Frisky Business

by Clodagh Murphy

  ‘Oh yes. He’s not the Mae West, but he’s here all right.’ He craned his neck, looking out to the gardens. ‘That’s him there,’ he said, pointing to a man walking slowly across the grass with a pained expression and a gait like an arthritic John Wayne.

  ‘Ha, so it is!’ Kit said, chuckling.

  ‘Hey, that’s not nice,’ Romy said to him under her breath. ‘You shouldn’t laugh at his misfortune.’

  ‘It’s not misfortune, it’s his own bloody stupid fault. Maybe that’ll teach him a lesson.’

  ‘Poor Wedgie,’ Peter said. ‘I think he feels bad about Mick. He’s still above in the hospital, the craythur.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ Romy asked.

  ‘Unfortunately, Wedgie burned down his shelter with one of his farts. Sorry, now,’ he said, raising an apologetic hand to Romy, ‘but that’s the way ’twas. And sure, it was fierce cold out there at night and he’d a lot of drink taken. Anyway, in the heel of the hunt he suffered from exposure and they had to take him to hospital to warm him up.’

  ‘Oh, poor him!’ Romy said. Mick must be the hypothermia victim Ethan had mentioned. ‘Will he be all right?’

  ‘Arra, he’ll be grand. ’Tis an awful pity he had to miss today, but, sure, what can you do?’ he said, shaking his head philosophically.

  ‘Not much in the face of Wedgie,’ Kit murmured to Romy.

  ‘’Twasn’t entirely Wedgie’s fault. Ethan had warned us that it wouldn’t be a good idea to drink too much, but he went ahead and got locked anyway. Oh, it’s your turn,’ he said, pointing to the reception desk which was now free. ‘I’ll see ye later,’ he said as they stepped forward to take their turn to check in.

  ‘Wow, good call escaping from that stag,’ Romy said as they took their seats in front of the desk.

  When they had checked in, Kit carried their bags up to the room, dropping them just inside the door. ‘I’m just going to check out where everyone else is.’ He pulled his mobile from his pocket. ‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ he said, dialling as he went out the door.

  Romy did a little internal happy dance as she surveyed the room. She wandered around, exploring the bathroom and checking out the TV, room service menu and mini-bar, then threw herself on the big double bed, spreading her limbs out in a starfish shape and grinning to herself. She loved hotel rooms, and this one was lovely. And much as she missed Luke, she was going to make the most of having some time to herself – and some time alone with Kit. Maybe she would even get to have sex tonight in this bed. After all, as Lesley had pointed out, it would be mean to get him all worked up and then not follow through. She hugged herself, her stomach tingling with a mixture of nervousness and excitement at the thought. It had been way too long.

  She got up and moved to the deep window seat overlooking the lawn. People who she assumed were wedding guests, judging by their attire, were already starting to mill around outside. A winter wedding was always difficult to dress for, but most of them seemed to have pulled it off admirably, achieving the difficult combination of warmth and glamour. There were just a handful of girls who had refused to make any concession to the weather and sported pale, goose-pimpled limbs, visibly shivering in their thin dresses as they huddled into inadequate wraps and tried to look comfortable.

  ‘Right,’ Kit said, coming back into the room and pulling her from her people-watching, ‘I’ve got everyone’s room numbers. Ethan and Sinead are just next door, and everyone else is somewhere along this corridor. Apart from Hannah and Tank, of course. They’re in the bridal suite.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ she said, turning from the window.

  ‘Hey, why is it called the bridal suite?’ Kit asked, frowning. ‘Why not the groomal suite? Or just the wedding suite?’

  ‘The bride always gets top billing at a wedding.’

  ‘That’s not fair! It’s discrimination,’ he mumbled as he picked up Romy’s case and put it on the luggage stand. He placed his own flat on the floor and zipped it open. ‘Right, we’d better get this show on the road,’ he said, hanging his suit carrier in the wardrobe. ‘They’ve already started drinking without us. We’ll never catch up if we don’t get a move on.’

  ‘Okay.’ Romy hopped off the window seat. ‘Do you want to go first?’ she asked, waving towards the bathroom.

  ‘I don’t mind. Whichever you prefer.’

  ‘Yeah, you go first. Then I can take my time.’

  She opened her suitcase and pretended to be engrossed in unpacking while Kit stripped down to his boxers before heading into the bathroom, though she did allow herself a surreptitious peek as she hung her dress in the wardrobe. He was certainly fit, she thought, checking out his taut stomach, long muscled legs and broad chest that still bore the traces of a golden tan. Once he was in the bathroom, she took out the pinwheel and spreader bar from the depths of her case and laid them carefully on top, leaving the case open so that Kit would see them. Now all she had to do was wait.

  And wait, she thought later as she lay on the bed and watched Kit move around the room as he dressed. He had emerged from the bathroom after about half an hour in a cloud of citrusy-smelling steam and she had been waiting patiently for him to notice the sex toys ever since. He had to pass right by her case every time he went to the wardrobe or dresser, but he was lacing his shoes now and he still hadn’t noticed them. Unless he had, and wasn’t saying anything because he didn’t know what they were. Or because he did … She was just going to have to draw his attention to them deliberately.

  ‘Could you help me with these?’ he asked, coming over to her and holding out a pair of cufflinks in his strong, tanned hands.

  She sat up and fastened the cufflinks in the stiff cuffs of his snowy white shirt, breathing in the delicious male scent of his aftershave. He looked so gorgeous. She really hoped he wasn’t a fan of the kinky stuff – or gay. She thought about that night in the cupboard. Gay my arse! she snorted to herself. Darth Vader was no stranger to shagging women. But this was her chance to find out what made him tick – she had to make the most of the opportunity. She needed to get the kink out of the way so she could move on to phase two of the plan.

  Kit went to the mirror to knot his tie and she noticed that his hair was already dry. ‘Why don’t I go downstairs so you can have the room to yourself, and then you can join me whenever you’re ready?’ he said as he finished with his tie and took his jacket from the wardrobe.

  It was now or never. ‘Okay,’ she said, hopping off the bed and going over to her case. She had to act fast. She began unpacking make-up and jewellery and piling them onto the dressing table. ‘God, how on earth did that get into my case?’ she said, slinging the little pinwheel onto the pile.

  To her relief, Kit took the bait. ‘What is it anyway?’ he asked, picking it up and looking at it curiously.

  ‘Oh, it’s just … a massager,’ she said, taking it from him and rolling it along her arm to demonstrate.

  ‘Really? Looks painful.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling to herself. ‘Doesn’t it just?’ One test down, and Kit had passed with flying colours. But she wanted to make sure.

  ‘I don’t know what I was thinking when I packed,’ she mumbled, lifting the spreader bar from her case. ‘I must have been half asleep. I certainly didn’t mean to bring this!’ She held it up to Kit, laughing at her own absent-mindedness.

  ‘What the hell is it?’ he asked, taking it from her hands, screwing his face up in confusion as he pulled at the straps.

  ‘Oh, it’s just … er … an exercise thing,’ she said, making an effort to sound casual. ‘It’s for toning your abdominals.’

  ‘Well, you won’t be needing that this weekend, will you?’

  ‘No, I certainly won’t,’ she said, taking it from him and throwing it back into the case. Or ever, she thought to herself.

  ‘Well, I’ll see you down in the bar.’ He bent to the mirror to give his hair a final flick. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ he said, straightening up.


  Romy waited until she was sure he was safely down the hall before doing a little victory dance.

  ‘Yes!’ she shouted, punching the air with her fist. She was relieved she wouldn’t have to consider BDSM if she wanted to be with Kit. Now she just had to rule out the gay thing. She raced around the room excitedly, stripping off and laying out her prettiest underwear on the bed. ‘I did the right thing bringing you,’ she said, smiling down at it smugly. ‘Let phase two of the honey-trap commence!’

  Before heading for the bathroom, she grabbed her mobile and sent Lesley a text: ‘Vanilla seduction is go.’

  ‘Wow, you look amazing,’ Kit said when she found him in the bar, his eyes raking over her appreciatively.

  She had gone all out and she knew she looked good. Her purple crushed velvet dress and soft suede boots were sexy without sacrificing warmth and comfort, and her long dark hair fell in soft snaky curls around her shoulders.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘Let me get you a drink. Champagne?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Kit was standing with his father and brother, and a pretty redhead who stood beside Ethan – presumably his date. All the Masterson men were sporting snowy white shirts for once. Tuxedos really did something for men. They all looked really well, Romy thought, as she looked around the circle, her eyes lingering on Ethan, but he was … breathtaking.

  ‘I went for white today, Romy,’ Colm said, pointing to his shirt. ‘Father of the bride – had to be done.’

  ‘Sometimes you have to go with tradition,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘Where’s Laura?’

  ‘She’s up helping Hannah get ready.’

  ‘Romy, this is Sinead,’ Ethan said, introducing the girl at his side.

  ‘Hi, nice to meet you,’ Sinead said, smiling as they shook hands. She had merry eyes and dimpled cheeks in a pale freckled face, and she looked like fun and trouble.

  ‘Here you go,’ Kit said, returning and handing her a glass of champagne. His arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her into his side.

  ‘Thanks.’ She put her free arm around his back, blushing as she caught Ethan watching the movement closely. But that was ridiculous – why should she feel guilty for putting her arm around her boyfriend? She felt as if Ethan had caught her out in a lie – which technically, she supposed, he had, since Kit wasn’t really her boyfriend. Not yet. But that could be about to change.

  Twenty minutes before the ceremony was due to start, the guests were invited to take their places in the chapel, and they tottered across the lawn in varying degrees of inebriation, some still carrying champagne glasses with them. One woman got stuck in the grass and just stayed put, laughing maniacally until her partner came to haul her out. Spindly heels, soft earth and too much champagne were not a good combination.

  ‘Sinead seems nice,’ Romy commented to Kit as they walked arm in arm towards the chapel. Romy had discovered that Sinead was a journalist who had met Ethan when she was doing a feature on volunteer workers. She had kept them entertained with wildly indiscreet stories about various celebrities and politicians that had never made it into the press.

  ‘Yeah, she’s great,’ Kit said. ‘But don’t get too attached.’

  ‘Why? Do you not think Ethan’s that keen on her?’

  ‘I’m sure he likes her as well as the next girl, but he doesn’t usually stay with one person for long. Wouldn’t be fair on the next girl.’

  ‘Huh!’ She looked ahead at Ethan, who was crossing the little wooden bridge now, his arm around Sinead. He seemed far too nice to be such a man-whore.

  ‘He’s very nice to all his girlfriends,’ Kit said, as if he had read her thoughts. ‘He just likes to spread himself around. It’s fairer that way. Everyone gets a turn.’

  ‘Very nice of him, I’m sure,’ Romy said archly.

  ‘Anyway, Sinead’s well able to take care of herself.’

  Romy could believe that. She certainly didn’t seem the needy type.

  ‘She doesn’t take it seriously any more than he does. I think they’re fuck buddies more than anything – friends with benefits. It’s the way they do things nowadays, apparently.’

  Romy sighed. ‘Kids these days,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘I don’t get the whole friends with benefits thing. Do you?’

  ‘Well, it’s not for old fogeys like us,’ he said, giving her a squeeze. ‘Ethan’s young, he likes girls. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s normal at his age to put yourself about a bit.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Ethan doesn’t sweat the small stuff,’ Kit said as they crossed the bridge, which was decorated with flowers and ribbons wound around its wooden posts. ‘Maybe it’s something to do with the work he’s been doing, the places he’s been. I guess it makes you realise what’s important. All this worrying about who’s shagging who, or “where’s this relationship going” must seem like so much toss when you’ve seen people struggling just to survive.’

  Romy looked at him, surprised at this defence of his brother. Usually, he was more than happy for an opportunity to slag him off. ‘So, women are “the small stuff”?’ she said indignantly.

  ‘No, that’s not what I meant. But sex … people make too much of a big deal out of it. It doesn’t have to be that complicated. You eat, you sleep, you shag – it’s simple.’

  Romy rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a romantic!’ she said as they stepped into the chapel.

  It was working, Romy thought that evening as Kit took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

  Stage one of the vanilla seduction was going brilliantly – no doubt aided by the hearts and flowers theme of the day. After all, if you couldn’t get off with someone at a wedding, when could you?

  It had been a perfect day. The ceremony was lovely, the pews of the little chapel adorned with ribbons and flowers. Hannah was a stunning bride, and Colm beamed with pride as he walked her down the aisle. Tank was surprisingly emotional, his voice hoarse with tears as he took his vows, while Laura beamed and cried at the same time, glowing with happiness.

  After a champagne reception in a lovely old galleried hall, they sat down to dinner in the sumptuous banqueting room. Romy and Kit were seated with Ethan and Sinead, and Peter, who they had met in reception, and his mousy wife Mary. The food was delicious, the champagne and wine flowed, and the company was fun. Even Kit had to admit that Wedgie made a very funny speech – with anecdotes from the stag do providing plenty of material – but he still smirked as Wedgie finished and lowered himself gingerly back into his chair with a pained wince as he passed the mic.

  Romy felt lit from within. Kit had hardly been able to keep his hands off her all through dinner, constantly touching her leg, stroking her hair, or dropping little kisses on her cheek. Now he was pulling her into his arms and they began swaying softly to the music. She melted against him, breathing in the male smell of him as he laid his cheek against hers, and sighed contentedly. Kit had passed the gay test with flying colours, and she felt sure that this lovely day was going to end with delicious, vanilla-flavoured sex.

  As the band began playing a recent hit with a salsa beat, Kit began to dance properly, spinning her away from him and pulling her back to wrap his arms around her, twirling her around, his legs moving between hers, their limbs entangling and their hips bumping as they moved in perfect harmony. She had forgotten how nice it was to dance with someone who knew what they were doing. She felt graceful, elegant and sexy as she glided and spun. And she definitely felt turned on as Kit’s strong, hard body crashed against hers.

  The party was winding down and many of the guests were starting to drift towards their rooms. Peter and Mary had already left when Kit and Romy returned to their table. Ethan had pulled Sinead onto his lap and they were wrapped around each other, kissing and talking, smiling into each other’s eyes. Ethan couldn’t seem to stop touching her, running the back of his hand down her bare arm, or stroking the hair back from her face while he gazed a
t her like she was the most fascinating woman in the world. They both seemed oblivious to the presence of anyone else. Was that really just sex? Romy wondered. She felt Kit’s hand on her shoulder and jolted. She turned towards him, and then he was pulling her into his arms, his lips descending to hers.

  He was still one of the best kissers of all time, she thought, as their mouths moved together. Kit’s tongue ran along her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to his, their tongues tangling as the kiss deepened. It was soft and wet, and luscious as chocolate, and Romy couldn’t get enough. She wanted more and more, her fingers clutching needily in the short hair at the nape of Kit’s neck.

  Finally, Kit pulled away gently, but only just enough so that he could speak. He was still so close she could feel his breath on her face when he murmured, ‘Do you want to go upstairs?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Romy nodded eagerly, not caring if she looked desperate. She was!

  ‘Are you sure?’ He glanced across at Ethan and Sinead before bending to whisper in her ear ‘You don’t have to come up now if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready to leave the party—’

  ‘No, I am!’ she assured him, afraid he would change his mind.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She grinned and bent to kiss him again.

  ‘Okay, then,’ Kit said, standing and pulling her up. ‘We’re going to call it a night,’ he said to Ethan.

  Romy had forgotten Ethan and Sinead were still there. She looked across at them now and found Ethan looking at her with a strange expression on his face that she couldn’t make out, but that appeared oddly like a mixture of bafflement and concern. She couldn’t understand why he would be staring at her like that, but it left her feeling off-kilter. Still, it only niggled at her consciousness for a fleeting moment as they said their goodnights. She was far too anxious to get upstairs with Kit to worry about it.

  They took their leave of Hannah and Tank, Tank now obviously feeling that he knew Romy well enough to grab her in a half nelson and rub her head so vigorously that she felt her neck might snap.