had his body exhumed then cremated to bring the ashes to our wedding, so he didn’t miss out on his son’s big day? Brady grinned at me, kissing me gently as my mind worked overtime.
‘Wait here a minute, all will become clear,’ he confirmed. I watched him head back to the orangery and shook my head, wondering what on earth was going on. Surely Mrs. Collins wouldn’t have dug him up? If she had where would we put him on the top table? I didn’t fancy eating my meal with the ashes of Brady’s dead father sitting in an urn in front of me.
‘Congratulations, Mrs. Collins,’ came a voice from behind me. I turned to see the bartender smiling at me. ‘Can I pour you a glass of your favourite champagne, or maybe your favourite cocktail, a B52?’
‘Champagne would be wonderful, thank you so much,’ I smiled, stunned at the personalised service this hotel offered. How did they know my favourite drinks? He nodded and impressed me even more by taking a sword and slicing the top of
the bottle off, pouring some bubbly into a glass with a flourish and bowing as he passed it over to me. I took a sip and closed my eyes as I savoured the taste. God, if ever I could wish for a Groundhog Day time loop, I was sure this was it. I’d happily live this day over and over. I took another mouthful, swirling it around as the bubbles exploded on my palate.
‘Lisa, I’d like to introduce you to someone,’ came Brady’s voice behind me. I spun around to be confronted by a smiling Brady, with his hand on another man’s shoulder. As soon as I looked up at his companion’s face I spluttered and champagne shot out of my mouth and nose, spraying all over the rich red, plush carpet and I started to choke. What the hell was Simon doing at my wedding? Standing with Brady like they were old friends?
‘Hi again, Leanna,’ Simon stated, a worried look all over his face, while I tried to compose myself.
‘Simon?’ I uttered in disbelief.
‘No, Dad, it’s Lisa,’ Brady corrected. ‘I didn’t realise that you’d already met.’ I felt my legs go weak and reached out to clutch the gold railing on the edge of the bar. Dad?! Did he just call Simon “Dad?” I was so shocked to see him standing there with Brady that I must be imagining things in my panic. I tried to take deep breaths, aware that heat was building up in my cheeks.
‘Lisa, of course. I’m so sorry, slip of the tongue,’ nodded Simon. Slip of the tongue? Jesus, I’d had his tongue up my … everywhere. I shook my head, unable to process all the thoughts going through my mind right now. How was he so calm, while I was falling to pieces?
‘Pumpkin, are you ok?’ Brady asked, his face full of concern as he came to put his arm around my shoulders.
‘Shocked,’ I nodded, blushing as I caught Simon’s gaze and he gave me a quick shake of the head, signalling for me to not say anymore. I wasn’t sure I could at the moment, it was hard to form thoughts let alone words.
‘I know. Mum was so young when they dated, she felt bad that I’d never met him, given they split up before he even knew she was pregnant with me. You know I chose not to find him, I didn’t want to upset my dad, well the dad that raised me. Mum decided as he’s no longer with us where was the harm? She paid a private detective to track Simon down especially so he could come and share this special day with me and we could start building a relationship. I can’t tell you what a shock it was to meet him.’
‘I’m right there with you,’ I squeaked. O my God. I’d fucked Brady’s Dad! Three times! The man responsible for bringing us closer together sexually was my father-in-law and he’d not only fucked me, he’d sprayed his come all over my breasts before licking it off, then he’d tongued and fucked my arse. I’d lost my backside virginity to my father-in-law the night before my wedding and swallowed his come. It was too much. My stomach roiled violently. I was going to be sick. ‘Will you please excuse me, I’m suddenly feeling rather unwell,’ I whispered, shoving my glass on the bar and covering my mouth with one hand, as I scooped up the front of my long dress with the other and ran for the toilets. I shouldered the door open like an American Football player and raced for the sink, barely making it before I lost control and the contents of my stomach filled the designer, carved stone basin, narrowly missing my perfect, couture dress. I started sobbing. This was so fucked up. I closed my eyes as I clung to the basin and shook my head, trying to stop my tears.
‘Pumpkin, are you ok?’ came Brady’s concerned voice from outside the door.
‘I need … a while,’ I managed to call between sobs, dreading him coming in to check on me. I had no idea what to do. What was the etiquette at a wedding when I was likely to be sandwiched between the two men I’d slept with today at the top table? At this point I think I’d have preferred Mrs. Collins to have dug up her husband. I’d happily sit with his ashes on my lap throughout the meal than be in this bloody predicament. I tried to breathe calmly, I needed to get a grip and decide how I was going to handle this. Simon seemed fairly composed, then again he’d obviously seen me as I walked up the aisle, he’d had the whole ceremony to get over the shock and pull himself together. Except for calling me bloody Leanna. I grabbed a handful of the tissues thoughtfully placed at the side of the sink and blew my nose. I then used a rolled up facecloth, which I soaked and wrung out, to dab my mouth, removing the splatters of vomit. I tossed that in the cleaning basket and grabbed another, trying to save what little makeup I had left and scrub off the obvious tear tracks. I jumped and let out a startled yelp as the cloakroom door swung open.
‘My God, what’s going on? Brady’s in a state out there wondering what’s happened. Is it food poisoning?’ Mandy demanded as she strode in. I shook my head and the tears I’d valiantly fought to stem, started flowing again. ‘Lisa, what’s wrong?’ she uttered, rushing forward to rub my back and turn on the tap to clear the sink. ‘Are you pregnant already?’ she asked, seemingly unconvinced of my earlier response.
‘No,’ I snuffled.
‘Then what has you looking like someone died?’
‘I just met … Brady’s dad,’ I stuttered.
‘Shit, I was spot on. No wonder you look like you’ve seen a ghost. I thought he was dead. That’s quite the wedding present, reincarnation of a loved one.’
‘Stepdad,’ I reminded her, it had never been a secret that he didn’t know his biological father. ‘I’ve just met his … real dad.’
‘O,’ she murmured, looking a little relieved. ‘Surprising, but that doesn’t explain why you’re so upset?’
‘It’s not the first time we’ve met,’ I replied, my voice wavering as that sick feeling returned with a vengeance.
‘I’m so confused. You met his real dad before, but you’re upset he’s here today?’ she frowned.
‘I met him … I met … his name’s Simon,’ I whispered, giving her a poignant look.
‘Simon? Wow, talk about coincidences, wasn’t the guy you fucked last night called Simon?’ She studied me with a confused look on her face. I closed my eyes and pinched the top of my nose, I could barely think of the truth, let alone confess it. This was a nightmare. ‘O. My. God. You’re not telling me the Simon you fucked multiple times last night is Brady’s father? The guy who tongued your arse and gave you a pearl necklace?’ she gasped.
‘Yes,’ I nodded, feeling utterly mortified. I whipped my head around as I heard a shocked intake of air from behind us.
‘Brady,’ I choked. He stood in the doorframe, one palm holding the door open with a strange unreadable look on his face. Please God, don’t let him have heard, I prayed.
‘The man you slept with last night was … my father?’ he stated quietly, his eyes darkening as the hand at his side balled into a tight fist. My heart was beating so fast and loud I feared for the safety of my ribs, let alone my relationship, or marriage as it was now. Brady’s expression was mixed. Fury along with complete and utter devastation and … revulsion. I couldn’t exactly blame him, that’s how I was feeling. Totally revolted with myself. Unwitting accident it may have been, but … Jesus. How were we supposed to deal with this, to move past this? At every family function I’d have memories of how amazing and dirty his dad was in bed.
‘Brady, I didn’t know,’ I uttered, my seemingly never ending supply of tears starting to flow again. He gulped and looked down at his gleaming polished Oxfords. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,’ I repeated, as if that would wipe the images he must be getting right now from his mind. He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, then snapped it tightly shut, his lips turning white from the obvious effort he was making not to let rip. I screwed up my face. The muscles in his neck were corded and I could hear his teeth grating together. The look on his face was murderous. ‘Brady, say something,’ I begged.
‘I have … no words. I can’t …’ he broke off and shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. ‘I can’t breathe. I need to go. I need to get out of here. I can’t even look at you right now I feel so sick.’ He made a move to turn and leave and a sob caught in my throat.
�
��Brady, please! Don’t leave me. We need to talk about this.’ I could hear the desperation in my voice as I stepped towards him.
‘Don’t,’ he barked, holding his palm up in my face. ‘We agreed, we agreed no fucking details. I never wanted to know any of it and now … now it’s right here, in my face. Eating me up from the inside and that pain’s never going to go away, Lisa. You had sex with my fucking father! Five minutes ago I had a wife and a chance at a relationship with him. Now I don’t know if I can ever even think of either of you again without wanting to throw up, or punch something, let alone look at you both. I need … I need to be alone. Please don’t try and contact me.’
I covered my mouth and nose with my hands, his tone was so cold and harsh. Like I’d deliberately set out to hurt him like this. I was just as devastated as he was and he was going to walk out on me? Leave me standing here with a tear streaked face in my wedding dress, with over one hundred guests who were all going to be looking at me for answers. Was I supposed to stand there and tell them why my husband had just stormed out and left me? As if I wasn’t upset and humiliated enough right now.
‘Brady, you can’t do this to her, it’s not her fault,’ Mandy urged forcefully behind me. I’d forgotten she was here with me and looked around at her, willing myself to give her a smile of thanks. She grasped my hand, lacing her fingers tightly through mine.
‘It’s not mine either,’ he roared, his fist connecting with the wall. I hissed in a shocked breath, wondering if the crack I’d heard was the plaster breaking up or his knuckles. I’d never heard him raise his voice.
‘Ok, I think we all just need to calm down here, it’s no one’s fault. We need to talk about this sensibly before anyone does anything they regret,’ Mandy warned. ‘Shit, sorry poor choice of phrase as that’s what got us into this fucked up situation to begin with, but you know what I mean. You both cheated on each other, there’s equal blame to apportion here.’
‘I didn’t sleep with a fucking relative of hers,’ he yelled. ‘Don’t tell me we’re even. This is so far from even I can’t even … FUCK!’ He punched the wall again, three fast hard hitting jabs and I sobbed again to see blood on his knuckles and the cream painted wall.
The Domville 2 (The Domville #2) Page 9