by Alice Raine
Well, shit, weren’t we just disastrous when we were in the same space for too long? How the fuck had I managed to forget about his dislike of contact?
Unsurprisingly, Marcus went out of his way to avoid me after that, and I actually found myself feeling relieved when all the heavy lifting was done and he and David left.
Clearly there was to be no resolving the differences between us then, so once we’d carried out our joint duties at Robyn and Oliver’s wedding it seemed highly likely that Marcus Price and I would go our separate ways and have nothing to do with each other ever again.
It was a particularly depressing thought.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Oliver
Marcus had grand plans of dragging me halfway around the world for my stag do, but in the end my demand for a quiet night with the boys had won out, and I was now sitting around a table with Marcus, Nathan, David, Nicholas, and Matías, who had flown in especially to join us for the weekend.
We were in The Vaults, an exclusive members club underneath the streets of Central London, built within old arches and tunnels of the underground system, and had just experienced one of the best meals I’d ever eaten.
The club was lavishly decorated with silks, velvets, and fine pieces of wooden furniture, and lit with the flickering light from oil lamps and candles. All in all, it had quite a Victorian Gothic vibe going on. The Vaults specialised in high class dining and also boasted one of the best wine and Cognac cellars in the whole of London, so Marcus had chosen our venue well.
So far, we had experienced the quality of the food and wine, and now it was time to begin sampling the spirits they prided themselves on.
‘That was delicious,’ Nathan declared, pushing his dessert plate away and giving an appreciative pat to his stomach.
Marcus wiped at the corners of his mouth and threw his napkin down. ‘It was good,’ he conceded. ‘I could have done better, though.’ His boast didn’t last long, because he burst out laughing almost immediately afterwards. No matter how skilled he was in the kitchen, my friend had never had a big head about his talents.
‘I have no doubt you could have, but I wanted you here at the table with us, not sweating away in a kitchen all night,’ I informed him with a grin.
A server gave a polite knock on the door to our room and entered while balancing a large silver tray loaded down with sampling glasses filled with a range of their finest Cognacs.
She placed them on a side unit and then set about making sure that we all had five different glasses in front of us. Once she had handed an information card out to us with details of the grape varieties used, she made to leave the room. Pausing by Matías’s chair, she leaned down and murmured something, her cheeks heating so much as she did that it piqued my curiosity.
As soon as she had left the room, Matías looked across at me with a devilish grin and rubbed his hands together. ‘My stag gift for you has arrived, my friend.’
Something about his expression and the wicked twinkle in his eye automatically made me suspect the worst and I was shaking my head even before he’d had a chance to explain what his “gift” was.
‘I said no strippers, Matías,’ I warned on a growl, but he held a hand up and shook his head with a look of mock offence.
‘You always think the worst of me, old friend, no?’ he answered with a frown. I was wondering if perhaps I had made a mistake with my assumption, but then he cracked another huge grin and stood up to pull the door open. ‘These are not strippers, they are very high-class lap dancers.’
Lap dancers were just as bad as strippers in my opinion, and I wanted nothing to do with any of it on my stag night. I groaned in frustration and then seconds later we were joined in our little archway by three beautiful women who all strutted in wearing high heels and flirtatious smiles.
Matías really was the devil incarnate. With his dark good looks, goatee beard, and the gleeful smile on his face all he needed was a little set of horns poking out of his hair and he’d look the part, too.
‘Matías….’ My protest was halted as the women removed their long jackets to reveal slender bodies encased in practically no clothing at all. Every pair of eyes around the table widened, and I think it would be fair to say that all of us were rendered temporarily speechless.
One of the girls made her way towards me and attempted to massage my shoulders. There were only so many ways you could avoid someone’s touch without being overly rude, so I shrugged off her hands before turning to Matías, who was encouraging one of the women to dance with him. I say dance; what I really mean is he was grinding against her and she was seeming to love every second of it.
Giving the girl behind me a tight smile, I pushed forwards in my chair to fully remove her grip. ‘No, thank you.’ I shot Matías a warning glare. ‘Matías, please remove your “gifts.”’
At my words he stopped his dance and looked across at me in surprise. ‘Really? You would turn this down? Even on your stag do?’
Holding his stare, I gave one small, sure nod. ‘I would.’
He assessed me for a moment or two and shrugged. ‘I can’t decide if I’m disgusted or impressed,’ he mused, sliding a hand around another of the girls and tugging her closer. ‘Your Robyn must be quite the girl to have you so ensnared.’
‘She is,’ I replied with no hesitation. Now that I’d found Robyn I wanted her and no one else.
Glancing around the table, I knew without having to ask that Nathan and Nicholas wouldn’t be interested in a lap dance or any other form of attention from these women; they were both far too happy in their own relationships to ever consider it. David and Marcus were both single as far as I knew, but neither looked particularly comfortable with the current situation.
‘Feel free to take your “friends” elsewhere if you wish to entertain them,’ I offered, knowing that Matías would no doubt get his full money’s worth.
Matías raised an eyebrow as he passed a greedy gaze around the women. ‘Don’t be offended, my dears; these are a stuck-up bunch anyway. Come, let us get out of here,’ he crooned, gathering the girls up and helping them back into their coats. ‘I’ll join you all later,’ he promised us, but as the third girl gripped his belt and dragged him towards the door he flashed me a grin. ‘Well, maybe I will…’
‘He is quite a character,’ Nathan remarked dryly as the door shut firmly behind Matías and the dancers, cocooning us in our alcove. David reached over and took Matías’s Cognac tasters and shared the glasses out around the rest of us before winking at me. ‘Waste not, want not.’
I accepted my extra shot with a nod and David raised his glass in a toast. ‘Cheers. To you and Robyn.’
We chinked our glasses together and as we took our first taste I savoured the flavour and jerked my head towards David. ‘I thought you might have joined Matías and the girls for some fun.’
David swirled the amber liquid in his glass and flashed me a cocky smile. ‘Nah. I might be getting on a bit, but I’ve never needed to pay for sex in my life. Besides, they were a bit skinny for my tastes.’
The Cognac lit a gentle burn in my throat and I hummed my approval. This really was the good stuff.
‘And I’m guessing that Marcus didn’t go with them because he’s too preoccupied with a certain blonde bombshell who frequents my club, eh?’ David teased, giving Marcus a dig in the ribs.
Marcus visibly stiffened. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ he grumbled, taking a large swig of his Cognac and nearly choking on the fiery liquid.
‘Really? It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’ve got the hots for Sasha.’ David looked at me and rolled his eyes as the alcohol freed up his tongue and made him state what every one of us around the table was fully aware of.
‘Fuck off, David,’ Marcus gritted, looking quite a lot like he was about to get up and walk out at any second.
I was usually up for a bit of banter like this but, having witnessed how upset Marcus had been when we’d helped Sash
a move house last week, I decided not to join in and instead shifted the conversation towards our drinks.
Thankfully, the distraction worked, and the rest of the evening passed with pleasant conversation about the quality of the Cognac and the arrangements for the upcoming wedding.
As much as I was enjoying the company of my friends, I couldn’t prevent my mind occasionally drifting to Robyn and wondering what she might be getting up to on her hen do.
I loved my friends dearly, but as the hours rolled on into the early morning I couldn’t wait to get home to my girl.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Robyn
As soon as I stepped inside the front door, Oliver slid an arm around my waist and pulled me into him with a soft growl. It was as if he’d been standing behind the door waiting for me. Looking up at him and finding a possessive smile spreading on his face, I decided he had quite possibly been doing exactly that.
He looked so handsome wrapped up in his suit, and I could smell the faint scent of some sort of expensive alcohol on his breath, but other than that he looked just as pristine as he had when he’d left hours earlier.
‘I’m not a jealous man, as such. Possessive, yes, domineering perhaps…’
‘Perhaps?’ I blurted in amusement, interrupting him as a huge bubble of laughter rose in my throat at his words. That was the understatement of the century!
Oliver put on a mock scowl as he attempted – and failed – to suppress a grin. ‘OK, I am domineering,’ he admitted with a wink, ‘but I’m not jealous because I know without doubt that you are mine, just as I am yours.’
Happiness filled me as a blush rose on his cheeks. It didn’t matter that we’d been together a while now, I would never tire of seeing how affected this incredible man was by me, and my heart swelled with love as I gazed up at him.
I gave his hips a squeeze and raised my eyebrows. ‘But…?’
‘How did you know there was a “but” coming?’ he asked in amusement.
Shrugging, I pouted up at him, glad that I was sometimes able to read him just as well as he could me. ‘I could hear it in your tone.’
Chuckling, Oliver nodded. ‘And how right you are. I was merely going to say that while I may not be an intrinsically jealous man, I am rather happy to have you home and in my arms after your night out.’
I ran my fingers down the buttons of his silk waistcoat and let out a mumble of agreement. Tonight had been such fun, but I couldn’t deny that I was happy to be home with him, too. Once my hand reached his belt buckle I tucked my fingers into the waistband of his trousers and gave a small tug. ‘Same. I didn’t like the thought of you out with the boys all night dressed up and looking as handsome as this.’
Oliver grinned down at me and then took my free hand and placed it over his heart. ‘This part deep inside me belongs to you and you alone. Along with the rest of me.’
Smiling goofily, I leaned forwards and placed a kiss on his chest.
‘I love that you can be just as possessive as I can,’ he murmured, before tipping my head back to place a lingering kiss on my lips. ‘I literally cannot wait to marry you at the weekend.’
It was so soon, but I felt exactly the same way. I was so excited to marry him that I was wishing the days away.
Oliver shifted me in his embrace so that he could press his hardening groin against my stomach with a sexy smile. ‘Did you have a good time tonight?’
With him hot and horny and pressed against me it was quite hard to concentrate, but I smiled and nodded as I thought back over the evening.
‘It was great. We had drinks in Carnaby Street and Sasha had booked a table at my favourite restaurant in Chinatown. Afterwards we went to a karaoke bar and sang and danced until our throats hurt.’
While karaoke would be Oliver’s idea of hell, I had loved it. We’d had our own private room with a huge sofa, massive screen projecting the music videos, and waiter service at the tap of a button. We’d sung to Abba, danced like idiots to Wham!, and crooned out our best attempts at some of the new chart toppers like we were pros.
Oliver nodded and bit down on his lower-lip as he gave a small thrust of his hips against mine. ‘I’m glad you had a good time, but it’s late. Let’s go to bed.’
As he took my hand and led me towards the stairs I could tell from the cheeky gleam in his eye that, even though it was almost three o’clock in the morning, we wouldn’t be sleeping.
Not for a while, anyway.
As if reading my thoughts, he paused on the bottom step and turned back to me, his brow lowering.
‘I hope your legs aren’t sore from the dancing.’
My legs? Frowning in confusion at his statement, I flexed one leg and shook my head. ‘No, why?’
Oliver’s eyes glimmered with wickedness, and then his lips curled into a sexy smirk.
‘Because when we get upstairs I want you presented on your knees for me.’
Just those few words and my body was wide awake and alight with arousal. I couldn’t think of one thing to say in response to his statement, so I licked my lips and stared up at him with wide eyes.
Oliver let out a low laugh and raised a hand to gently cup my face. ‘You’re going to have to indulge me, Robyn, but I’m feeling territorial. You’ve been out all night with God knows how many men eyeing you up, and now I wish to re-establish my claim on you.’
He had no need to re-establish anything – I was well and truly his and we both knew it – but I wouldn’t point it out, especially not when he was looking as devilishly sexy as he currently was.
‘OK, Sir,’ I whispered hoarsely, my throat parched from the adrenalin rushing through my bloodstream.
He gave a satisfied nod at my acceptance and, tightening his grip on my hand, led me up the stairs. Oliver flicked several glances back at me as he strode forwards, taking two steps at a time, and from the heated look on his face I had a feeling I was about to be in for quite a treat from my delicious Dom.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Robyn
As the plane lowered towards the shimmering strip of tarmac below us, I gazed out of the window with excitement growing in my stomach. A short moment later and the cabin jolted as the wheels made contact and then Sasha and I shared a grin.
Touchdown.
We’d arrived in Barcelona, and in just two days’ time I would be marrying Oliver Wolfe. I never ever would have dreamed that this would be the outcome when I’d first spotted him inside the walls of Club Twist all those months ago. With his intense stare, and dark, dangerous vibe he’d scared the shit out of me – that first night when we’d met I’d barely been able to comprehend the idea of talking to him, let alone dating him, or marrying him!
A sudden moment of utter panic clenched in my chest, and I turned to Sasha and grabbed her forearm with a steely grip. ‘Holy shit, Sash! I’m getting married! Married!’ I repeated, my voice rising to a squeal and drawing the attention of several nearby passengers who gave me amused glances before starting to gather their belongings for disembarking.
Sasha let out a chuckle and smiled broadly as she patiently pried my fingers from her arm. ‘Yes, you are my dear. You’re marrying your very own big bad Wolfe.’
My teeth started to nervously chomp on my lower lip, but I couldn’t help sharing her smile as she once again referred to Oliver as my “big bad Wolfe”. Her description couldn’t be further from the truth; yes, he had a certain penchant for a little kink and could make my knees quiver with just one dark, disapproving stare, but I’d quickly discovered that he was a very sweet romantic underneath it all.
‘But unlike Red Riding Hood, I’d place money on the fact that you’re going to get a happily ever after ending.’
I drew in a steadying breath and smiled. She was right. Oliver and I were a perfect match, and besides my brief moment of panic, I just knew that this was the right thing to do. I loved him, he loved me, and I couldn’t wait to be his wife.
‘You’re right.’ I nodded, my body relaxing, but th
en immediately tensed again as Sasha leaned in closer and gave me a wicked, conspiratorial look.
‘And if you get eaten by your Mr Wolfe, I guarantee you’ll enjoy it far more than Red Riding Hood did.’ My eyes widened as her rude joke sunk in and Sasha cackled. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But I bet Oliver’s great at it, right?’
Brushing my hair back from my blushing face, I peered out the window at the terminal building, determined not to continue a talk about Oliver’s oral abilities while we were in a packed airplane. ‘Check out the weather, it’s perfect!’ I blurted, hoping to distract Sasha from any further enquires.
Leaning around me to look out of the window, she nodded. ‘Much better than the cloudy skies we left at home,’ Sasha agreed, before prodding me to get my attention and passing down my hand luggage. Thank God for that, my distraction seemed to have worked. ‘Now, I believe there is a swanky hotel and jug of Sangria awaiting us!’
Grinning, I nodded and stood up. We had two days to go until the wedding, but Oliver had insisted on being traditional and staying in separate locations until the ceremony, so Sasha and I were booked into a small boutique hotel halfway between Barcelona and his home village for the night. Then tomorrow we’d move into the guest rooms at his parents’ house to spend the night before the ceremony.
Tonight, Sasha and I were going for drinks with Chloe once she arrived – she’d had to work today, so would be joining us later. Tomorrow, Oliver and I were having a quiet meal with just our parents and direct family, then on Saturday I’d be getting married.
Married.
To Oliver.
Once again, a tingle of excitement ran through my body, but with a chuckle I absorbed it and followed Sasha down the aisle to exit the plane.
‘So, I suggest we grab our bags, check in to the hotel, and then do a little sightseeing, maybe even seek out a cheeky cocktail. What do you think?’ Sasha suggested as we stood waiting for our suitcases to appear on the conveyer belt.
