Oliver
I stare at Josephine sleeping next to me in the bed. Her red golden ring is still laying on the nightstand of her bedside. She took it off before we flew to Finland and hasn't put it back on yet. In just a few hours we have to get up for work but for now... for right now, we're together.
The flight home was smooth as expected and we went straight to bed after arriving. Josephine fell asleep instantly while I kept thinking about how to show her that her feelings for me are special. She doesn't know what we have is special. She has never felt anything but lust for a man, so naturally these emotions scare her. She doesn't know what to do with them. She doesn't know it's love.
But in 13 weeks she will. She has to. Because this can't end. I can't leave her.
I hope she will realise that these two worlds that we live in don't matter or that at least two can become one and if they can't than we will build our own damn world. We have to.
I lick my lips as the l-word is sitting on my tongue again. I've sad it last night when the Northern Lights we're dancing over her flawless skin as she slept in the igloo in the Finnish nature. We watched the disco in the sky for about three hours but then she fell asleep in my arms. That's when I said. Because I couldn't hold it back any longer.
And it felt bloody good to whisper those words although she didn't hear me. Or maybe because of it.
What she said yesterday after the snowball fight scared me a little. She says one thing but does the complete opposite. No wonder I get frustrated with her.
Suddenly, she stirs and her eyelids flutter open. Gosh, this sky blue...
"Morning."
Her lips curls into the most beautiful smile. "Good morning." She greets me before running her fingers through my hair. "How did you sleep?"
"I feel a bit jet legged to be honest."
She chuckles, "Me, too. Maybe that's why we're awake when it's still dark outside."
"Maybe..."
She kisses me softly before pulling away way too quickly for me. "I'm glad we made that trip. I'm going to cross those coordinates out on my wall as soon as possible."
"You're going home today?"
"No. It's Frogmore House for the monthly dinner until Rory has given birth." She explains with a nod.
One of the obligations she has being a Bolton. "When will you be back?"
"At around ten."
"I have the late shift today so I'll be finished by that time."
"Do you want me to pick you up?"
"You don't have to pick me up from work every day."
"I know that but I'm offering it because it's on my way from Frogmore House to home. So it would be very selfish of me to not pick you up."
"Okay good. You can pick me up." I give in.
She shows me a kind of smile she's never allowed me to see before. It makes my heart stop beating for a moment. It also makes me cock throb with need. Josephine climbs on top of me before slowly giving my cock what he so desperately needs: his home. She moans audibly as my thick cocks stretches her warm and wet pussy. I expect her to ride me but to my surprise she doesn't. Instead she stares deeply into my eyes until my whole body is on fire.
"Thank you." She whispers.
Sex is Josephine's way of showing her gratitude.
Josephine
I gather the top of my hair together before clamping it to the back of my head. After some serious morning sex that made me come bloody three times, I am a bit late on time so I didn't wash my hair today. But it doesn't look that bad, so I can wear it in a half-up and half-down style. I quickly finish my outfit by putting on the diamond 'Galanterie' stud earrings by Cartier. The earrings add just the right amount of sparkle to my black business dress.
"Wow, you look hot in that black dress."
I smile before turning around. "A little black dress is always a good choice."
His green eyes transition from a pine green to a sea foam green right in front of me. I watch his body walking over to me like a lion chasing its prey. It's graceful, slow and oh so mesmerising to watch. It's so mesmerising that I'm glued to the spot but I still wince at his hand touching my waist. "It's a blood good choice." He agrees with me as he runs his hands down the curve of my spine until he plants them on my ass.
My body reacts with fire to his touch. Every nerve ending reacts with a pulsing need, even the roots of my hairs react to him and his wonderful smell. I wrap my arms around him and intertwine my fingers behind his neck. Even with my black ten centimetres high Louboutin stilettos I am still not as tall as him. There're still 20 centimetres separate us. "Oliver,"
He seals his lips over mine before I can say another word - and I get sucked into this swirl of emotions that he makes me feel. There are the sparks coming from every touching point that gain strength every passing second. There's a funny feeling in my stomach that makes me nervous but also incredibly calm at the same time. There's a warmth coming from my heart that is spreading through my body until it reaches my toes, my fingertips and the roots of my hair. There's his smell filling my nostrils. It gives me a sense of comfort and a kind of lust I've never felt before.
And that's not even the description of the rumba which is happening in my mouth. The sensation in my mouth, this sensual dance that our tongues are dancing, makes my toes curl because it's so bloody good. I could come just from kissing him.
I've never had that with anyone else. Not even with Edward Rothschild.
I pull away as the thought of this man enters my mind. It's not fair to kiss one man but think of another.
But my lips are shaking from the need to kiss Oliver again. My whole body is craving his lips again. It's so hard to resist. "Have fun at work today." I breathe out after a moment of looking at him.
Oliver and I are friends with benefits.
But are Edward and me the same?
Oliver runs his thumb over my lower lip, creating goosebumps all over my skin. "I'll wait for you at the corner of Middle Temple Lane. Right where you picked me up the last time."
I nod. It was a good spot. Very well hidden. "Ten pm. If anything happens I'll call." With that I force myself to let of him and walk away.
No, actually I almost run. Because if I don't get away the need to have him inside of me will get too strong and I will definitely be late for work.
And I can't give my parents another reason to not get me a seat at the table. It's bad enough that I've lost my office.
Oliver
During lunchtime is when it's the most chaotic at Luigi's. Because that's when everyone from Covent Garden and everywhere else from London decide it's a good idea to eat at Luigi's. Some even come from Westminster, Chelsea and Kensington. Giovanni left half an hour ago with a special delivery of three different salads - a Caprese salad and two Crunchy Vegetable Salad with Ricotta Crostini -, two margarita pizzas and a salami and mushroom calzone. I have a feeling it's for the Kensington Palace since the letters KP were written in gold on the boxes. Besides I know Princess Charlotte enjoys margarita pizzas.
The calzone has to be for Nate. I'll ask Josephine when she picks me up today.
Mia is standing at the shop counter to take as many orders for takeaway as possible while my job is to serve the people who sit on the first floor.
I pick up two black leathered menus and walk upstairs. Luigi said his favourite people in the world are here today and to be extra nice to them. They sit at the balcony. It's his spot for VIPs.
The many square tables with red checked tablecloths are full with dining people. It's crazy how many people love Luigi. I walk passed the tables until I reach the balcony. Because it's a rather cool day, we've put out the heating mushrooms and placed blankets on the wooden chairs. But to my surprise not even the weather can stop people from sitting here.
There are only three tables out here. I get out my notebook and a pen as I walk to the last table. "Good afternoon, my name is Oliver. I'm your servant today." I feel off my usual answer before looking up.
Fuck!
Troy and Gabriella Bolton are seated across me. I've recognised Josephine's parents immediately because she looks like the perfect mixture of these two. Troy Bolton is wearing a light grey suit with a black tie and black leather shoes. The outfit looks like it was made for him and knowing how rich they are it probably is. He has very rugged features and dark blue eyes with chestnut coloured short hair. A simple platinum ring is sitting on his left ring finger. He looks like someone you don't want to fuck with.
His wife Gabriella is wearing a white dress with a boat cut neckline underneath a black blazer with shoulder pads and gold buttons. A pine green blanket is laying on her lap so I can't see her shoes. Her dark brown curls are open. Diamond earrings are glittering on her ears as much as the wedding ring on her left ring finger. There's a green eternity ring sitting on top of it. I assume it some kind of anniversary gift. Mrs. Bolton has dark brown eyes and full lips. Her makeup is light to highlight her natural beauty. Josephine has her lips and her father's hair colour.
But to my surprise she doesn't have his eyes. Josephine's are a sky blue while Troy's are more of a navy or royal blue colour.
Gosh, her mother is beautiful. Really beautiful - the kind that makes people stop doing whatever they do and just stare at her because they can't believe she's real. No wonder Josephine is so beautiful as well. The source of her beauty is sitting across me.
"I think you've stared enough at my wife." His steel hard voice slices through my thoughts.
I snap out of it. Shit, now he thinks I am after his wife when really I am in love with his daughter. Bloody hell! "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. I just... recognised you." I breathe out before handing them the menus.
"We don't need the menus. We know what we want." Troy answers for them.
Of course he does.
"One big Italian salad with extra black olives, two calzoni stuffed with salami and mushrooms as well as two glasses of Pieropan Soave Classico Calvarino." Troy says to me. His eyes allow no mistakes.
I feel too intimidated to even make notes. He's scary, really scary... No wonder I haven't met him yet.
"No dessert?" Gabriella asks him. Her voice is very feminine. It reminds me of a wind chime. But I have a feeling she's the one holding the reins in the marriage.
"Not if we want to make it to our two o'clock meeting."
She looks at me with her warm brown eyes, "We'll take six slices of tiramisu for takeaway."
I nod before turning on my heel. My legs are weak and I force them to move. They feel like jelly. I swear I can feel Troy Bolton's gaze burning holes into my back.
Josephine
I stare at the man who will be forever connected to Paris for me.
Edward Rothschild.
I can't believe I googled him! But I just couldn't help him. Ever since he has entered my mind earlier I couldn't stop thinking of Ed. It's bloody annoying.
In the last hour that I've spent stalking Edward Rothschild on the World Wide Web I've found the following:
Nothing new except for the basics and the conspiracy theories about the Rothschilds.
There are a few photos of Ed throughout the years, but all of them taken by paparazzi. There's no official social media account: No Facebook, no twitter, no instagram, no tinder, no snapchat - not even a Spotify playlist!
This man is even more secretive than me! Even I have a private Instagram account! There were a few articles about his humanitarian work on the websites of the organisations he worked with. He built water tanks in Africa and India. He helped after natural disaster and refugees. He built schools and hospitals in South America and Middle Africa. He even supports the protection of the Great Barrier Reef! He was in bloody Australia!
That's on my bucket list!
I wince as my iPhone starts ringing. I quickly close the many tabs in my safari before looking at the screen. It's Rory.
I don't think twice before picking up. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah. We're good. Still pregnant. I'm calling to cancel our monthly dinner. George and I are flying to Whaley Bridge in a few minutes."
"What's in Whaley Bridge?" I ask her confused.
"A dam is about to collapse due to the heavy rain. The place is getting evacuated. George and I just publish an open letter to the people there. We're going to take the helicopter and help out. I'm sure they'll need doctors and helping hands."
"You mean Royal helping hands."
"Yes. The King is unable to come as he's in Morocco. I didn't hesitate to jump in."
"Rory, you're 33 weeks pregnant. You can't fly!"
"I can and I will. Jo, this is not just a job for me but it fuels my soul. I need to do this. My presence there will help the people. It'll take their minds off of their worries. We'll chat for a few hours and George will help out at the dam."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Charles could have sent Char and Nate. That would have been an epic strategic move not only in the favour of His Majesty but also the young couple who is getting married in two months. They would have been the better choice!"
"Jo,"
"Rory, this is not a smart movement. I suggest you film some kind of video and for George to fly alone. Or better yet for George to fly with his sister and our brother."
"You are not part of my PR team! You refused to work with me."
I did. More than once because I don't want to have a seat in this royal carrousel, well not more than I already have. "What does Sophie say?"
"I called her and she... she said I should be careful."
Even her doctor says it's not smart to fly there. "In other words you should stay home."
"Yes but I will go. I really want to go. I feel like I could help so much-"
"Rory, the people will understand. Especially after you've given birth." I whisper into the phone.
"Jo, you can't dictate-"
"Do Mummy and Daddy know?" I interrupt her.
"No, I thought you could-"
I laugh out loud, "Oh no. You will not foist this off on me. And trust me, Mummy and Daddy will make sure you'll stay home."
She's silent. "Fine. I'll call Mummy right now." She says before hanging up.
Oh, I wish I could see that phone call!
I decide to google Whaley Bridge.
Whaley Bridge dam 'collapse': Reservoir wall damaged as public warned to stay away
A wall around Toddbrook Reservoir near Whaley Bridge in Derbyshire has been severely damaged after flooding. Residents in a remote rural town at the bottom of a huge reservoir fear its dam could collapse.
Now police have warned people in nearby Whaley Bridge to stay away from the water and the surrounding area. A spokesman for Derbyshire Police said: "We're currently with our partners at an incident at Toddbrook Reservoir in #WhaleyBridge following reports of damage to the reservoir wall. Road closures with diversions are in place and we're asking people to avoid the area whilst we assess its stability. We're not currently evacuating people from Whaley Bridge, however we are advising business owners and non-residents to leave so that if we do need to evacuate it can be done as quickly and safely as possible. Volunteers are not required and we're asking people to stay away."
But residents in the pretty town have shared their concerns online: "Some homes and businesses are being evacuated," one Twitter account reads. "Doctor has now cancelled or moved appointments to Chapel if you can get there but our roads are closed at Tesco and Horwich End," another resident warned.
"There are some very real concerns that the reservoir that sits over our small Peak District town of Whaley Bridge is going to collapse. If it does, it'll cause chaos. It's like something out of a movie! Keep safe neighbours! Xx," reads a further tweet.
High Peak Borough Council tweeted to confirm Whaley Bridge Memorial Park has closed for safety reasons. A further warning for rain has been issued by the Met Office and is in force today until 8pm. "There is a small chance of fast flowing or deep floodwater causing danger to life," the Met Office said. Flooding will be worst in large parts of Cheshire, Staffordshire, Greater Manchester and Derbyshire. Up to 20mm of rainfall is possible within an hour in some parts of northern England, according to the Met Office.
UPDATE: The Duke and Duchess of Oxford have just voiced their condolence in an open letter on their website OxfordRoyals. uk. Their Royal Highnesses have even promised to help as much as possible.
Could that mean we're going to see them in Whaley Bridge soon although Their Royal Highnesses are officially on paternity leave? That would debunk the rumours that the Duchess has already given birth to #BabyOxford.
I run my hands down my face. This open letter was not good. It should have come from the monarch, the king, not the heir family. He should have sent Nate and Char to boost their popularity while keeping Rory, George and their three unborn daughters safe at Frogmore House in Windsor. They could have written a comment on some official Instagram page of Whaley Bridge and it would have all been perfectly fine. No hurt feelings. No strange thoughts.
But no, Rory and George - and the king - decide otherwise. I mean not even Wills and Catherine have publicly voiced their condolences!
Who the heck is advising them?!
Now Charlotte is going to be seen as arrogant and not down to earth as much as the world thought she was and all the blame is going to be on Nate. This was not right and smart either.
This is not how I would have handled this situation.
My iPhone vibrates on my desk again. I pick it up and stare at the display. A text from Wlad.
"There's a photo of you in Lapland. Shall I remove it?" He wrote. His tone is as always neutral and professional.
Shit, that's probably the photo from the tourists. I pinch the bridge of my nose. My parents don't know where I was this weekend. I especially left my Cartier ring on the nightstand so they don't get worried. I hope they won't check the records of the jet because then they will know where I was this weekend. I shouldn't play with fire.
"Remove it." I hit the send button.
I can't have any photos of me swirling through the internet. I might not be as secretive as Edward Rothschild but my reputation is just as important to me.
Oliver
I fill the two white wine glasses with the Pieropan Soave Classico Calvarino with shaky hands. I can feel Troy Bolton's eagle-eyes watching my every move. I expected him to be protective and intimidating but not this much. I tried to not look at Gabriella Bolton too much.
When I walked back to them with the salad and the two calzones earlier, they were actually holding hands and giggling. They looked like teenagers who are head over heels in love with each other, rather than people who have been married for 30 years.
It was sweet.
To my surprise they choose to share the big Italian salad on which Luigi created a heart with the extra olives. He's such a romantic!
Suddenly, Gabriella's mobile starts ringing in her black purse that has a double C logo. Josephine has various purses with the same logo. Even a pair of diamond earrings and a few necklaces. I have no idea what brand it is must it's surely a luxury brand.
Gabriella pulls the ringing iPhone out of her purse and I watch her brown eyes widen. She doesn't hesitate to pick up. "Rory,"
Troy's navy eyes widen at the sound of Josephine's twin sister's name.
"Yeah, of course... No, we understand. Just be... just be extra careful, okay?" Gabriella says into the phone.
"You may leave." Troy's voice makes me wince.
I nod. "Enjoy your lunch."
"We'll just have the dinner at home then. I'll call everyone. Don't worry about us." Gabriella's voice fills my ears as I turn on my heel and slowly walk away.
Does that mean the monthly dinner at Frogmore House is cancelled?
Josephine
I park my silver Aston Martin next to Nate's blue Ferrari in front of my childhood home. The Spanish mega mansion looks stunning in the light of the setting sun. I get out of my car and walk through the white pebbles in the driveway. The 3 metre high black wooden double doors are open so I walk inside. I get greeted by the huge white marbled foyer in which Nate and me used to run circles in when we were still toddlers. Zeus comes running over to me immediately. The Australian Shepard has grown older like us but he's still in very good spirits and top form because Daddy goes running with him every morning through Richmond Park. That combined with the evening walks and walks around lunchtime with sometimes my parents or me like today makes him walk around for 20 kilometres easily since Daddy alone runs 15km daily.
I knee down to greet him properly. "How are you?" I ask him smiling as I run my fingers through his long dotted fur. He's such a beautiful dog.
He barks at me before rubbing his face against mine.
"I've missed you as well, buddy." I say before rising to my full height and kicking off my stilettos. Barefoot I walk up the left white marbled curved staircase that leads to the first floor. The wall to my left is plastered with framed photos that were taken by my father through the years. It starts with photos of my parents before they got married, then Mummy when she was pregnant with Della, Della with Ana and together with Mummy and Daddy after they adopted her, Mummy pregnant with Rory, Nate and me, photos of us on our first day of school, photos of Della's graduation at Oxford University when she was fourteen, Rory's first time on the court and Nate's first swim race, my first time competing on horse Sally, Ana's graduation from Oxford, our first day at Le Rosey with George, Char and Louis, Della getting the Nobel prize in Stockholm... it stops with Rory and George's wedding photos. This wall tells our whole family story.
I love this wall.
Because I love my family.
As soon as I've reached the gallery, I turn left. My room is the first on the left. I open the door to my childhood and inhale deeply as I stare at the room that has been my home for 15 years. The creme coloured king sized bed with pink bedding, the creme coloured velvet armchair with a light grey cashmere blanket with my initials stitched on, across the open fireplace are still the same. My trophies for dressage riding are still sitting on the built-in shelves next to the white marbled fireplace. Nothing changed.
This feels like going back in time.
Even the wallpaper is still the same. The many real gold dots that Ana painted on my walls as well as the light grey thin stripe that goes all the way through my room. It symbolises the equator and my curly handwriting wrote coordinates and places I wanted to visit above and underneath the line according to their distance to the equator.
I've crossed out all the places in the U.K. as well as France but the rest, about 35 places, are left untouched. But today, I can cross out Lapland and with that my wish to see Northern Lights. I walk over to my white dress and pick a golden sharpie out of my drawer. I've been waiting 14 years for this moment. I walk over to the word Lapland that's written above the light grey line and cross it out with a fat grin on my lips.
Lapland is done.
Now there are 34 more places to visit before I die.
"Hi!"
I wince at the sound of my brother's voice. I turn around and stare at Nate's navy eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean? Dad called and said the monthly dinner would be here today. Asked me to bring Char so she could relax here a bit."
"Char's here?" I ask him surprised.
Nate nods. "But not Della and Ana."
"The doctor card?"
"The doctor card. And Rory pulled the Royalty card."
"You know in two months you can pull it as well." I say and playfully hit my elbow into his left rips.
Nate chuckles. "Yeah but I promise I won't pull it out as much."
"You won't have to. You're not the heir family."
"Can you imagine the pressure Rory is under?"
"To my surprise she doesn't see it as pressure. She loves being a royal not for the fame but for the help she can give. I mean, she's 33 weeks pregnant and flying to a tiny town near Manchester just to make the people smile!" Rory's the most altruistic person of the family.
"I know. It's like she was born with blue blood. Come on, Mummy and Daddy are looking for you." He nods and I follow him out of my room. "What were you doing there anyway?"
"Crossed out Lapland." I announce with a grin on my lips. "Saw Northern Lights this weekend."
"Really? You flew there all alone?"
Shit. "Yeah. The timing was right and the sky was... Nate, it was magical."
"Did you take photos?"
"Of course! But I haven't sorted anything out yet. You'll see them next month." I promise him.
"Or I'll just drop by sometime next week."
And bump into Oliver?! I gulp. "Sure. Just text me beforehand. I'm quite busy next week."
"I'll probably drop by on Thursday evening. The rest of the days are filled with wedding stuff and royal engagements." Nate says as we walk down the hallway which is filled with framed photos of our family.
"You're sticking to what I told you?"
He nods. "Apparently that made us almost as adored as Rory and George. It's a head to head run, let me tell ya."
I chuckle, "Good. The Royal Coat of Arms is done?"
"Yes. Went with a lion as I told you. It looks good. Even Char says she's impressed."
"That's great. Any news on the title stuff?" The smell of cooking food starts filling my nostrils. It smells like Italian and that makes me think of Luigi and Oliver.
Nate shakes his head. "Nope."
"Char called the king an ass because of it."
"Well, he is!"
I shake my head, "Don't say that within the walls of the palace."
"Even Wills and Catherine think he's being unfair!"
I walk down the staircase that leads into the kitchen. "King Charles won't sit on the throne forever. Shut your mouth and wait it out." I suggest as I enter the kitchen. The King is already 97 years old. The Queen died at 120. Really, there's not a lot of waiting time if he's going to live as long as his mother.
"You sound like Mummy and Daddy." Nate says as he follows me down the staircase. Mum, Dad and Char are already in the kitchen, filling up the plates with pasta. They're all dressed in jeans and sweaters with no shoes on. Really, a stranger wouldn't see the royal blood that's standing in the kitchen. Char blends into the family so well because she actually is family.
"That's because we're usually right, son!" My Daddy says with a grin on his face.
"Usually but not always." I tell him while narrowing my eyes. Sending me a floor beneath them was definitely not the right choice.
My father gulps, "Your time will come." He promises me.
"Is this about work again?" Char asks us while eating a few thin stripes of sliced pepper. "I thought you were happy where you are."
I look at her. My future sister-in-law still doesn't look pregnant. Perhaps she and Nate are going to be able to fool the world on their wedding day. But that's still two months away and a lot can happen in those months. Even a baby bump could appear. "I am just making the best out of the situation that's been given to me."
"I see, well your articles and photos say otherwise." Nate says to me as he walks past me over to his pregnant fiancé.
"I have to agree with you on that one. You work is really incredible." My mother compliments me.
"And now imagine what I could have done if this had been my project and not Liam's. It wouldn't have just been incredible but outstanding!" I hiss at her. I will never forget what they did to me no matter how much I enjoy working in the social media team.
"Jo,"
I lift up my hands, "Let's just have dinner, okay? I didn't come to fight."
"We'll have tiramisu as a dessert." Daddy says in a soft voice. He knows he can't win against me.
"You've made tiramisu?" Char asks him.
"No. Brought it from Luigi."
They had lunch at Luigi's today?! Shit, did they run into Oliver?!
"Any chance you brought cookies as well?" Nate gives his best puppy eyes.
"They were sold out." Mum answers before picking up two plates. "As Jo said, we should eat."
"Luigi has a new employee by the way."
"Yeah? Any good?" Nate asks as he picks up two more plates.
"Couldn't keep his eyes off of your mother." Daddy's features harden for a moment as the memory comes back.
It was definitely Oliver.
"But that's not really news, is it?" I ask them as I pick up he last two plates and follow them into the dinning room.
"No, it's sadly not." Daddy confirms.
My parents might be in their late fifties but they still look like mid-late thirties. Women my age turn their heads for my father and the same goes for my mother with men. There are forums discussing if my parents have had anything done. People don't understand the concept of healthy eating, indulging, exercise and enjoying life.
I hope I inherited those genes.
Oliver
It's already dark outside when I leave Luigi's. It's been a hectic day but I made lots of tips. 300 pounds extra are like winning in the lottery for me. I know Josephine offered to help me out longer and I reluctantly accepted her offer but I'm still doing anything to be independent again.
Except finding a job as an illegal immigrant is not very easy. I was lucky to get the first two jobs in the first place... however, I won't depend on Josephine forever. That's not how I've been raised. My father provided for us, his family, while he was still alive so naturally I want to do the same for my future wife and family.
Except Josephine is definitely someone who doesn't need anyone to help or provide for her. She has more money than she could ever need and spend.
But I don't know how much longer I can take her money and not give her anything in return.
I stop at the corner of Middle Temple Lane and pull out the iPhone that Josephine has loaned me. It's ten pm.
Suddenly, a silver Aston Martin speeds down the lane. It abruptly stops next to me. I open the passenger door and get inside. We're off two seconds later.
"I didn't expect you here." I say as she drives through the streets.
"Why? I'm punctual. It's how I've been raised."
"I met your parents today at work. I overheard a conversation that your mother was having. It sounded like the dinner was being cancelled..."
"My parents mentioned seeing you at Luigi's today. You were their waiter, weren't you?"
Troy already didn't sound impressed this noon... "I think I pissed him off. I couldn't help but notice the similarities between you and your mother."
"It's half as bad. He's pissed at every man who looks at my mother for longer than five seconds so don't worry." She waves with her hand. "People say I come after my father."
"In terms of the looks definitely but I think your character is more form your mother than your father."
She smirks, "You don't even know them but just a five minute interaction with them revealed so much?"
I shrug, "They're also still head over heels in love with each other."
"I told you. They're like teenagers who can't get enough of each other."
"Does it bother you?"
She stops at a red light and looks at me. "I grew up seeing how much love and respect two people can have for another. I grew up with parents who are still as passionate about one another as before they became parents. I don't know what it's like to have parents who are different. Frankly, the day my parents aren't madly in love with each other is the day of the apocalypse."
"Apocalypse, huh?"
She shrugs before continuing to drive to Landmark Place, the skyscraper we live in. "We've had the dinner at home in Richmond today because Rory and George drove to Whaley Bridge to help there."
I frown. I didn't heard anyone talking about the Duke and Duchess of Oxford going somewhere. "Aren't they on paternity leave?"
She nods, "Royal duties. It was unofficial. I don't think they even brought a photographer with them."
"So, this engagement was purely about helping?"
Josephine nods as we reach Landmark Place. "Yes. Rory wanted to cook and bring coffee to the people working at the dam... George and her even want to provide medical help."
I totally forgot that Their Royal Highnesses are actually doctors. "She should be called Doctor Duchess."
Josephine laughs out loud as she stops the car in front of the entry of the glass skyscraper. "That's a fitting nickname. I'll pass it on." With that she gets out of the car.
I get out of the car as well and watch how an employee climbs behind the wheel and drives the car into the underground garage. I follow Josephine into the building and feel like a puppy following its owner. It still feels surreal to walk through this marbled foyer, let alone call the penthouse home. We get into the golden lift.
The doors close and we lift with high speed. "How was work?" She asks me.
"Apart from meeting your parents it was good. Pretty hectic but I made lots of tips."
She nods, "That's good. Are you hungry?"
I've worked all day. I'm starving. "Are you offering to cook for me?"
She shows me a smirk, "No. I wanted to call the restaurant downstairs and have them bring something up while you fuck me in the shower."
That's an even better plan. I place my hands on her hips and pull her closer to me until the tips of our noses touch. I stare deeply into her sky blue eyes that quickly transform into a royal blue. I move my left hand up to the nape of her neck. "I could fuck you in this lift."
I can feel how her breathing changes and her pulse quickens. "There's a camera in the left corner." She breathes out but her eyes say something totally different.
"If the security men are already seeing us like this than I don't think they would mind-" she shuts me up by sealing her delicious lips over mine. Our tongues start dancing their beloved rumba again. She wraps her arms around me and pushes her chest against mine. Her nails dig into my shoulders before she runs her hands down my back, following the curve of my spine.
She makes kissing more important than breathing.
The doors of the lift open with a quiet ping but neither of us moves for a moment. Instead, our tongues continue dancing.
It's like the world has stopped turning.
Suddenly, the doors of the lift start closing again. I hit the button behind me to keep the doors open without leaving her lips.
After minutes of this bliss, she lets go of my lips first. "Lets get naked."
What Josephine wants, Josephine gets.
I put the last spoon full of truffle risotto into my mouth. Wow! Those Michelin stared chefs in the restaurant downstairs definitely know what they're doing. The staff brought up six different plates with tiny portions but somehow I feel already full before I reach the dessert, which is a Crème brûlée according to Josephine. Whatever that is.
We're sitting on the couch while Josephine is working on her laptop and I'm eating my dinner. I've never eaten dinner sitting on the couch with her. It was always at the kitchen island or the dinning table. I'm beginning to think the flatscreen above the fireplace across me is fake. She's never used it and even today, Josephine would rather work than see some trash on TV! I mean, she doesn't even watch the news! I thought about putting it on and watch he news while eating my dinner but then I worried about it distracting her from work.
So, I ate my dinner in silence while Josephine worked with her sharp mind. I didn't mind the silence... I just find it a bit odd.
"You're going to eat that?" Josephine asks me, her sky blue eyes focused on the dessert that looks a little strange to me. After the shower she put on a set of beige silk pyjama shorts and a top with thin straps. The v-neck makes her boobs look even better.
I've put on my usual combination: a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants. I try not to wear all the clothes that she bought for me because I'm still planning to give them to charity one day. I don't need all the clothes but she refuses to listen to me, so I gave up trying to explain it to her. I look to my left and shake my head. I didn't even feel her eyes on me. "No, I already feel pretty stuffed."
"Perfect! I can't say no to a Crème brûlée whenever I see one." She places the MacBook Pro on the coffee table that's in front of us, lifts herself off of the couch before walking into the kitchen and getting out a silver teaspoon from one of the walnut wooden drawers in the white marbled kitchen island.
As I turn around again and look at the laptop, I notice that she wasn't working at all. She was looking at the photos she took in Finland!
There's a photo of the Northern Lights on full screen and it's bloody beautiful! The sky is getting illuminated by breathtaking neon coloured lighting! Before I can lean forward and have a closer look, Josephine walks back to the couch. "Why didn't you tell me you were looking at the photos of last weekend?"
She picks up the small round bowl and puts in the teaspoon. A cracking sound fills the living area as the spoon slices through the caramelised crust of this weird dish. Josephine puts a spoonful into her mouth and shrugs, "I haven't chosen the best ones yet so there was nothing to show or tell you. Most of these photos are not that good. I wanted to sort them out, edit them if necessary and then present them to my family."
Her family. But not me. "What about me?"
She stops her hand with the spoon being halfway into her mouth, "I'm sorry?"
She didn't even think about me, did she?! I fucked her relentlessly in that shower just thirty minutes ago, making her come over and over - but she doesn't think I might want to see these photos?! "What. About. Me." I hiss at her. "Don't I deserve to see these photos as well? Or is this just another secret you want to keep from me?!" I explode.
She puts the bowl and the spoon on the table before twisting her upper body to face me and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Oliver, this is not a secret. I was going to show them-"
"Are you fucking kidding me?! Of course this is a secret! I am your secret!"
Her features stiffen and I know she's clenching her teeth. "Oliver,"
I grit my teeth in anger. She's unbelievable! I thought after three weeks together we would have made some kind of progress but instead we're right at the beginning again. "I wanted more!"
"Is this not more for you?!" She hisses back at me and waves with her hands. "You've met my best friend, an HRH, twice now. We've been to Finland together. What else could you possibly want?" She yells with such a strength that even the windows around us seem to shake.
I bloody love you and I want you to say it back!
"Oliver,"
"I l-" I stop myself from saying the l-word. Because I know it's too soon. It would ruin everything.
Josephine
"You what?" I insist. Whatever is on his mind he needs to say it. Otherwise we'll be continuing to go in circles.
"I wanted more. This is not what I expected."
I place my hand on my left hip, "Maybe we should revisit the arrangement then. Shorten it, perhaps? Set new rules?" I dare him with a raised eyebrow. He knew what he was getting himself into! I warned him!
He shakes his head, "Josephine, just please try to understand that this is not easy for me. I am tired of being your dirty little secret."
I sigh, "You're not my dirty little secret. You've met Char and you know my sister Ana." We even went to a fucking different country together!
"But not your parents or other siblings."
I lick my lips. He wants a relationship. "We are not in a relationship." I remind him. "I am not girlfriend potential. I'm not even dating potential."
He gives me a kind of look that shows pity.
"I am happy just the way things are between us. Why do you want to change them so badly?" I ask him before he can say anything to voice his pity. "Why can't you just be happy with me?" The question has left my lips before I thought it through.
In the blink of an eye he has wrapped his strong arms around me. "I am happy."
"You just said this is not enough for you."
"It is for now." He promises me.
We'll have the same conversation in a few weeks again.
"I like that you call this place home for both of us."
Because that's what it is for the next 13 weeks. "I will not change just to please you, Oliver."
"And I'm not asking for that. In fact, it's the last thing I want you to do. But I am asking you to open up to me."
"I am!"
"No, you're not! Yes, you share things you don't share with strangers but I want more than sex. I need more than that." His dark green eyes stare so deeply into mine that fear starts crawling up my spine.
He thinks he wants to know me. But he has no idea how dark the secrets I have are. Every person has skeletons in their closets but Boltons... Boltons have a whole floor dedicated to their skeletons. It's not that we want to have them, it's just we do. We've inherited the family secrets over generations and this need to build walls in order to protect ourselves.
It's in my blood.
And opening up clearly isn't.
"Oliver, I am not the woman you think I am." I remind him in a soft tone. "I don't like long walks at the beach and candlelight dinners. I don't do romance. I don't date. I don't-"
"Open up to me!" He interrupts me.
"Yes. I don't and won't open up." I confirm. "I enjoy what we have. I really enjoy whatever this is but I need you to know there won't be more. I will never be the woman who sits at home waiting for her man to come home from work. I am not a woman who lunches. I am a woman who works."
"That's why I like you so much. You're unlike every other women I've ever met. It's why I am so amazed and dazzled. Finland was amazing and I can't wait to have many more moments like that... but what I love the most are the times we share on day-to-day basis."
"Day-to-day basis?" I ask him confused. What day-to-day basis?! He's talking like we've established a routine that a married couple would have, but we didn't.
He nods, "Drinking cappuccinos and sharing a newspaper in the morning... showering together or bathing together, having dinner together-"
I place my hands on his shoulders and wince from the electricity that runs through my whole body. "Oliver, you cannot develop any romantic feelings for me."
"Josephine,"
"No, I feel like you have expectations that I will never meet."
"I don't have any expectations."
"Except for getting to know me."
"What's your favourite ice cream flavour?"
"What?" I ask him confused. How is he getting from expectations to ice cream?!
"Your favourite flavour. Come on, you've got to have a favourite ice cream flavour. Everyone does."
"Walnut with a swirl of figs." I answer automatically. I always get that when I'm in Swansea. There's an Italian ice cream shop and they make the most delicious and innovative flavours.
He nods, "Do you want to know mine?"
"Yes."
"Strawberry."
"That's Elias' favourite flavour as well." I answer and smile as I think of my little brother. Gosh, I miss him so badly! I can't wait for him to come home during his summer holidays so we can spend some quality time together.
"Really? What about the rest of your family?"
"Rory's coconut, Della's blueberry, Ana's pistachio, Nate's chocolate, Gideon's mango and Cal's raspberry. My Mum doesn't have one, she always chooses a different one when we make ice cream or get one in Swansea. And Daddy's Bacio, that's chocolate hazelnut ice cream."
Oliver smiles at me. "See? Was this so hard? I'm not asking for forever, Josephine. I am asking for one step at a time."
He has a point. I signed up for more than sex with him. He agreed to sixteen weeks of sex with me and I agreed to allow him to get to know me a bit better. I sigh, "Okay... I guess you're right."
He places his hands on mine and thousands of sparks fill my body. "Allow me to get to know you and you will get to know me too. This arrangement is not a one-way street. It's not just about sex or living under one roof together."
"I know what we've agreed to."
"Then why don't you stick to that? I'm doing my part of the deal several times daily while you don't do anything for days."
"It's not in my blood. It's not in my genes. The walls I've built around me to protect my family are bloody high and I can't tear them down just because you're a bloody God in bed!" I hiss at him before turning on my heel.
He grabs my left wrist and twirls me back until I am in his arms. "Admitting the issue is halfway to the solution. I've signed the NDA. I won't talk. Not because of the paper but because you are too important to me to hurt you or your family in a way. I won't go to the press after this and I won't write a whistle-blowing book. My lips are sealed." He promises me while looking deeply into my eyes. "My lips are sealed."
A funny feeling spreads in my tummy. It feels like thousands of mines blowing up. It's strange. I sigh and nod, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes. I'm going to try to be a bit more open." I give in. "What do you want to know?"
"Your photographs." He breathes out without needing a moment to think.
"13 weeks are not enough for you to look all through them and I won't show you the ones from Finland until I haven't seen them all through myself." I don't present my work to anyone. Especially not the work that could be bullshit. Although the photos of Finland are looking pretty great so far, I just don't feel comfortable in sharing them with anyone. Even if it's Oliver, the one who was with me on the trip.
"Then just show me your best work. Show me what you're proud of."
"But it's not Finland." I tell him.
He nods, "That's okay. Just give me... show me something."
"Fine. I'll be right back."
Oliver
While Josephine is gone, I decide to clean up the coffee table. I can't believe she's really showing me her work! This is so exciting!
I pick up the plates from the coffee table and walk back into the kitchen. I leave them in the sink and put on the water so the dirty dishes can soak a little. I put dish soap into the water and turn off the water as I hear Josephine walking back with a big black folder and a thin USB-stick in her hands.
Her best work.
"Lets sit down." Her voice sounds a bit shaky.
I nod and follow her back to the couch again. We sit down next to each other and there's a moment of silence.
For a second I think she's going to bailout.
"That's my best work." She says as she push the folder along with the stick across the coffee table.
I pick up the stick place it a little further away. We'll look into those later. "Thank you for showing me these."
"You haven't seen them yet. They aren't pretty photos of astonishing landscapes."
She's got me worried. I frown before opening the folder.
The first photo is in black and white. It shows a girl of colour at the age of six maybe, sitting in the corner of a house that's made of clay. She has curly dark hair that's typical for the African population. She has a cleft lip, a bleeding eye and a cut on her right cheek bone. She's wearing a ripped light dress.
This image is like a wrecking ball that's coming out of nowhere. The punch in my stomach is so strong that I can't breathe for a moment.
"Her name is Hope. She has a bunny-lip, labium leporinum. She was born with it but her parents didn't want her as she was constantly sick because of it. At the age of five they left her overnight. But before that her father beat her up, trying to kill her. I took this photo during my first trip to Mali. Rory worked for Doctors Without Borders during her first year as a resident. I visited her on my spring break. It was a trip I will never forget." She explains. "It's one of the photos that the foundation wanted to use to raise awareness for this issue but I didn't... I couldn't give it to them."
I look up from the photo and see how Josephine's sky blue eyes are filling with moisture. I grab her hand and squeeze it softly.
She picks up the photo that has a DIN A3 size and looks at it for a moment. Her lower lip starts trembling so she bites on it to force herself to calm down. Even the glossy photo paper shakes a little. "I've never shown my work to anyone. Not the ones in this folder. So, this is quite hard for me to do."
I can definitely see that. "I won't judge you."
She looks at me. "I don't care if you do that. This is like showing a part of my soul to you. It hurts and it makes me vulnerable."
Josephine has never been this honest with me. Humanitarian work is part of her soul. It's running through her veins. I don't know why she ignores the obvious signs why she should work for the foundation instead of Bolton's Enterprises. It doesn't make sense to me. "I'll be careful." I promise her before looking at the next photo. It shows the ultimate contrast.
Four laughing children that are sitting in a fountain and playing with the water. Three girls and one boy look Mexican. Their clothes are definitely typical for colourful Mexico. They're wearing rainbow coloured ponchos and serapes. Their smiles are addictive.
It's also quite blurry.
"I took that photo near Akumal in Mexico about a month after the coffin fiasco with Rory and George."
I remember the time. Roughly two and a half years ago, when Rory was just George's girlfriend she walked behind the Queen's coffin with him at the state funeral. It caused a serious scandal that featured even death wishes for Rory. The Brits were furious with them and they hid for two months. Rumours had it they were on the Maldives, enjoying themselves in the sun while the monarchy was at serious risk. It was one of the biggest scandals in the Royal history. "I remember. You were on holiday with them?"
"Not during the whole two months but only in the last couple of days as it was my spring break and Boston wasn't so far away from Mexico. Rory and George had spent the last two months working for charities all over the world while waiting for the scandal to calm down. They helped out at schools, built refugee camps, built water tanks, served as doctors wherever they were needed... I think they visited 15 countries or something during that time. All in secret and incognito. People hardly recognised them and if they did, they usually didn't take any photos. Charles had sent them away..."
Wow, I had no idea. They were actually doing charity while they were supposed to stay away from England?!
"I drove through the streets during my holiday and saw these kids playing in the fountain of a hotel. They were clearly there without permission but it was a very hot day and we all craved for some cooling. I wanted to get out and photograph them but Ralph refused to stop the car. So I took this photo straight out of my car. Hence the blur."
"It's lovely."
"Really?"
I look up from the photos and straight into her sky blue eyes. "Yes. It's filled with so much joy. It's a great photo."
She shows me a shy smile, "I'm glad you like it." She grabs the photo out of my hand and places it on top of the black and white photo. Then she picks up the bowl filled with the Crème brûlée and continues eating it in silence.
The next photo is in colour again. It shows a crying girl with hazel eyes and caramel coloured skin at the age of seven maybe. She has dark short hair and her left arm is wrapped around a branch. There are two lines of tears streaming down her face on each side. Behind him is a slightly blurry mess of other children. Girls and boys of all age.
The girl in the front looks traumatised.
The image makes my throat tight.
"Took that one in a refugee camp in Myanmar. Her name is Asmat. Her family left their hometown just a few days ago due to shocking violence happening there."
"How did you get into the refugee camp?" I ask her after a moment of staring at the photo. After meeting her father today, I wouldn't take him as someone who lets his daughter travel to dangerous places.
"Della worked in Myanmar for two weeks. She helped out at the refugee camp. I was there just for three days before I had to fly back to uni in Oxford. No one but her know that I was there."
I look at her. I've seen enough to know how amazing Josephine's work is. She's a true humanitarian. "Have you ever thought about sending them to a committee or something? These are really, really good."
She shakes her head, "No. I don't want fame off of these photos."
"But you could get them printed in magazines or they could get used for the foundation to raise awareness of the help needed. These photos could be on buses driving around London or show up at Piccadilly Circus. You could do a lot of great work with these imagines."
She picks up the folder, places the other two photos insides and closes it. "No. These are for me only. I don't want to make any profit off of them."
"You could send them anonymously." I suggest.
She bites on her lower lip and thinks for a moment, "I don't think so, no."
"Okay... I was just making a suggestion. It's a shame these images are being kept away from the public in this folder."
She places the bowl that's still half full back on the coffee table. "It's my choice."
I nod, "Of course. I'm not pressuring you." I never could.
"How about we look at the photos from Finland together?" Josephine suggests.
"I'd love that."
She picks up her laptop, "I think all that's left to go through are the photos of the husky safari and the snowman building."
"Please tell me you didn't take a photo of my snowman." I beg her with a grin on my lips. That thing looked so embarrassing!
She chuckles, "Maybe... I definitely took some photos of our snowman and the snow angels we made."
She presses a few buttons on the keyboard and the television that's hanging above the white marbled fireplace switches on. A second later a closeup photo of one of the huskies that lead the sleigh we sat in appears. I can see his stunning fluffy fur that is white and grey as well as his big snout and stunning icy blue eyes. I can even see the whiskers!
It's such a stunning photo!
Josephine picks up the bowl with the Crème Brûlée again and continues eating.
"Does this stuff taste good?" I ask her.
She nods. "It's the best. A custard with a caramelised crust. It has a vanilla taste." She picks up another spoonful of Crème Brûlée. "Want some?" She asks, holding up the teaspoon.
She's offering to feed me? "It's not toxic?"
She laughs, "No, I promise."
I eye the yellow mixture before looking back at her. How can I say no to this woman? "Okay."
"Okay." She smiles at me before putting the spoon into my mouth.
It tastes like pudding but more luxurious and more... more real. There are definitely no additives or conservatives in this dessert. Probably because it's all handmade. The caramelised crust is crunchy and the custard is soft underneath. There's also a bit of salt in there to bring out the sweetness more. It's bloody good!
"And? Do you like it?" She asks me with her sky blue eyes scanning my face for any movement.
"It's good."
"Duh, of course it's good!" She rolls her eyes before putting the spoon back into the bowl that's nearly empty. "But I'm not feeding you any more. But if you want more I can call downstairs and ask them to make two more."
"Does that mean you want more as well?"
She shrugs, "Crème Brûlée and Sonhos are my guilty pleasures."
Both dishes are made with vanilla cream. I guess that's the connection. "I'm surprised your favourite ice cream flavour is not vanilla."
"That would be too ordinary, wouldn't it?" She asks with a grin on her lips.
And if there's one thing about Josephine that I know by now, it's that she's anything but ordinary.
Josephine
I laugh out loud as a photo of Oliver's snowman fills the television. It looks like... I can't even describe it properly. There is no real body to the snow man. It's not round and smooth, instead it's square shaped but with bulges and bobbles. It's also tiny compared to the one I made and Oliver decorated afterwards.
"I thought you didn't take a photo!" Oliver protests.
"I can erase it if you want." I offer before placing my empty Crème Brûlée bowl on top of his empty one. After all this sugar I'm quite on a high but it's worth it. I can't believe Oliver never had that classic French dessert. It makes me wonder what else he didn't tasted in his life. Maybe I should place an order for the restaurant downstairs and ask for a collection of classic French, German, Spanish and Belgian food as a start. Then we could eat us through the whole world - while sitting on the couch and looking at photos together.
I like this. It's a lot of fun. We've shared some good laughs together.
The photo changes to a closeup of us that I took after our snow fight. We're wearing our cashmere black beanies. Our cheeks are rosy from the icy weather but our eyes are sparkling even more than the white teeth that we're revealing with our big smiles. My chestnut waves are filled with snow as it started to snow when I took this photo. It was icy cold but we were happy. We had lots of fun in the snow.
It's a nice photo.
"I like this photo." Oliver says with a nod.
I grab his large left hand, "I like it as well."
He looks at me, probably feeling the same electric shock as me.
"You're not my dirty little secret." I promise him. "This might not be what you expected it to be but the same goes for me." I remind him and squeeze his hand tightly.
We're both on new territory here.
He places a kiss on the back of my hand that somehow awakes my whole body. "Thank you for showing me those photos and telling me your favourite ice cream flavour."
I chuckle, "That wasn't as hard as I thought." I think out loud. I was raised to walk around with open ears and wide eyes. Given my family and the extreme interest in us, I was taught being very cautious with what I say and what I do because it could end up on the cover of some tabloid the next day or on a blogpost just a few minutes later. People are just obsessed with us and love to talk about us.
Oliver brushes through my hair with his right hand and I can feel how my scalp tingles from the touch. Then he runs his thumb over the right side of my face, carefully fondling my face all while his sea foam coloured eyes stare into mine. My mouth dries out and I swear my toes curl from the touch. "Thank you for opening up to me."
The way his voice rings in my ears makes my heart stop beating for a second. A warm feeling starts spreading in my chest. It makes me feel calm and comforted, peaceful and desired like never before. It doesn't scare me anymore like it did in the beginning when we touched because I'm slowly getting used to this mixture of emotions that he's making me feel every time he looks at me like that or touches me.
Before I know what I'm doing, I'm already kissing him. A second later I'm straddling him and I'm not surprised to find his erected cock pulsing against mine throbbing pussy. Our tongues start dancing and I can feel his large right hand on my back, slowly gliding down the silk fabric of my top. It only intensifies these crazy feelings within me. Kissing him makes me forget everything and anything around me. It makes me dizzy but in a very good way.
I unlace my left hand from his and quickly pull his black shirt over his head. The need to have him overcomes me so quickly that I suddenly can't get him naked quick enough. My hand start fiddling with the bow on his grey sweatpants because it somehow doesn't open! I start pulling harder on the strings but the bloody bow won't open!
Oliver places his hands on mine and lets go of my lips. "Josephine, slow down. I'm not going anywhere."
I look up from his hands on mine. "What?"
"I said slow down. There's no need to rush."
"No, the other part."
He gives me a slightly puzzled look before taking his hands off of mine and placing them on each side of my face. The way his sea foam eyes stare into mine gives me a feeling I can't put into words. It's different than from all the other emotions I've felt before and therefore scary but it's not... it's not dangerous. It's just new.
"I won't leave you."
His promise touches me to the quick. Something within me happens and it feels like a tsunami slowly building on the horizon. As time goes on, the waves grow bigger and bigger.
"I won't leave you, Josephine." He repeats his promise.
His hot breath clashes against my face but I hardly pay attention to it. Instead I am sitting there totally paralysed by whatever is happening inside of me. My ears are blending out any noise around him and I. I don't know if I like this.
This feels like I'm waiting for a volcano eruption.
"I won't leav-"
I shut him up by sealing my lips over his. I expect the volcano to erupt but it doesn't. Neither does this tsunami come over me. Nothing abnormal happens. It's a breathtaking kiss, but kissing Oliver is always breathtaking. I wrap my fingers around his wrists and notice that his pulse is humming in the same rhythm as mine. It's like we're slowly synchronising our bodies.
He lets go of my lips and starts planting kisses on my neck. My toes curl from the touch and my fingertips tingle. I let go of his wrists and get out of my beige silk top. I want to feel him skin on skin as much as possible. I need this. I need...
I need to feel him.
I arch my back and press my chest against his. His skin is even warmer than mine. "Take me to the bedroom." I breathe into his right ear.
His cock throbs from my words.
I can't help but grin. "And this time I will rip this bloody bow open."
His laughter is one of the best sounds I've ever heard. It's like making an angry lion laugh. It reminds me of the way my father laughs around my mother.
"Hold tight." He says just a second before lifting himself and me from the couch. I squeeze my thighs against his hips as he walks from the living area to the bedroom. The sun has set hours ago, so my hometown is proudly glittering underneath. I love the 360 degree view that I have of my favourite town in the world. London's just too beautiful to have a wall block it's beauty.
Oliver turns left before walking down the hallway that leads to my bedroom. I can feel how every lean muscle of his body works to support his movements. I wrap my arms around his torso and rest my chin on his right shoulder. His smell fills my nostrils. It's suddenly different from before. He no longer smells of safety and cosy nights in front of the fireplace. He smells of peace, loyalty, trust and a whiff of lavender mixed with his masculine scent.
He stops in front of my bed and places me on the soft mattress. I quickly get out of my shorts and panties while he fiddles with the bow of his sweatpants. He seems as helpless as me.
"I'm going to dry out waiting for you."
He chuckles as he starts pulling on the strings even harder. "Did you knot that up somehow?"
"Hey, did you put them on and tie that bow or was that me?" I challenge him.
"No, that was me... Oh, fuck it!" With that he rips the strings apart with ease before striping off his sweatpants and boxer briefs.
I chuckle as I slide back on the bed, "Who's in a rush now?"
He mirrors my grin as he climbs on top of me like the lion circling in his prey. Except I don't feel like a prey, I feel like a lion myself. It's that balanced trail of strength that I haven't had with anyone before him.
Maybe that's why the sex is so incredible each time. It feeds me in a way I can't explain.
His lips start walking wild on my skin. Tiny explosions erupt within me every time his lips touch my skin. My toes curls from the touch on my inner thighs, my hips, my belly, my waist, my breasts, my neck... my lips.
This. Is. Freedom.
Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!
Is Jo finally opening up to Oliver? Why does she keep thinking of Edward Rothschild? Is she going to be able to give Oliver more or are his expectations too high?
I haven't written the next chapter yet so it might take me a while to upload again.
As always please review and tell me what your favourite scene and/or quote is! I love reading all of your reactions and how some are on team Oliver while others are on team Edward.
Personally, I love them both so we'll see with whom she's going to end up. I do have a rough plan structured out and a few written scenes...
Have a great day!
In gratitude,
Nicole