by Amy Muscat
Now we just had to get through the rest of the family…
I knew they would love Lottie, they were laid back, and Lottie just had this thing about her that made people fall in love with her. Myself included.
She had made me break my rule: don’t fall in love.
I'd gotten to the point where I didn’t think I wanted to live without her. She was spunky, she didn’t put up with my shit and put me in my place when needed. She was funny and fun, she was out-of-this-world beautiful; her inner and outta Beauty spoke volumes. She was fiercely loyal to her friends and family. She was an angel sent from heaven just for me. What I had done to deserve her, I don’t know, but I was always told to never look a gift horse in the mouth. She was my gift, and I was keeping her.
Last night had been like a slap in my face. When Lottie had walked off intending to leave; I'd honestly thought that she wouldn’t come back. It had scared me, and I hadn’t been scared since the army. It had shocked me so much, that it felt like someone had just gutted me, and I'd realized that I had fallen in love with my dirty-talking Brit. I don’t know how she feels about me, and to be honest, I don’t think I could deal with her telling me she didn’t feel the same. So for now, I will be keeping it under wraps until I knew her feelings.
I inwardly rolled my eyes at my thoughts; I sounded like a fucking pussy. But as I looked down at my angel, thoughts of caring if I was a pussy or not, evaporated.
“You know what’s funny when I was dating Lucy, Mel had never really liked her. I'd always thought it was just her been a bratty teenager, but maybe it was women’s intuition that had told her to hold back and not like her. Fuck knows what it was, but I could clearly see that she had taken to you, and I'm so fucking glad. I also think the rest of my family are gonna love you, too.” I tell her as I press a kiss her to her lips.
She relaxes in my arms, and I didn’t realize until just then that she had been obviously worried. “Good, I'm glad. I want your family to like me. God that would be the worst thing; if your family didn’t like me.”
“Oh Beauty, you won't have to worry about that, just show them the real you, and you will have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”
She grins up at me, but then her eyes shift, and I watch as a pout puckers her pink lips. “Well right now, I only want you eating me.”
Fuck! Her words go straight to my dick, and it twitches eagerly, begging to get out of its confined space.
With a growl, I swoop down, pick her up, and carry her to my bedroom, where I do as requested of me and eat her out. Twice. Before I fuck her hard and fast on the bed, floor, and shower.
“FUCK OFF,” I TELL Blake… He carries on. “Blake I'm serious, stop it. I don’t want to meet your family looking like I was just dragged through a bush backwards because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Now stop,” I say slapping at the hand that was moving up my dress and caressing my inner thigh.
Sighing, Blake removes his hand from my thigh and pulls his face away from my neck, where he had been kissing and sucking at it like a vampire. “Angel, you don’t look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backward, and you won't. Now just let me go back to what I was doi– oww! What the fuck was that for?” He snaps glaring at me and shaking the sting from his hand.
“That was for not listening to me, and going for my knickers, again,” I tell him, but pick up his hand and placing a kiss the back of it. “There, all better now.”
“I know what else would be better with your mouth on it,” he mumbles, looking up at me hopefully.
Laughing, I tell him, “Tough shit. You're gonna have to wait. No way am I gonna meet your family when I've just had your cock in my mouth.”
He groans and adjusts his trousers, looking pained. “Please don’t say things about my cock and your perfect mouth; it just makes me harder.”
I giggle and watch his discomfort as I sit back in the leather seat of the town car his parents had sent over for us. They’d assumed that we would have a drink, and sent a car for us instead of us driving. We were heading off to Noir, a five-star restaurant in Upper-Manhattan.
We were about five minutes from the restaurant, but the traffic was bloody horrendous.
“Do you just want to walk? We’ll be there quicker than if we wait, and it’s already eight,” Blake says checking his watch.
I look down at my Louboutins and grimace, but I suppose he was right. “Yeah, okay,” I telling him sighing.
He chuckles as he follows my line of sight. “Don’t worry, Angel, they won't hurt when they're wrapped around my ears later; there’ll be no pressure on the balls of your feet then, only in your pussy,” he grins salaciously.
I snort. “Come on, let’s go, you insatiable, horny bastard,” I say picking up my clutch bag, as Blake tells the driver through the intercom that we are just gonna walk there.
“If you're sure, sir?” The driver replies.
“Yes, it’s fine, and don’t worry about coming back to get us; we’ll catch a cab.”
“Sir…” He says hesitantly.
“It’s fine, Peter, don’t worry. Go home for the night.”
Peter says his thanks and wishes us a good night.
“You too!” I shout out as I get out of the car, holding Blake's hand and dodging the cars and their bumpers.
Walking down the streets of New York City was sort of like walking down the streets of central London. It made me miss it…
“We’re here,” Blake informs me and pulling me to a stop.
I look up and see the black sign, NOIR, in big bold lettering. The whole front is painted in glittered black. We made our way inside and was stopped by the maître d’.
“Hello, Welcome to Noir, my names Callie. Do you have reservations?” she asks us with a smile, her eyes lingering on Blake for longer than what would be polite.
I clear my throat and watch as she blushes and looks away from us.
“Yes, Walker,” Blake replies to her question.
Callie nods as she skims over the names in the black book, that’s sitting on the podium in front of us. “Okay, the rest of your party is already here, and they are waiting for you. If you’ll follow me, I'll take the both of you to your table.” She tells us, picking up two menus and walking us through the restaurant and over to the back where I can see five people sitting.
The first person I notice is Melody, but that might be because she's the only one I actually know. Then I notice the two older people at the dinner table and gather that they were Blake's mum and dad. His dad had that classic handsomeness about him, sort of a George Clooney look, but with a lot less grey hair. His mum looked the spitting image of her daughter, just twenty-odd-years older: long straight brown hair, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile. A man, I'm assuming Frankie, had his back to me, and he was sitting next to a black-haired woman.
As we drew closer to the table, Melody was the first to spot us. “Hi, guys!” She jumps up and rounds the table kissing Blake on the cheek before walking over to me and pulling me into a giant hug, “Hi Lottie! I'm so glad you came.”
Laughing, I give her a squeeze back. “Hey. I told you I'd be coming.”
“Yeah, I know, I just thought you might change your mind… you look stunning by the way,” she smiles as she takes me in.
Brushing a hand down my velvet navy blue, knee-length dress, I tell her thank you.
“Come meet my mom, dad, brother and his wife, Tillie.”
“Okay speedy Gonzales, chill out. You’ll end up scaring her away for God’s sake.” Blake says pulling me away from his sister, rolling his eyes at her. I feel like a bloody rag doll.
“Blake leave her be, she's fine,” I roll my eyes at him, but smile at his mum as she stands there grinning like a fool.
“Hello, I'm Cecilia. It's lovely to finally meet you, is it Charlotte or Lottie?” Blake's mum says introducing herself.
“Hi, it’s lovely to meet you too. Oh, I prefer Lottie if you don’t mind.” I reply back to her qu
estion. I hated being called Charlotte; only my Nan called me by my formal name, and maybe my parents when they were talking seriously to me… sometimes Blake, too.
“Of course not, dear, it’s just that I've heard your parents call you by Charlotte, and Blake call you Lottie, so I just didn’t know what to call you…” She trails off.
Giving her a smile, I told her it was fine. I looked over to Blake's dad and held my hand out to him. “Hello, nice to meet you, Mr. Walker.”
He takes my hand, laying his other on top of mine and gives it a squeeze, smiling warmly at me. “Hello Lottie, you too. My son hasn’t stopped talking about you when we have spoken, and it’s Kyle, not Mr. Walker– Mr. Walker was my dad.” He grins an all-white toothed smile at me.
“All good things I hope, Mr…Kyle?” I amend, looking over to Blake, raising my eyebrow. He grins at me and winks.
“Only good things,” Kyle smiles.
“Good, good.”
I turn and introduce myself to Frankie and his pregnant wife, Tillie. It's obvious that Blake is the only adopted child out of the three of them; his sister looks like his mum, and his brother looks like his dad. But saying that, Blake has similar features to his brother and dad, so if it wasn’t made public knowledge, then I don’t think anyone would guess anyway.
We say our hellos and nice to meet you’s to each other before Blake pulls out my chair and pushes it in after me when I sit down.
“Drinks? What would you like?” Cecilia asks as she gestures for one of the waiters to come over.
“I'll have a Bud, what do you want angel?” Blake asks me.
“I’ll have a glass of Rosé, please.”
“Yes, ma’am?” The waiter asks Blake's Mum, as he walks over to the table.
“Can we get two glasses of Rosé, two bottles of Bud, two glasses of Lemonade with ice, and two fingers of whiskey, please?”
“Of course, coming right up. While I'm here, would any of you like an appetizer?”
“Yes please!” Tillie bursts out, eagerly. Everyone laughs, myself included, and we watch as she blushes. “Sorry, this baby is making me hungry,” the shy look on her pretty face is pretty endearing.
Frankie places his hand over her bump and asks what she wants.
“Can I just get some bread and butter, please? Oh, and a small fries, and a bottle of ketchup.”
The waiter looks astonished. Clearly they didn’t serve chips here, and I'm very sure they didn’t have a bottle of tomato sauce lying around.
“Erm… ma’am, we don’t…” He was stuttering and looking scared. I felt sorry for him; I've been to restaurants before where the customers would end up shouting and screaming at their servers just because the food was touching or that it looked messy. Like, what the actual fuck? Some people were fucked up. There was being fussy with food, and then there was being OCD about it.
“That sounds brilliant! I'll have the same, too, please. But I'm just gonna go to the ladies room, anyone else coming?” All three women nodded and said they’d come. I leant up so I could whisper into Blake's ear. “Ask the waiter if he would be able to ask the chef if he could get a couple of potatoes, slice them up into thin wedges, and just fry them up. Then ask him if he could run to the corner shop and grab a bottle of tomato sauce for Tillie. Give him this,” I tell him passing him a twenty-dollar bill, and pressing a kiss on his cheek, I stand up and walk with the girls to the toilets.
Melody holds the door open for me, I tell her thanks, and walk into one of the five stalls. I do my business and walk out to wash my hands. Blake's mum is standing there too, and she gives me a smile when she sees my approach.
“Lottie dear, would you mind me asking you a question?”
“Sure,” I shrug easily.
“Do you love my son?”
Whoa!
Where the fuck did that come from?!
“Mom!”
“What? I'm only asking.”
“Cecilia…” I didn’t know what to say to her. Did I love her son? I don’t know. I'd never been in love with someone before, so I didn’t know how I was meant to know. People say that when you know you just know. “I don’t think I can answer that question; 'cause I just don’t know. I've read about it a thousand times, and I've seen it with my parents, and my friends: but I've never been in love before. What I feel for Blake is sometimes so intense that it physically hurts. The man is a huge pain in my arse, he’s intense, he’s an alpha male. I've never been with anyone like him before. It's scary because I don’t think I could live without him…” I trail off, my voice coming out a whisper.
BANG!
I feel the massive explosion in my heart. I feel my body heat up, and become flushed. I can feel my knees shake. It felt like my eyes were gonna fall outta my skull with how wide they were open.
Bang, bang. My heart felt like it was beating along to a heavy metal song.
Holyshitholyshitholyshi–
“Lottie! Breathe Lottie, breathe for me.” Tillie’s soothing voice snaps me out of my panicked state, and it’s then that I realised that I had sunken to the floor balancing on the heels of my shoes. I look up at all three women, who are looking down at me with worry, and I force myself to breath and get up. My knees protest, and instead of butterflies flapping in my belly, it now feels like there were fifty Pterosaurs crashing and banging around in there.
“Darling, are you okay?” Blake's mum asks me, concern coating her voice.
“Yeah… I'm fine.” I reply instinctively. “I'm sorry… that just sort of threw me for a loop, that’s all.”
“I'm sorry, sweetheart; I never meant to trouble you. I was just being a mom, and what with what happened before with– shit! I shouldn’t have said nothing.”
“You talking about Lucy?”
“Oh! You know about her? Good I'm glad, didn’t want to put my foot in it.”
“Know about her? I met her last night,” I tell them with a sneer in my voice.
“Didn’t like the whore?” Melody asks.
“Melody!” Her mum snaps at her.
“What?” She shrugs. “She is a whore.”
I'm beginning to really, really like Blake's sister.
Still breathless, I laugh and tell her, “No, I don’t like her. Almost broke Blake and me up.”
“No!” All three women gasp.
“Yes, she did. But, then Blake– thankfully– talked me around and we had a small heart-to-heart and made things better last night…”
“Good, I'm glad.”
“And now you’ve made me realise that I've, in fact, fallen in love with him…” I say out loud, admitting it to myself for the first time.
THE WAITER COMES rushing through the door and shakes the bottle of ketchup over to us with a pleased look on his face. I give him a smile of thanks and turn my head back to the table, pick up my bottle of Bud, and take a gulp.
“What’s taking them so long?” I say to no one in particular.
My dad snorts. “Son, they're women; they take a minimum of half an hour in the toilets.”
True.
“So, you ready to be a dad, Frankie-boy?” I ask my brother, giving him a slap on his back. Tillie didn’t have long to go before her due date, I think it was only something like five weeks left, and the baby should be born.
I was looking forward to being an uncle. Again. I counted Ivy as my niece; the same will go for the twins.
“I'm scared shitless to be honest with you, Blake.” My big brother replies.
“Scared of what? Diapers, shit, and sick?”
“No, though that part I am not looking forward too. It's the fear of the unknown; is my child gonna be healthy? Is he or she gonna have all ten toes and ten fingers? Will I drop them? What if I hold the baby too hard, and hurt it? All those sort of questions run through my head constantly,” he tells me running a hand through his dark hair, looking stressed out.
“Bud, your baby is gonna be perfect, don’t you worry about that, I promise you. You are gonna be th
e best dad; that baby is gonna have all the love in the world a baby could possibly have or want.” I tell him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Thanks, little bro, that means a lot. Let’s not tell Tillie about this, though, I don’t want to stress her out thinking that I'm stressing about this,” he says pointing to his chest.
“Na, I won't, don’t worry… seriously what’re they doing? They’ve only gone for–” before I can finish, the girls start walking toward the table. “’Bout time, girls. Jesus, what were you doing in there? Braiding each other’s hair?” I ask sarcastically.
Collectively, they roll their eyes at me. When I stand up to pull Lottie's chair out for her, I notice that she won't look me in the eye. Totally avoiding eye contact. I also noticed that she looks pale, Lottie was never pale; she always had a golden glow about her skin. I touch her arm before she sits. “Hey, you okay?” I ask her with concern.
“Yeah, I'm fine, Blake.” She mumbles, still not looking at me.
“Angel, what the fuck? Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing, baby, I'm fine, just hungry.”
Why is it that women always say that ‘they're fine’ when they clearly are not. I'm about to open my mouth, but I watch my mom shake her head at me. So I let it go and push her chair in after her, keeping my mouth closed, but the curiosity is still there.
The girls’ food arrives; Tillie looks ecstatic at her fries and bread, and Lottie looks better than what she did five minutes ago.
