Devils Don't Fly

by M. H. Soars

  Heat rushes to my face as an overwhelming need hits me hard. Holy fuck. How can this man turn me on with only a few naughty words?

  Clearing my throat, I say, “Your grandma is waiting and I’m freezing my butt off. Come on.”

  Oliver opens the driver door and kicks Linus out, announcing he’s driving. There’s a moment of hesitation on the poor guy’s part, but once Adeline says it’s okay, he gives up his seat to Oliver. Since he’s now driving, I take the front seat on the passenger side. It’s weird on this side, like something’s missing.

  “I don’t know how you can drive so well in Cali. I’d probably kill a few sheep if I attempted to drive on the wrong side of the road.”

  “You and your American mentality. Who said we drive on the wrong side of the road?”

  “I’m sorry, wasn’t the first car invented by a German? On what side of the road do they drive again?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Touché, sugar.”

  “Beautiful and smart. Jackpot, Ollie,” Adeline says, making me blush again.

  “Where to, Nana?”

  “I think Saylor would love to see the Hatfield House. She’ll probably find it cheerier than our home.”

  “Ugh, not that place again,” Charlotte mumbles.

  “I promise we’ll hit the shops afterwards,” Adeline continues.

  “Bloody hell. Not the shops,” Oliver groans, then turns to wink at me with a tiny smile on his lips.

  The butterflies in my stomach make their presence known in a vicious manner. Why did I have to be so lucky and get savage insects instead of the pretty ones?

  Adeline’s promise seems to appease Oliver’s sister, as she doesn’t make any other remarks.

  Hatfield House is one of the great stately homes of England, Adeline tells me. It’s set in a large park—the Great Park—and an earlier building on the site was the Royal Palace of Hatfield. Only part of it still exists, a short distance from the present house. Adeline speaks animatedly about the history of the place, as if she had been there during the time Queen Elizabeth I resided in it. Once we arrive, Adeline insists we take the brief tour of the old royal palace.

  “Nana, you’re killing me here,” Charlotte groans.

  This time, the matriarch chooses to ignore her grandchild.

  The ‘brief tour’ takes more than an hour, and we don’t even cover the entire thing. I try to show interest whenever Adeline makes a comment, but the lack of sleep from last night is finally catching up with me, making it difficult to concentrate. When she turns away, I fail to suppress a yawn and Oliver catches it.

  “Tired, sugar?”

  “Yes. Someone didn’t let me sleep last night.”

  “Oh really?” He wraps both his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “Expect to not sleep for the next few nights. We have to catch up.”

  I feel it again, that tug in my chest as my heart goes on manic mode. I can’t believe it took me over a month to finally see the truth hidden inside of me. I should’ve known from the start that falling in love with Oliver was inevitable. He’s my person, even if I don’t remember parts of our history.

  “We don’t need to catch up only after dark, you know.”

  His eyebrows shot to the heavens. “What are you proposing, sugar? Do you want to find a family restroom?”

  “How come I have the feeling we’ve done that before?”

  Oliver answers me with a sweet yet toe-curling kiss. It only lasts a few seconds, though that’s because Charlotte makes gagging sounds and tells us to get a room. With cheeks aflame, I step back, looking at everything but Adeline or Oliver’s sister.

  We head to the exit, stepping out into the cold, gloomy weather once more. Charlotte is already walking ahead. I lag behind, throwing a long glance in the garden’s direction. Even under the gray sky it looks breathtaking. From where I stand, I can see the mini maze box and beautiful topiary.

  Oliver must’ve caught me staring, as he says, “We’ll come back here another day. Charlotte will have our heads if we delay her shopping another second.”

  “All right. I’m getting kind of hungry anyway, and the garden looks massive.”

  “I reckon it’s probably close to forty acres.”

  “Forty?”

  “Hey, we’re talking about the Tudors here. We have to take a picture in front of Queen Elizabeth’s Oak. It’s a must.” His eyes twinkle and I pinch his arm, not doing any harm through the thick woolen jacket he’s wearing. I know he’s mocking me somehow.

  I didn’t realize that when Adeline said shopping, she meant the catered-for-tourists shopping area. The Stable Yard Shops surround a super cool fountain topped by a pineapple—the symbol for hospitality, I’m told. One shop that catches my eye particularly is Heritage Brides. I veer in its direction for no reason. I guess I’m curious. The store is based in the Harness Room at the Stable Yard of Hatfield House. The ancient barn has been turned into a vintage woodland wonderland. From a quick glance, I can tell they stock the finest wedding dresses and accessories.

  A sales assistant approaches me and asks If I need any help. She’s not super cheery, nor overly arrogant, and I give the usual bullshit excuse she must be tired of hearing that ‘I’m just looking.’ She keeps hovering nearby, though, and that begins to unnerve me. Does she think I’m going to steal a freaking wedding gown?

  I leave the store after a minute, finding Oliver waiting for me with his hands tucked inside his coat.

  “Did you find anything you like, sugar?” He’s grinning like a fool.

  “Ha-ha. No.”

  “Excuse me,” someone says behind me. I turn to find the shopgirl not too far away.

  “What?” I say, irritated. Does she want to check my purse?

  “Uh, I’m sorry to bother you. Are you Saylor Blue from Wreck of the Day?”

  The words vanish from my vocabulary as my jaw drops. I didn’t expect to be recognized in freaking England.

  “Yes, the one and only.” Oliver wraps his arm over my shoulder.

  Shopgirl spares only a glance in Oliver’s direction before she returns her attention to me.

  “Would you mind terribly signing an autograph for me?” She extends a piece of paper and pen in my direction.

  “Uh, sure,” I say, feeling a little guilty for my earlier outburst.

  “It’s for my younger sister. We both love your songs, but she’s truly a superfan.”

  “Oh, what’s her name?”

  “Caroline. She’s driven her nurses bonkers by insisting to play your songs nonstop.”

  “Nurses?”

  Sadness takes over the woman’s face. “Yes. She’s been in hospital for a couple of months now. She has leukemia.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “It sucks, but this will sure cheer her up.” The girl waves my autograph before thanking me and returning to the shop.

  I’m still staring at the store, reeling, when Oliver breaks the tension by being a goof.

  “Bloody hell. I must be losing my mojo. She didn’t even ask for my autograph.”

  “Good. Someone needs to bring your ego down a notch.”

  He watches me through slits and I wait for his smartass reply. Instead he looks over my shoulder and says, “Come on. Nana and Charlotte have already headed to the restaurant.”

  “That’s it? No wiseass remarks from you?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re definitely losing your mojo.”

  He snakes his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer so he can whisper in my ear. “Let’s see if you still think that later today.”

  The promise in his words turns my legs to mush. I ought to stop baiting him like that, unless I want to combust on the spot.

  The restaurant is busy, but not packed to the gills. It seems we missed the lunch hour rush only to arrive in time for tea. My internal clock is a mess anyway, so I don’t care what type of food I eat, so long as I fill my belly.

  The décor is a mix of streamline
wood and metal furniture. Long tables take up the middle while smaller ones line the walls. Modern light fixtures hang from the ceiling, giving the place a sleek industrial look. Big windows allow the light to pour in, even though the sun has yet to make an appearance today.

  Adeline and Charlotte are sitting at one of the smaller tables by a window. When we join them, Charlotte doesn’t glance from the menu in her hands; either she’s still pissed at Oliver for his earlier prank, or the situation with her father is also affecting her deeply. My gaze immediately switches to Oliver. So far, he hasn’t shown any sign that he’s on the verge of going back to that dark spot I found him in last night. I’d like to say I’m the reason, but in all honesty, I think he’s hiding his turmoil from me.

  I reach for his hand under the table, lacing our fingers together. He looks at me with such adoration in his gaze that it’s hard not to swoon. He’s so beautiful, and when he smiles, I just want to hold him tight and never let him go. My vision blurs as I catch an image of another time: Oliver standing in front of me, holding a diamond ring between his fingers. The memory is gone as fast as it came.

  “Sugar, what’s the matter?” He watches me like a hawk, a big frown marring his forehead.

  “I-I… it’s nothing.” I break eye contact. For whatever reason, I don’t want to share what just happened with the rest of the table. No, I want to tell Oliver when we’re alone.

  He brings our hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

  Charlotte finally puts her menu down, raising her hand to call a waiter’s attention. She drops her arm with a jerky movement, making a strangled sound. We all notice her strange reaction, her gaze fixated on a point behind me. Oliver and I turn to see what warranted such a strong reaction from her, and we find a young couple at the entrance of the restaurant.

  “Do you know them?” I ask.

  “Isn’t that Joseph Whitman the Third?” Adeline asks.

  “Yes,” Charlotte hisses.

  “Your ex-boyfriend?” Oliver watches Charlotte closely.

  She only nods this time before standing abruptly and announcing she has to use the restroom.

  “Nana, do you know why Charlotte and that preppy boy broke up?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, honey. But to be completely honest, I wasn’t too upset about it, unlike your mother. I never liked that boy.”

  The boy in question stops by our table to greet Adeline.

  “Mrs. Best, what a surprise to see you here. I’ve heard about your son. I’m so sorry.”

  “No need to say sorry. My son is still very much alive.”

  Adeline’s sharp response don’t seem to affect Charlotte’s ex.

  “Naturally. Didn’t I just see Charlotte walk away a second ago? I would love to say hello.”

  “Shouldn’t you be at Oxford?” Oliver butts in, not even attempting to disguise his contempt toward the man.

  The guy looks down at Oliver as if he were an insignificant gnat. I want to punch his throat. Who the fuck does he think he is?

  “How would you know about the schedule of such a prestigious school? Didn’t you exchange a proper education for showbiz?”

  His tone drips with contempt. I can’t believe Charlotte dated that idiot. Just a minute in his presence and I already want to kill the guy.

  “How is the family business going? I just read in the papers about the closing of half a dozen Whitman stores throughout the country.”

  Joseph’s mask finally cracks, his face turning a deep red as he stares daggers at Oliver. “Not that you would know anything about it, but this is all part of a strategic maneuver. The business is as good as ever.”

  He spins on his heel, dragging his date with him. Good riddance. Charlotte comes back a couple of minutes later.

  “What did he want?” she asks as she sits back down.

  “Nothing, just to annoy everyone with his presence.”

  “Are you okay, Charlotte?” I ask.

  She massages her temples and glances down. “No. I have a bloody headache. Do you mind if we just go home?”

  Adeline turns to stare at her granddaughter properly, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, we can go now. I’m finding myself quite weary as well.”

  Twenty-Five

  Oliver

  It was fucking hard to control my temper back in the restaurant. It was the first time I’d met Charlotte’s ex in person, but I’ve heard about him and his family. I have to ask, what the fuck was she thinking? I’m an arsehole and never made any attempt to hide it, but that guy is in another league. He’s deceitful, I could tell just by looking at his smug face.

  My intuition tells me something bad went down with Charlotte and that wanker. It had to be serious enough to make her change her mind about attending Oxford. She won’t tell me, though. I made sure she would never come to me with her problems. Add that to the list of things I regret in life.

  I’m jittery when I walk into the guesthouse, making a beeline for the little minibar in the living room. I tried my best to suppress the shit storm brewing inside of me for Saylor’s sake, but I just can’t keep doing it stone-cold sober.

  I feel Saylor’s presence behind me as I break the seal of the brand-new bottle of whiskey. I pause before turning around, clutching the empty glass hard until my knuckles turn white.

  “Oliver, talk to me.”

  “I’m tired of talking.”

  “So, you’d rather get drunk?”

  “It helps, sugar.” God, I sound so pathetic.

  She stops next to me, taking the bottle. “Look at me.”

  I do as she asks, tired of keeping up the charade any longer. “I’m fucked up, sugar. Can’t you understand?”

  “I’m fucked up too. So what?”

  “I can’t stay here, in this town, in this house. It’s messing with my head.”

  “They we won’t. Adeline will understand.”

  “You wouldn’t think I’m a coward for running away?”

  “Do you think I’m coward for not wanting to stay at my mother’s place?”

  “Of course not.” I don’t say it out loud, but it’s a completely different situation. Saylor had been the victim. I’m the villain, and nothing is ever going to change that.

  “If being here hurts you, then I say we leave right now. I want to restart our lives together, Ollie.” She touches my face so tenderly that I want to bottle the feeling her touch elicits for when she’s not around.

  I capture her hand to place a kiss on her open palm. “Me too, sugar.”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  The change of subject subterfuge is obvious, but I don’t care. When the small smile blossoms on her lips, it makes it easy to forget about all the shit in my life.

  “Oh yeah? What?” I pull her flush against my body, suddenly thinking about other ideas on how to feel better.

  “I remembered something today.”

  The air whooshes out of my lungs like a strong gale. I can’t remember how to draw it back in. “What?”

  “It was just a flash, gone too quickly for me to really hold on to it. I think I got a glimpse of when you proposed to me.”

  “For real?” I almost can’t contain the excitement in my voice.

  “Yeah.”

  I crush her against my body as I claim her mouth, and she matches my urgency with the same ferocity. No, I take that back—she’s the one in charge. Like a boss, she pushes me against the edge of the counter, looking wild. And I love it. She drops to her knees, her gaze glued to mine. Using both hands—something she’s been doing more and more often without realizing—she unzips my jeans and frees my erection. I brace against the counter, watching my beautiful wife through a red-hot, lust-infused gaze. Her pink tongue darts out, licking the drop of precum from the tip.

  “Saylor….” I close my eyes as a shiver runs down my spine. Fuck. I had forgotten how good her warm tongue feels on my cock.

  “What is it, Ollie?”

  “Don’t stop what you’re doing.�
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  “Do you like when I do this?” She licks my entire length this time, starting from the base and lazily drawing her tongue back to the top.

  “Fuck yeah.”

  She repeats the motion, just as slow as before. It’s the best kind of torture.

  “You have to remind me what you like.”

  She watches me through her thick eyelashes with a teasing grin on her lips. She knows exactly how do drive me insane, but all right. I’ll play the game.

  “I want your warm lips wrapped around my cock. I want you to suck me hard as I fuck your mouth.”

  “Bossy, aren’t you?”

  “I know what I want.”

  “And do you always get what you want?” She raises an eyebrow.

  “I got you. Do you need more proof than that?”

  “Was I hard to get, Ollie boy?” She replaces her tongue with her hand, pumping my cock up and down in a delicious rhythm.

  “Very much so.” I almost can’t get the words out.

  She brings my entire length into her mouth, sucking a little as she does.

  “Fuck me,” I say.

  My nut sac tightens as a wave of pleasure curls around my spine. I have to clench my ass cheeks together to avoid coming prematurely.

  Saylor is committed now, no more teasing on her part. I don’t know what drives me wilder, her expert mouth milking my cock or the delicious sounds she’s making in the back of her throat. I don’t think I can avoid the inevitable for much longer. I begin to pump my hips, literally fucking her mouth like I said I would. She takes everything I have without complaint, and a few seconds later I surrender to the ecstasy, grunting her name like a caveman as I come.

  She drinks every single drop of my release, only stopping when there’s nothing left.

  Sagging against the counter, I open my eyes again and glance at her. Her lips are swollen and red, matching the flush of her cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

  I lift her, then sweep her off her feet.

  “Oliver, what are you doing?”

  “What do you think, sugar? I gotta return the favor.”