by Kimball Lee
“Why didn’t you tell me, why didn’t you stop me from being with him?” she asked.
“Because when you were with him you didn’t have that awful, worried look you had when I would leave for a mission. I thought he really made you happy and he was what you wanted. He is the most eligible bachelor around, with his charm and his billions. I wanted you to be happy, but the thought of him with you, touching you… it began to seriously fuck with my head and then you were kidnapped because I slipped up somehow. They would’ve killed you because of me, and I couldn’t have lived with that.”
After a week of braving the wilds they packed up and moved to a cozy room at the Prince John Inn. The nights were turning chilly as summer came to a close and they had no desire to return to London. In the next days and weeks they drove through the countryside exploring fairytale hamlets, planning what their lives would be like, just as they’d done in their law school years when they’d first been lovers. They held hands wherever they were, across the console of the Land Rover as they drove and when they walked down hidden roads overhung with the branches of ancient trees and up lanes thick with roses blooming riotously in the late August sun.
One day they stopped for lunch in the dearest little town Charlotte had ever laid eyes on. She walked excitedly up and down the one cobbled street and called to Finn in delight each time she peered in the window of yet another quaint shop. The establishments included a slate roofed pub called the Mad Hatter, an intriguing Curiosity Shop filled with antiques, and as Finn informed her, a cobbler that actually made shoes for the Queen.
“It’s a Dickens novel come to life!” she told him, “my God, who knew places like this really exist? Have you ever seen a more perfect little village in your life? I’m in love with it, in love with it, I tell you!”
He wrapped his arms around her and they both laughed at her exuberance, and the unexpectedness of it, Charlotte, the barracuda lawyer, in love with a tiny English town in the middle of nowhere.
“As a matter of fact I am acquainted with charming English villages; I grew up in this country if you remember. We lived to the north in Manchester but I visited my Grand Mum in the summers and she lived in a small town much like this one. Do you really love it here, more than any place we’ve seen so far?”
“I do, absolutely, almost as much as I love you, but not quite. You’re still my number one love.”
He kissed her; a long, heartfelt kiss, then rested his chin on the top of her head for a moment and asked if she wanted to see the best part of the village.
They walked along a grass lane and climbed over a wooden fence into a stand of oak and birch trees. Then out of the woods into a bright meadow where a charming two story cottage stood surrounded by a low, stone wall nearly hidden under trailing wisteria. Charlotte caught her breath at the sight of it, the thatched roof bowed slightly in the middle and there was a charming arched trellis with a gate and flagstone path meandering to the front door. On the picket gate hung a weathered sign that said Dovecote Cottage.
“Do you want to see inside?” he asked, holding up a large, iron key and looking like he knew the best secret in the world.
“Who lives here?” she asked, and couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice. “Was this your grandmother’s cottage?”
“No,” he said, “come on, my love, let’s have a look around.”
The front door was heavy oak with a leaded glass window, the door creaked as it opened and led directly into the living room. There were four rooms downstairs, a living room and small dining room, the kitchen and a spare bedroom. Each room had stone and plaster walls, roughhewn beamed ceilings, dark wood floors, a fireplace and wavy-glass windows. A narrow, crooked stairway led to two cozy bedrooms overlooking the front and rear gardens and a single bathroom with a white, claw foot tub sitting prettily in a bay window.
“Finn, it’s like a dream!” Charlotte said, turning to face him.
He was down on one knee holding a simple gold ring in his hand, and the look in his eyes said everything. She started to sink down beside him, but he told her to wait, he wanted it all to be done properly.
“Charlotte my only love, my very heart, I can’t live without you and I hope you’ll accept this ring and this house and this man for as long as we both exist.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she knelt in front of him, her arms went around his neck and he held her with tears on his own face. Soon they laughed; giddy and joyous as they wiped away their tears and before he could slip the ring on her finger she closed her hand teasingly and asked, “Is that it, you don’t have anything more to offer a girl like me?”
“Well, maybe I do,” he said, “maybe I have one more thing you want.”
Her hand went to the bulge in his jeans, but he caught it and held it away from him.
“Not yet, my love, is that all you think I can offer? You completely underestimate my romantic abilities.”
Just as the words left his mouth a little bell rang at front door and he took her by the hand and went downstairs to answer it. Finn swept a hand toward the door and smiled his best crooked smile, so Charlotte opened it. There on the doorstep stood a young man in coveralls holding a rope, at the end of it was a black faced lamb, “delivery for the bride,” he said.
She turned to Finn with a smile that wouldn’t quit, “the bride says yes!” she said, and she flew into his arms.
*
“I have a brother in London, he’d like to be there for the ceremony,” Finn said, as they packed the Land Rover to return to the city.
They’d gone back to the village and signed the papers to buy Dovecote Cottage, they would live there and turn the downstairs bedroom into an office and they would both practice law. A quiet, contented life, that’s what they knew they wanted. Now they would go to the American Embassy in London to be married in a simple ceremony.
“Brother?” Charlotte couldn’t hide her surprise, “I thought you had a dozen sisters, where did this brother come from?”
“I have four sisters to be exact, ‘Miss Know It All,’ and all of them are in California as you well know. My brother Jude, is older, he was already in medical school when my family moved to the states. We don’t get along very well.”
“Well I guess not, since you’ve never mentioned him, what’s the problem, is he scrawny and covered with warts and jealous of his drop dead gorgeous little brother?” she asked, leaning to kiss his neck as he drove.
“He’s a self-absorbed bastard, end of story,” he said, and that was that.
*
Charlotte couldn’t believe what she was seeing as she and Finn were escorted into an ornate reception room in the American Embassy. They would be reciting their marriage vows in front of an ordained Anglican minister and both were excited, yet completely at ease. However, Charlotte would have stopped dead in her tracks if Finn hadn’t taken her arm when she spotted his brother. It had to be his brother; the two were so alike in looks it completely threw her off balance for a moment. There were differences, of course, as well as similarities, she thought, as they walked toward him. He wasn’t as fully muscled as Finn and his hair hung almost to his shoulders. He was beautiful, that was her first thought on seeing him, his hair was the same chestnut brown as Finn’s and it was tucked behind his ears as it fell in long waves. His eyes were the exact riveting grey-blue and he had Finn’s ‘gift from the Gods’ mouth.
“Jude, thanks for coming,” Finn shook his hand and they clasped each other’s shoulders in an awkward hug.
“No problem, I wouldn’t have missed it. This, I presume, is your ravishing bride-to-be,” his eyes turned to Charlotte and he went on, “I’m Jude, Finn’s least favorite and only brother, and I see you’re even more stunning than you were in that unforgettable magazine pictorial.”
“I’m happy to meet any relative of Finn’s,” Charlotte said, and Finn added, “All right then, let’s do this!”
It was just the four of them for the ceremony, Charlotte and Finn,
along with Jude and minister. They kissed over and over, as soon as they were pronounced husband and wife, until the minister cleared his throat and Jude clapped his hands. A small, elegant wedding cake and champagne were provided, compliments of the Ambassador, and the beaming couple sat with Jude and toasted to their continued happiness.
Jude wanted to take them out for a celebratory dinner at Launceston Place, but Finn told him he wasn’t quite ready to flaunt his presence in such a public spot.
“I’m dead, remember Jude? I have a new name but not a new face so I’m keeping a low profile until some of my enemies fall from power.” Finn said, caressing Charlotte’s knee and raising his champagne glass, “to my breathtaking bride, Charlotte, also known as Mrs. Hunter, cheers, my love.”
“Cheers, to the radiant couple, best of everything to Mr. and Mrs. Hunter,” Jude said, and Charlotte heard genuine happiness in his voice and saw true affection when he smiled at his younger brother.
Jude dropped them off at Heathrow airport and before he drove away, Charlotte tapped on the window of his Jaguar.
“We’d love to have you visit when we’re settled, Jude, do you think that might be a possibility?” she asked.
“I’d love it, but you’ll have to clear it with my brother so he won’t set the hounds on me or worse,” he smiled and shrugged his shoulders and drove away.
*
They flew to Nice, then took a short train ride to the hillside city of Villefranche-sur-Mer on the French Riviera. Their honeymoon cottage was high on cliff with a postcard perfect view of the Mediterranean Sea. They would stay for a month, just long enough for the ownership papers to come through on their new home in Surrey. Exhaustion from the day’s excitement and the travel from London to the South of France began to overtake them, but they were elated, too, that they had done it, they were married. It had taken some years and near misses for them to be together. First they were friends, then secret lovers, then friends again, but always in love.
“I love your dress, my love, and your hair and shoes and all the trappings of your beauty. Don’t think they went unnoticed by your husband on our wedding day, but most of all, I love you and I’m happier than I ever imagined I could be.” Finn was unpinning her upswept hair and unfastening the tiny buttons down the back of her dress as he spoke.
He was her husband and he’d been her best friend for years and in the last weeks they’d engaged in marathon sex, yet his tender words made her blush. He noticed her pink cheeks and that her hands were trembling as they pushed his suspenders aside and unbuttoned his shirt. A lump formed in his throat from the rush of emotion he felt at that moment, and he knew the way she looked, with her eyes so full of love, would stay in his memory as long as he lived.
For a moment they were both shy as they shed their shoes and clothes, and finally he was gloriously naked and she wore only a white corset with no panties and garters holding her silk stockings. They stood together on the balcony looking out at the biggest moon that ever existed; at least that’s how it seemed on that magical night. He kissed her until they were both panting, and he ran his fingertips across the shadows of bruises on her upper arms where his strong hands had held her.
“I’m sorry about these,” he said, “do they hurt? Your beautiful white skin wasn’t made for a brute like me.”
“My skin and every part of me was made exactly for a passionate lover like you. But don’t worry, there’ll be no chance of you bruising me tonight,” she said, and with a gleam in her eyes she turned and sauntered into the room giving him a spectacular view of her delectable little ass.
He followed her to the bed and when he finally raised his eyes from her pretty bottom, she was holding his suspenders and smiling and she instructed him to lie down. His heart skipped a beat and he said, “Ah, my love, am I about to discover your wicked side?”
“Lie on your back and hold on to the head board,” she said, trying to sound stern.
It was his turn to blush as he followed her instructions, grasping the curved spindles of the iron bed, his pulsing cock bared to her. She straddled him and his hands went to the laces of her corset, but she moved them back to the curly-cued iron and secured them with the suspenders. He tested the strength of the bonds and they were surprisingly tight.
“You tie a good knot, my surprising love,” he said and his voice was dark with wonder.
“You think so? It’s my first, but I don’t think it will be my last,” she said boldly and then leaned down to kiss his shockingly hot mouth, one of her favorite parts of him, one of his many miraculous parts.
She mounted him slowly, easing herself moaning onto his achingly hard cock, moving to her own rhythm. He began to move with her, his hips lifting as he buried himself in her, until she pressed her hands to his writhing hips and held him still. He panted beneath her and she shushed him as he started to speak. She spoke softly, telling him to breathe deeply, the night was young, they had all the time in the world. She untied her laces and freed her high, pink tipped breasts as the corset fell away. He lifted his head toward her and she leaned forward, letting him take first one tender nipple then the other in his mouth. At last, when she couldn’t still his hips or her own, she leaned backward, grasping his thighs, giving him a perfect view of her glistening pink pussy as he pumped into her and they both came long and hard.
*
In the sun-drenched weeks that followed they explored the city. They rented a Vespa and she squealed with terror and delight, holding onto Finn for dear life as they raced over the narrow roads that wound through the hilly town. Autumn was settling in but the days were warm enough to lie on the beach while the nights had an exhilarating chill. They prowled the local shops, buying goodies for their new home. Treasures made locally in Provence, pure linen sheets and lavender sachets and soaps, heavy pottery dinnerware and fine wine glasses, all shipped to Dovecote Cottage, to await their return. Charlotte coaxed Finn into a tiny, almost hidden jewelry shop, and he stood patiently as she had him try on wedding bands. They settled on a plain white gold band and left it, along with her wedding band, to be engraved with the words, ‘my love’ spelled out in French.
They ate every kind of fresh seafood the Mediterranean had to offer and French pastries that Charlotte came to crave as Finn fed them to her and she licked and sucked his fingers as he did, which led to more intimate activities. They walked along the beach one sublimely hot day, Charlotte in an itty-bitty French bikini she bought at one of the shops and Finn in his American swim trunks. Most of the women on the beach were nude and the men wore Speedo’s whether they had the body for them or not which sent Charlotte and Finn into fits of laughter. They made plans to take the train to Monte Carlo the next day to see the sights and gamble, although Charlotte hadn’t had good luck with casinos in the past, as they both knew well.
Finn found an empty spot on the sand and dropped their towels and took off his tank top, and then they stood holding each other, loving the feel of their almost naked bodies touching in the open air. A group of young women walked by and glanced admiringly at his muscled body and Charlotte gave them a ‘go to hell’ look and Finn laughed at her sudden display of possessiveness.
“You never seemed to care what I did before, my love; I like that you’re jealous.”
“They can look but not even think about touching my husband,” she said. “You, Phineas Hunter, are off the market.”
“I love this side of you, you were always a bit of an innocent and it was sexy as hell. Now it seems my beloved is pushing her boundaries and it’s very fucking sexy.”
“So you wouldn’t mind other men seeing me naked,” she asked, and untied the silken cord of her bikini top and let the triangles of fabric fall onto the sand.
He caught his breath, then leaned down to retrieve the tiny top and brushed her stomach with his miraculous lips as he stood up. “Do I mind men seeing your flawless beauty? I’m not wild about the idea, because your mine and another man touching you would lead to serious conseq
uences for the poor bloke. Of course, two can play this game,” he said, and untied his swim trunks.
“I don’t think so,” Charlotte said, stopping his hand and retying the trunks. “I mean, you sort of represent the U.S. Government, and we don’t want the national treasure on display.”
He threw his head back and laughed and it was her favorite sound in the world, that and his deep, sexy voice and accent. “My love plays by her own rules,” he said, “and makes up the rules for everyone else as it pleases her.”
“Your love is eager to hold on to you,” she said, “in more ways than one, and if the women on this beach see your assets, one of them is bound to want a piece of the action.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her sun warmed breasts against his sculpted chest. He moaned and tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her head back so her neck was easy prey for his lips. His other hand moved down to her barely covered ass, the small bit of fabric rode up and left the small round cheeks bare against his hand.
“Do you want to know why I don’t mind for you to stand her like a bare-breasted sea goddess?” he asked, peering earnestly into her eyes.
“Yes, my love, I want to know,” she whispered, as she ran her fingers through his sexy, wind-blown hair, she was certain the wetness between her legs was visible on the miniscule bikini bottoms.
“Because you are my love and I believe with all my heart that just as you’re the love of my life, I’m yours, as well. I knew it long ago when you didn’t care if JP found out about us, about our constant love making. That’s what it was, making love and it wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt before. It was so much more than just physical and I was already yours, long before the first night we slept together, because you’d broken my heart open and written your name there.”
