by Lovell, Dani
“Well, whoever that was arranged it for my benefit and I’ll never be able to thank them enough,” I pull myself up to his level by his neck to kiss his lips. “So… are you going to make love to me now, handsome?”
“I sure am, sugar lips…” he says with a beautiful smile as he resumes the kiss of a moment ago.
I tighten my legs around his back, effectively pulling his body down and crushing it with mine, clearly arousing him if the loud, animalistic growl is anything to go by. Slipping my hand between us, I find his hard length and press the tip right where it needs to be, quivering with anticipation as I do; I need this. Badly.
He indulgently licks my upper lip, sensually, before smirking slightly at my pained, impatient expression. His smirk quickly advances to that revelling frown as he flexes his hips, slowly pushing inside me. I cry out loudly, loving that I can - which almost spurs me on even more; I want to fuck and make noise, I want to fuck without caring who might hear, I want to fuck my husband in our house, in our lounge, on our couch and scream and shout at the top of my lungs!
He continues to flex those hips rhythmically and smoothly, watching my face to ensure he focuses on the parts that make me moan and whimper. I could just lie here doing absolutely nothing and he would make sure, without a doubt, that I came. But even if I wanted to do that - I couldn’t. He excites me like no one ever could, I need to practically crawl up his body, clawing and squeezing in uncontrollable enthusiasm. My legs currently hooked behind his back, squeezing his waist as his hips grind into me, pushing his impressive girth deeper.
“Fuck, Oliver, you know it’s going to happen…”
“Yeah, let it, baby. I want to watch you,” he whispers, his voice strained.
“Uh huh, okay… uh huh…” I cry, the deep, taunting ache evolving into a sharp, excruciatingly satisfying explosion inside. “Fuck, yes!” I shout, writhing underneath him, savouring this feeling of utter indulgence. Maybe I shouldn’t consider an orgasm with my husband an indulgence, but I do because I feel so incredibly lucky to even be in this position with him. He’s loving me, he’s chosen to love me more than anyone else, forever.
He follows promptly, with a desperate groan, crying out some incoherent mumbo jumbo about loving my body and skin and soul and all that… I should probably listen a bit closer to try to figure it out, but I can pretty much get the idea; he loves me loads and the orgasms he has with me. Ideal, really.
We lay together on the sofa for a while, silent and sated, his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me closely against him.
“We should get back,” he whispers after a while.
“Yeah… don’t wanna…”
“Me neither. I bet Bea and Alexia will be pissed as farts by now, they already were, really.”
I giggle, “Yeah, we were a bit, you’ve sobered me up a touch.”
“How’d I do that?” he asks, rhetorically.
“Mmm… in the best way, ever.”
“Glad to be of service.”
“Glad to have you at my service… every day.”
“Forever.”
“Yep,” I say, taking one of his hands in mine and squeezing it, bringing them up to my mouth. “I promise I won’t get drunk every day, though.”
“I know you won’t, you wouldn’t want blurry vision when looking at such a specimen of male perfection. And… you’ll be housing un petit bébé soon.”
I grin and wriggle against him in excitement, clutching his hand. “Oh, I so can’t wait. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Absolutely. In fact… when you’re done with your girly ‘stuff’,” he says, avoiding any words that might sound too graphic; it’s funny how men don’t like to say ‘period’, “we could start trying straight away? What do you think?”
I turn speedily to face him and grab his face in my hands. “Really? Can we really?” I cry, almost a beg and he chuckles.
“Of course we can. Can’t wait for baby Hart to come into the equation.”
“Oh, Oliver, thank you! I can’t wait either! So we shall tell everyone next week then? For sure?”
“Yep. Let’s do it. We’ll invite the folks over for dinner and tell them first - yours too… and then we’ll tell Bea and then Tils and everyone else after.”
“Oh, Oliver. I know I’m nervous and everything, but actually having this plan to do it… it’s so exciting. I love you so much!”
“I know. And I, you.”
~~~~~~~
We get ourselves dressed leisurely before savouring each other with a long, tight embrace, and leaving for the pub again. It’ll be embarrassing to see Bea, knowing that she knows and orchestrated this little ‘meeting’, but I can cope with that - it meant I got some precious time with my Oliver. If only she knew exactly how appreciative I am… she just thinks it’s about sex.
When we get back, Bea invites us back to hers, Daniel will be back soon and they’re going to get a take-away, so she thought we could continue the fun into the evening to include Bea’s wonderful fiancé… Alexia’s lovely brother. We accept, liking the idea of spending some more quality time with our friends. Oliver also enjoys Alexia’s company, and we haven’t seen Bea and Daniel for a couple of weeks so it’ll be nice to catch up some more.
Oliver happily drives us all back to Watford and we enjoy a very late, very fun night in. Oliver is persuaded by all to leave his car and have a couple of beers with Daniel, which of course, he thoroughly enjoyed. They’re like a pair of kids when they’re together - just as they are with Luke. It’s actually really fun to watch how these men interact, they’re just like a bunch of girls, talking non-stop about anything and everything. It’s cute, and Bea feels exactly the same - I can tell by the undeniable appreciation and affection in her eyes as she gazes at Daniel when he’s pre-occupied with his friends, like she can’t quite believe her luck. I know the feeling, her brother does exactly the same thing to me.
Alexia and I decide to leave in the early hours, and our perfect gentleman, Oliver, offers to walk us home to ensure we’re safe. Bea and Daniel look like they’re about to get it on so with a rather digested look on his face, Oliver tells them he’ll crash on my sofa, rather than coming back to have to interrupt something gross. I’m silently praying that we can sneak some time in, together, after Alexia falls asleep.
The moment we fall through the door, we say our goodnights; Alexia has looked half asleep for the entire duration of the walk home and I know I’m feeling it. As she stumbles into her room, uncharacteristically inelegantly, Oliver immediately walks us into my room and closes the door. When I question him about Alexia waking or needing something, he simply shrugs and says, “Who cares? So I don’t like your sofa… we’re supposed to be best friends, we can share a bed. Besides, she knows we’ve done stuff before…”
“Maybe…”
“She saw the kiss at the fountains… she knows we’ve been intimate. Relax, baby…” And it’s his nonchalance combined with my exhaustion that allows me to ignore the paranoia and ‘what ifs’, to stumble into bed alongside my ‘everything’
He spoons me and holds me firmly against him, mumbling sleepily about loving me and my perfect skin. He takes my left hand in his and rubs my ring finger, right where the ring would usually sit, and eventually falls asleep, clutching it in his fingers.
Even when I wake occasionally, overheated or thirsty, he is still clutching my finger like that, making sure it doesn’t forget that something belongs there. Adorable, cute and such an Oliver thing to do. Oh how I love this man.
CHAPTER 17
FRIDAY 16TH AUGUST
Oliver wakes me this morning, fully dressed with two cups of tea in his hand, crouching down by the side of the bed.
‘Darling, wakey wakey…”
“Hmm?” I grumble, looking him up and down, “Clothes?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got to go shortly, but wanted to have a quick cuppa with you beforehand.”
“Oh goody,” I say, enjoying that I get to
keep him for a few minutes longer.
I sit up, pulling the sheets over my naked body and tucking them under my armpits, covering my chest, and I lean against my head board. He joins me, fully clothed, minus the boots, thank god; those dirty work things aren’t allowed within three country miles of my champagne pink bedlinen.
He hands me my nightie and looks over at me, holding his mug in both hands and resting it on his belly. “Good morning, gorgeous girl,” he whispers as I slip the nightie over my head, making myself decent in case Alexia comes in.
I grin and respond, quietly. “Good morning, handsome. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t offer you any overwhelming pleasure last night, or this morning, I don’t know what happened last night - we just passed out! This morning - I woke up late and thought it would be too risky to do anything with Alexia here,” he whispers.
“I know, don’t worry about that. Last night was lovely, I love falling asleep with you like that - it’s so… comfortable. Kind of reminds me of that first night in Vegas after Sta… after she left, when you came to my room for a chat. You asked to stay with me because I was comfortable…”
“And that was true, I promise! I mean… okay, of course I wanted more…but I really love cuddling you - you are comfy! Maybe I should try to sleep on those…” he whispers, raising his eyebrows and looking down at my boobs, “bet they’d be the best pillow, ever.”
I giggle, quietly. “I’m sure they would be for you, but I reckon your unconscious head resting against my boobs would be a little bit painful for me…”
“Meh… party pooper. At least let me have a feel…”
I laugh, silently as he continues to stare at my boobs under the nightie and sheets. “The door is open, Ol.”
“Yeah… but just a quick one…” he says, licking his lips and I can’t help but laugh out loud. He’s so funny.
He lifts his hand slowly and claws his fingers like he’s about to cop a feel and our attention is immediately pulled from the situation by Alexia, who pokes her head around the doorframe, “Good morning, guys, did you sleep well?”
“Morning, Alexia,” I say warmly, not worrying too much about what she may have seen, I’m pretty certain that she wouldn’t have guessed anything naughty by what she saw at that moment, “I slept like a baby, how about you?”
“Hi, Lex.”
“Hey, Oliver. Yeah, I slept wonderfully, too, thanks for asking. Thank you for the coffee, Oliver, I appreciate it.”
“No problemo. I suppose I’d better be off…” he says, making my heart feel a little bit empty already.
“Okay, will we see you later?” Alexia asks.
“Yeah - didn’t we make plans to go out for dinner or something?”
“Yep,” I respond, “to ‘The Feathers’ in Ricky with everyone - they’ve booked a big table.”
“Oh yeah - well then, yes, you will definitely be seeing me later, and I shall look forward to it, immensely.”
He slips off the bed and bends over it again, to kiss my cheek. “Until later, gorgeous.”
“See ya later, handsome,” I say with a wink, quite enjoying seemingly play acting in front of Alexia but being totally real with Oliver at the same time.
“Beautiful,” he says, stopping in front of her and kissing her cheek, “enjoy your day at work.”
“You too, dear!” she says, laughing and he turns to have one more sexy, goodbye look at me before disappearing out into the hallway, fumbling - I’m assuming, with his boots - and out of the front door.
I miss him already, but it won’t be long until I’ll be seeing him again looking perfect in his sexy evening clothes at dinner tonight. I know he has a very busy day on site today, so probably won’t be able to pop in for his tea and chocolate cake, but that’s okay - I can sneak outside with him tonight while everyone is deep in conversation and snog in the shadows somewhere. Mmm.
Alexia is already ready for work, so I am free to use the bathroom and get ready myself, and before I even disappear into the shower, Daniel has collected her and they’re on their way to the London office for a day of hard grafting. Within about an hour, I’m leaving too, with a spring in my step, as with every day of late, and a huge smile. Everything is great, and next week - it’ll be even greater. And I know things must be really good, because I just got my period, and I don’t feel even the slightest urge to punch someone in the neck or cry like a baby. Amazing.
Oliver texts me a couple of times throughout the morning; beautiful, loving messages that make clear exactly how much he loves me, and how sorry he was that he couldn’t give me one last kiss before he left. He really does outshine any other man I’ve ever known, tenfold. They’ve been a mere, mediocre, English summers evening where Oliver is the brightest, warmest, most tropical Hawaiian sunrise…
At the end of the day, Bea and I close up together and drive home separately to start to get ready for this evening. I’m so excited to see Oliver already. As much as I adore Alexia, and just love that she’s staying with me, I just wish that she knew, so I could at least be with Oliver around her, she could be staying in one of the spare rooms in our home, rather than here. Don’t get me wrong, as everyone knows, I just love my girly pad, but Oliver’s house is my new life, my ‘wife’ life - and that’s where I’d like to entertain my guests. Our guests.
She arrives home very shortly after me and we potter around together, getting ourselves ready. I send a text to Oliver to tell him I love him, but he doesn’t respond immediately, probably because he’s still at work or in the shower right now, so I’ll have to be patient and speak with him later. I feel like a teenager.
When I go through my wardrobe, I don’t think about what I want to wear; I think about what Oliver would like to see me in. He says he likes me in anything, but I know he likes certain things especially - he likes a dress, but at the same time, he loves tight trousers so he can see my shape nicely… so I decide on a L.B.D. - a lovely, plain, very fitted one. Tight, in fact. It has a stiff frill over the shoulder and around the arm holes and a very low back, but other than that - it’s a gorgeous little dress that will have Oliver pulling me out that back door and around the corner for a snog every two minutes.
Having finished my up-do and make-up, I slip into the dress and some silk, black, stiletto pumps and head to the kitchen, feeling fabulously dolled up, to pour a glass of wine for us both before we walk over to Bea and Daniel’s apartment. Alexia joins me, offering a little spin as she puts her clutch down on the counter. “What do you think?”
“Oh, Lex, you look stunning! I adore your outfit! I’m going to find you a British man this weekend, I hope you realise this.”
She giggles and comes over to take her glass of wine. She really does look beautiful. She has a pair of cream, pleated, silk-crepe wide leg trousers on, high waisted, with a navel length black, crocheted lace, high-neck, sleeveless top and some cream, suede pointy stilettos. Her clutch is black to match her top. She is so tall and slender - so elegant, and this outfit absolutely compliments that.
She’s always so well put together, I admire her, wholly, for her incredible independence and girl power. She knows what she wants - she gets it. She knows what she wants to look like and she owns that look, and it’s always impeccable. Her hair is down; a long, thick, dark mane, perfectly curled at the ends so it bounces all over the place when she moves.
We toast to a great trip for Alexia and fantastic weekend ahead, and take a sip as Alexia’s phone rings. It reminds me to go and grab mine from the bedroom, along with my clutch. As I step back out into the hallway from my room, I hear Alexia speaking a little louder than I’d have expected and something makes me stop to listen, looking through to the kitchen, seeing the back of her.
“What? No, we didn’t hear it ring, why? What’s the matter, Daniel?” she asks, urgently, somewhat out of character, and pauses to let him speak before responding again. “Why? What happened?” She turns slowly to look at me and I just know so
mething is wrong with Oliver. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but Oliver is in trouble.
It could easily be Bea or someone else, but for some reason I have an overwhelming, instinctive intuition that my Oliver is hurt. I drop my clutch on the floor as my chest constricts, just that look in her eye that so clearly tells me that she has something terrible to break to me.
“Okay, we’ll get there. What are they saying?”
I lift my hand to my chest and hold it there as if it might just ease some of this pain. I don’t know what it is, but I know I need to be worried. Alexia’s hand is over her mouth and she’s serious. Very serious. “Oh god, Daniel…” she says and I already see tears in her eyes.
Why am I just standing here? Why aren’t I screaming at her to tell me what’s happened? Why aren’t I reassuring myself that everything is okay? Because if I don’t - this might not be happening.
Alexia hangs up and grabs her bag, walking towards me with caution. I simply stare at her and wait. She puts her hand on my arm and looks directly into my eyes with such a caring, sympathetic expression and the tears fall from my lashes down my cheek as she tilts her head, ready to speak.
“Sweetheart, we are going to have to get to the hospital, very quickly.” She pauses and nods, knowing that I’m thinking it’s Oliver. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, “Oliver has been in an accident.”
I gasp loudly at the words, I knew it already, but hearing them being spoken is too harsh for me to cope with. “No…” I whisper, shaking my head, almost begging for her to be wrong.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“Is he… what… how…” I mutter, not really knowing what to do and I bounce slightly in desperation.
“He’s very sick, sweetheart. We need to go now.”
“Why now?” I ask, shouting. “Why right now? Is he… is he going to…” I weep, my hand across my mouth. “No…” I whisper, “…no! No, he can’t!” I cry, shaking my head and walking in a circle, looking for something; I don’t know what.
