by Annie Dyer
My obsession with them hadn’t declined; it had only gotten worse. Every so often, she’d send me a tit pic, usually when she knew I was on a conference call or taking clients out to lunch, sending me an image that she knew would have me growling down the phone to her as soon as I could find a private place.
She knew every button to press, every whisper that could calm me or rile me, every touch that could bring me to my knees.
Was I ready to marry her?
Hell, yes. I had been months ago. Maybe longer.
“What do you mean by being ‘set’?” I was a lawyer. There was no such thing as a straight answer.
“Are you ready to A – promise yourself to one woman forever - ”
“Kind of done that already. You ever think about going near another woman after meeting Van?” I already knew his answer to that.
“I’d rather have chopped my own balls off. So B – are you ready for your wedding? Suited, booted, stared at, hugged at least fifty times by Marie, Dad getting a tear in his eye. I suppose it’ll be Seph and Shay getting ridiculously pissed now. Callum’s got Wren to stop him making stupid mistakes, so… you good to be a groom?”
If Vic and I had thought just about what we wanted, we’d have been on a beach in the Caribbean now, just the two of us, with no fuss and no getting more nervous by the second in case it all got a bit too much with my crazy family and she changed her mind.
“No. I want to be Victoria’s husband. Not the person who stands at an alter and has everyone gawp at him.” Or her. She could turn up in her pyjamas and have bed hair, and everyone would still stare at her because she was just that beautiful.
Jackson laughed and poured himself another whisky. We were last two up, the rest having either gone to bed - Seph, Nick, Eli, Owen; been summoned – Killian; or fallen asleep at the table and been carried to the sofa in the cabin – Shay.
I hadn’t been on my own with my closest brother in what must’ve been months; work, family shit and life in general getting in the way. It was nice now, to be sat here with him, without any background noise.
“You won’t notice anyone else because you’ll only have eyes for her. Promise you. You remember mine and Van’s wedding?”
I nodded, because it really wasn’t that long ago.
“She kind of wanted the big deal, for her gran as much as anything else, and I wanted her to have whatever. She was doing me the favour by marrying me. I had a shit ton of nerves the week before, thinking about all the things that could go wrong and it was a waste of time.”
“You never said you felt that way.”
Jackson shrugged. “You’d have taken the piss out of me and given me an out, saying I didn’t need to do it.”
“I wouldn’t have talked you out of marrying Vanessa.”
“Didn’t mean that. You couldn’t have done that if you’d tried. But the whole wedding thing. When she gets the photos out, I’m really glad we had everyone there. It was one of the few times everyone’s been together. As the rest of us get married and have kids, it’ll be harder to find times like that.”
I stared at my whisky because I didn’t like it when I couldn’t argue with my brother. “I know. We kind of thought of that. Especially when some of the cousins have swarmed over here.”
“You’ll be glad you’ve done it. Can’t see Callum and Wren having a family thing when they get married. That’ll be on a beach somewhere with an elephant as a witness.” Jackson grinned. “Marie will lose her fruit if they do that.”
“I think she’ll just be glad he’s finally settled. How did being married change you and Van?” It was something I was worried about. I didn’t want me and Vic to grow stale, or too comfortable. I didn’t want to start to take her for granted and her to stop sending me tit pics.
Even if one day one of those pics was of our baby having its dinner.
“Made us more relaxed. Me especially. I felt more secure. I knew I must’ve done something right for her to walk down the aisle. We felt more of a unit. Don’t over think it, Maxwell. Nothing good comes of it when you do that.”
I gave him the finger.
“We’re trying for another baby. She’s got baby-fever with Claire being due anytime and we can’t walk past a shop selling baby stuff without her needing to go in and touch all the stuff for newborns.”
I hadn’t talked to any of my brothers – or sisters – about the difficulty we were having in getting pregnant. They knew, because Vic talked to their better partners, but we hadn’t discussed it.
“How long have you been trying for?” I was curious to know. Teddy had been conceived pretty much the first night they’d tried.
Jackson waggled his brows. “Five months. We know we’re both good for it, but it just isn’t happening easy this time. We’re not getting stressed though. That’ll only make it worse.”
I played with the glass of whisky, now empty and it wouldn’t be refilled. I’d managed to get away with only having a few drinks, not wanting a bad head or a really late night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and I hadn’t wrapped anything yet, plus we had a rugby match against a team made up of local medics from the hospital.
“We’re trying. You know we’re trying.” I looked at Jackson, feeling as if someone was ripping my skin off and exposing my insides.
“You’ve been trying as long as I’ve known you.” Jackson gave a grin that usually resulted in me rugby tackling him, but there was a table in the way.
Instead I shook my head and picked up a sausage roll that was left over. Marie had put a bit of a spread on, probably hoping we’d line our stomachs before poisoning ourselves with liquor.
“I try very hard to get on your every single nerve.” I threw another sausage roll at him.
He caught it and stuffed it in his mouth.
“Do you want another?” I knew he’d found it hard in parts to juggle work with spending all the time he wanted with Teddy. There had been one morning when he’d dragged himself in, looking like utter shit. Teddy had been up most of the night with a temperature, screaming himself sick. He’d improved, but Jacks had admitted it was killing him to be away from him when his son was poorly.
It was the first time I hadn’t given him shit when he looked like crap.
“Yes. I’m less fussed about the time scale. Van’s like a broody hen though. What about you?”
I didn’t want to talk about it. I couldn’t. Nothing was stopping us getting pregnant; both of us were healthy, we were doing all the right things, but she wasn’t expecting.
It was killing me. I knew how Victoria felt.
“We’re fine.”
Jackson raised a brow. “You sure?”
I nodded. “It’ll happen. For now, I just want to enjoy getting married.”
Jackson stood up, gave me a nod. “If you need to talk, you know where I am.”
“Does the offer still stand if I need to box with someone?”
He gave another nod. “Just avoid my face. For some reason, Vanessa likes it.”
Victoria was in bed when I got back to our room. She was reading a book, a romance by the look of the cover. She had no make-up on and looked rested. I had every intention of making her feel very relaxed after I’d put an end to any rest.
“How was your evening?”
She put the book down and smiled at me, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“Good. Killian won every game. Shay fell asleep at the table. Seph was quiet.” I was a little worried about my youngest brother. As much as I thoroughly enjoyed irritating him, he was quieter than normal, a sign he was thinking too hard about something. It was on my list of things to do tomorrow to talk to him, find out what was going on in that head of his.
A bit like Jackson had just tried to do with me.
“Seph’s been quiet for a bit.”
Victoria sat up, the sheet collecting at her waist and exposing a white cotton nightdress that was thin enough for me to see her nipples. I tried not to stare while sitting on th
e edge of the bed, pulling off my polo shirt.
“What do you think’s up with him?”
“I think he’s feeling the effects of everyone growing up. A lot’s changing. I don’t think he’s unhappy though.”
Her hand landed on my back, touching where I’d had a recent tattoo, one of an open book. It was one I’d had done for her.
Her touch ignited every nerve end in my skin. I turned around to face her, saw a slight flush to her cheeks.
“Take your nightdress off for me.”
I didn’t think I could go two more minutes without seeing her naked. She’d been my addiction since we’d met, the feisty history professor who matched every last bit of beast in me.
Victoria didn’t speak. She wriggled around and pulled the nightdress over her head, exposing her tits and smooth skin. I took my fill and stared.
“I can’t believe I get to fuck you for the rest of my life.”
She pushed the covers away and went onto her hands and knees, moving her head towards me, then lifted her lips to mine for a kiss. Her taste was minty and clean, unsullied from whisky like mine.
“I’m sorry you lost at poker.” Her words were a whisper.
My hand went to cup a breast, brushing my thumb over her nipple that was always sensitive.
“Come sit on my knee and make me feel better.”
I loosened my jeans and backed onto the bed, then guided her onto my lap, facing outwards. I kissed the top of her shoulder and trailed my lips onto her neck, feeling her shudder as I nibbled. From this position, I could play with her tits, but I was in the mood for torture, running fingers in symmetrical patterns lightly over them and around her nipples, not giving her anywhere near the amount of pressure I knew she craved. I trailed my forefingers over her hardened peaks and then pinched, hearing her quiet moan as her head fell back, her eyes closing.
I cupped them, feeling their weight, desperate to put my mouth on them now, but that would mean moving, and there were other things I wanted to do to her while we were sitting like this.
Between her legs was wet. She was bare there, waxed smooth, because she liked it. I wasn’t going to complain. Slick silk greeted my fingers. I toyed around her clit, withholding what I knew she wanted. Parting my legs meant she parted hers, and from over her shoulder I could watch as I toyed at her entrance, brushed that sensitive nub of nerves. My dick was hard, released from the confines of my jeans, and ready to be inside her, but I wanted her coming on my hand first.
I ran a fingertip down over her clit and pressed a little firmer. Her hips pushed forward, hinting for more, but instead I pressed into her entrance, just by a centimetre. When I withdrew it, she groaned, her own hands pushing into her thigh.
“Max, I need you to fuck me. Hard.”
My balls were ready to burst, and I could feel that I was slowly losing control. I fought to regain it; as tempting as it was to lift her onto my cock, that wasn’t my game plan tonight.
Again, I ran a gentle finger over her clit and then gave it a sudden pinch. She moaned louder this time, her hands on the mattress now, legs spread wider for me. I caught sight of her, of us, in the mirror. Rosy cheeked and swollen lips made her look wanton, needy.
I pushed two fingers inside her, rubbing her clit with my thumb and she exploded, her hips jerking uncontrollably and a sob as she came.
As soon as her orgasm started to subside, I lifted her off me, her back onto the bed. Losing my jeans and possibly my mind, I braced myself over her, dropping my mouth to a nipple and nipping it between my teeth, sucking hard and needy.
I repeated with the other, Vic’s hand snaking between my thighs to clutch my cock, starting to rub its length.
The point of coming quickly had been passed; my mood had become growly, needful, wanting to claim her over and over. There were no doubt demons that I was wrestling with, there always had been, but with her I could destroy them.
Her hand gripped hard, her legs moving around my hips, urging me down, telling me that she wanted me inside her, she wanted to be fucked, she wanted me to come inside her pussy, to fill her up. I pulled her hand away and sat back, unlocking her legs from around me and holding them on the shins, moving them to the sides and up, spreading her open.
When I put my mouth on her soaking centre, she grabbed my hair tight enough so that it was almost painful. I tongued her clit, tasting that salty sweetness and sucked. None of it was controlled now; I wanted her to come again, to make her wetter so she was ready for me to fuck her hard.
“I can’t! I can’t!”
I held her hips and ignored her protests, tongue fucking her then sucking on her clit until she came, threats and promises about what she was going to do to my cock.
I didn’t give her any reprieve. As soon as her orgasm peaked, I moved over her body, kneeling high, and lifted her hips so she could guide my desperate dick into her centre.
She was slick and swollen, and I knew she could take me in one movement.
I kept hold of her hips, fucking her with hard, slow movements, her pussy so tight it felt like it had clamped around my cock.
The angle and my hold meant I could hit the spot inside her, give her the chance of a third orgasm. She widened her legs, her knees angled towards her chest, her dark eyes focused solely on mine.
There were words from both of us; praise and promises, whispers of love and of all the things that were hers, were mine. Her release induced mine, the clench of her muscles around my cock draining my orgasms from me, her name a roar and I braced my arms to stop me from collapsing on top of her.
My nose rubbed against hers, an Eskimo kiss, before I took her mouth, soft and gentle, the direct opposite of what we’d just done.
“That, Maxwell Callaghan, is one of the many reasons why I’m marrying you in three days’ time.” Her words were breathless. “Many reasons. Now I need to be cuddled.”
I chuckled, easing myself off and out of her, passing tissues to help clear the inevitable.
“Such a gentleman.” She laughed softly.
“Your gentleman.” I reached for her face, cupping her jaw. “Only yours. Forever yours.”
10
Her favourite perfume – from Grant to Marie
Maxwell
“Seph! Seph! Seph!” The shout from Eli ran from his mouth as quickly as he was running down the wing, arms ready to catch and avoided the opposition like they were twelve-year-old schoolboys without a single clue.
I’d found out recently that Eli had almost played professionally, which now answered a lot of questions about why he was so good.
Seph’s pass was neat and well timed. Eli ran towards the line, leaving the attempt at defence for dust and scoring what was our fourth try of the game.
There were claps on the back, a sweaty hug. There would be one final kick at goal and the game should be pretty much done.
Owen took the ball, placing it down and looking as serious as he would if this was a cup final. He backed up to take his run, aiming his kick and putting the ball straight through the posts.
The ref blew the whistle and several blew out a sigh of relief. None of us were under thirty and all of us would feel this tomorrow and pretend we didn’t.
“Bath. Of. Ice.” Nick patted my back. “Good game that. We should do this more often.”
“Then it might hurt less.” Shay hobbled past us. “I haven’t played a game of rugby for fuck knows how long.”
“You’ll have to start training with us now you’re in London.” Owen bent down to redo his lace. “Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings, matches on a Sunday, unless you’re Nick and you just turn up when you feel like it and don’t expect to hurt the next day.”
“For me to train I’d have to get some form of life.”
I laughed. Shay wasn’t that different from me and Jackson; totally obsessed with work, and when he wasn’t, he channelled Callum in his younger days.
“Then get some form of life.” I clapped him on the back. “Get show
ered, back to the house and in the hot tub. And be glad we haven’t played this outside. Hot tubs sting like a bitch if you’re freezing.”
We’d manage to book an indoor rugby pitch, one where one of the professional teams trained, otherwise the match would’ve been called off. I had a feeling that tomorrow I’d be wishing it had been called off.
“I heard something about hot tubs and breakfast.” Eli shoulder bumped me on the way into the changing rooms. “You any idea what the girls were up to this morning?”
I shrugged. I had no idea. “Vic was still asleep when we left this morning. I’ve learned that waking her up when she doesn’t need to be up for anything is one of the seven deadly sins.”
Eli laughed. “Ava was already out of bed. I haven’t seen her much since I got here.”
I studied him for a second. “You got here at nine last night and went straight to playing poker. Send her a text – find out what she’s up to. See if she wants to join us while we all try not to feel as if we’ve been hit by a bus.”
“I feel fine.” My little brother grinned, already walking around the changing rooms stark bollock naked.
We’d learned not to say anything now. Seph was convinced he had a big dick, mainly because some girl had commented on its size when he was in college, and now he thought he was some porn star.
“If there’s any justice, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Sometimes I wondered if we weren’t harsh enough.
Seph just laughed. “It’s what happens when you’re still young. Quicker recovery time.”
“Any idea why we didn’t make him live with the wolves?” I looked at Jackson.
Jackson just slowly shook his head. “Just think, one day, some poor woman’s going to marry that and she’ll have to put up with him all the time.”
“We should probably start a trust fund for her therapy. Or in case she sues us.” I chucked my rugby kit into a separate bag. There was no mud, but sweat was another matter and it would need to go straight in the wash, else I wouldn’t hear the end of it about the smell from Vic. “You reckon Marie will still do a load of washing?”
