Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (34 page)

I
really
want to touch his leg. Like
really
want to touch his leg! But Alexia is right there - she’d see, without a doubt, damn it. I reach for my phone and type another message for him.

~

15AUG 17:17

How can we be alone tonight? I want to be naked with you SOOOO BAAAAADLY. It’s so difficult sitting at the table with you while you’re eyeing me up like that and not being able to do anything about it.
xx

~

I stand and excuse myself to head to the ladies again. I think I should stop drinking now or I’ll be peeing like a race horse later.
Oh gosh, I am drunk.

When I return, Oliver is standing up and I frown. “What’s going on?” I ask, “Are we going already?”

“Oh. no…” Bea starts, “I just got a text from Jessica, she said the pipe under the sink was leaking when she left so Oliver’s going down to check on it now so we know it’s alright overnight. Do you fancy going with him to open up and do the alarm? Or shall I?”

Bonus! Thank you, Universe!

“Oh, I don’t mine going, I think I’ve had enough, to be honest - I’m feeling a bit squiffy.”

Bea smirks slightly, confusing me before responding. “Oh great, thanks doll. I thought you might be a little on the tipsy side…”

Why? Do I look drunk or something?
“Oh, okay. No worries.”

“I’ll be back when I’ve sorted it to pick you up, okay?” Oliver says.

“We can make our own way back, Ols.”

“No, I’m taking Clare back so I may as well come back and get you - it’s only down the road. See you in a bit.”

“Okay, thanks, love you two!” she says as I wave and follow Oliver out of the door.

As we walk across the car park, he looks at me with a cheeky grin and wiggles his eyebrows. “Result!”

“I know! How is that for timing?”

“Timing?” he asks.

“Yeah - my last text about finding a way to be alone…”

“Um…” he says, stopping to check his phone, “no… haven’t got that yet.”

“What?” I ask, suddenly feeling a bit panicked. I climb into his car and search in my bag for my phone and I hear it chime as Oliver pulls away and onto the road.

When I finally get hold of it, my heart races at the notification of a new text from Bea.

~

Bumble Bea 15AUG 17:28

I’m sorry, baby, I just can’t help it - you know how I react when you flutter those long lashes at me. I’ll find a way for us to be alone, I just can’t wait to have a girl on girl naked moment with you, you DIRTY, SEXY BEAST! LOL, there’s no leak but have fun at the Cakery anyway, don’t do anything I haven’t already done there ‘out of hours’ :-/. Enjoy the ‘burst pipe’… bleugh, I can’t believe I just said that referring to my own brother… oh god - get me another drink! (ps… anti-bac EVERYTHING you disgusting animals) xxxx

~

I gasp loudly and slap my hand over my mouth.

“What? What’s the matter?” Oliver asks, worried.

“I sent it to Bea…” I whisper, looking at his face in horror.

“What
?!” he cries, “How? What did it say?”

“She was below you on my recent messages list… I must have pressed her name and not
realised… Oh god, Oh… um… shit I can’t remember what it said…” I say in a flap.

“”Darling, calm down - just scroll up on the conversation…”

“Oh.” I scroll back up, looking at the message I sent. “Oh phew - it’s okay, I didn’t say anything about us being ‘us’ but it is still
so, super
embarrassing.”

I read the text out to him, followed by Bea’s response, and he laughs his head off. “It’s okay, darling. She just thinks you’re drunk and we’re going to have a sex session. She doesn’t know. It was nice of her to send us off for some…
eur. I don’t want to think about my sister knowing I’m… eur.”

Now it’s my chance to giggle. “So… that means there’s no burst pipe?”

“Not except the one I’m going to have…”

“So… as we’re right here,” I say, as we drive along the road that leads to his, “why don’t we just go to yours quickly?”

“Done.”

So of course, we’re pulling onto his driveway in no time and rushing into the house. My clothes are off before I even leave the hallway and as he rapidly rips his own off; he walks me into the lounge until I fall backwards onto his sofa, Oliver following me down with only his underpants on.

“Oh my god, Oliver, I’m so horny…”

“Shh…” he says, climbing on top of me and harshly, divinely pressing his lips against mine. His tongue moves fervently, and I lap it up, rippling mine with it, brushing his lips occasionally.

I slide my hands down his sides to his pants as my bare feet travel up his legs to his thighs. Pushing his pants down, I take care not to catch them on his erection and I help them further with my feet so he’s on top of me on the sofa, totally naked.
Oh god
, I love it.

He pulls back from the kiss to gaze at my face and uses his fingers to brush the hair away from my eyes. He smiles gorgeously, his eyes fixed on mine. “I love you so much,” he whispers, “you are my everything.”

I smile, shyly before putting both of my hands around the sides and back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere, Oliver. Love me like that, forever.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, I think someone up there ensured that was going to happen long before we even got together.”

“Well, whoever that was arranged it for my benefit and I’ll never be able to thank them enough,” I pull myself up to his level by his neck to kiss his lips. “So… are you going to make love to me now, handsome?”

“I sure am, sugar
lips…” he says with a beautiful smile as he resumes the kiss of a moment ago.

I tighten my legs around his back, effectively pulling his body down and crushing it with mine, clearly arousing him if the loud, animalistic growl is anything to go by. Slipping my hand between us, I find his hard length and press the tip right where it needs to be, quivering with anticipation as I do; I need this. Badly.

He indulgently licks my upper lip, sensually, before smirking slightly at my pained, impatient expression. His smirk quickly advances to that revelling frown as he flexes his hips, slowly pushing inside me. I cry out loudly, loving that I can - which almost spurs me on even more; I want to fuck and make noise, I want to fuck without caring who might hear, I want to fuck my husband in
our
house, in
our
lounge, on
our
couch and scream and shout at the top of my lungs!

He continues to flex those hips rhythmically and smoothly, watching my face to ensure he focuses on the parts that make me moan and whimper. I could just lie here doing absolutely nothing and he would make sure, without a
doubt, that I came. But even if I wanted to do that - I couldn’t. He excites me like no one ever could, I need to practically crawl up his body, clawing and squeezing in uncontrollable enthusiasm. My legs currently hooked behind his back, squeezing his waist as his hips grind into me, pushing his impressive girth deeper.

“Fuck, Oliver, you know it’s going to happen…”

“Yeah, let it, baby. I want to watch you,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Uh huh, okay… uh huh…” I cry, the deep, taunting ache evolving into a sharp, excruciatingly satisfying explosion inside. “Fuck, yes!” I shout, writhing underneath him,
savouring this feeling of utter indulgence. Maybe I shouldn’t consider an orgasm with my husband an indulgence, but I do because I feel so incredibly lucky to even be in this position with him. He’s loving me, he’s chosen to love me more than anyone else, forever.

He follows promptly, with a desperate groan, crying out some incoherent mumbo jumbo about loving my body and skin and soul and all that… I should probably listen a bit closer to try to figure it out, but I can pretty much get the idea; he loves me loads and the orgasms he has with me.
Ideal, really.

We lay together on the sofa for a while, silent and sated, his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me closely against him.

“We should get back,” he whispers after a while.

“Yeah… don’t
wanna…”

“Me neither. I bet Bea and Alexia will be pissed as farts by now, they already were, really.”

I giggle, “Yeah, we were a bit, you’ve sobered me up a touch.”

“How’d I do that?” he asks, rhetorically.

“Mmm… in the best way,
ever
.”

“Glad to be of service.”

“Glad to have you at my service… every day.”

“Forever.”

“Yep,” I say, taking one of his hands in mine and squeezing it, bringing them up to my mouth. “I promise I won’t get drunk every day, though.”

“I know you won’t, you wouldn’t want blurry vision when looking at such a specimen of male perfection. And… you’ll be housing
un petit bébé soon.”

I grin and wriggle against him in excitement, clutching his hand. “Oh, I so can’t wait. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Absolutely. In fact… when you’re done with your girly ‘stuff’,” he says, avoiding any words that might sound too graphic; it’s funny how men don’t like to say ‘period’, “we could start trying straight away? What do you think?”

I turn speedily to face him and grab his face in my hands. “Really? Can we really?” I cry, almost
a beg and he chuckles.

“Of course we can. Can’t wait for baby Hart to come into the equation.”

“Oh, Oliver, thank you! I can’t wait either! So we shall tell everyone next week then? For sure?”

“Yep. Let’s do it. We’ll invite the folks over for dinner and tell them first - yours too… and then we’ll tell Bea and then Tils and everyone else after.”

“Oh, Oliver. I know I’m nervous and everything, but actually having this plan to do it… it’s so exciting. I love you so much!”

“I know. And I, you.”

~~~~~~~

We get ourselves dressed leisurely before
savouring each other with a long, tight embrace, and leaving for the pub again. It’ll be embarrassing to see Bea, knowing that she knows and orchestrated this little ‘meeting’, but I can cope with that - it meant I got some precious time with my Oliver. If only she knew exactly
how
appreciative I am… she just thinks it’s about sex.

When we get back, Bea invites us back to hers, Daniel will be back soon and they’re going to get a take-away, so she thought we could continue the fun into the evening to include Bea’s wonderful fiancé…
Alexia’s lovely brother. We accept, liking the idea of spending some more quality time with our friends. Oliver also enjoys Alexia’s company, and we haven’t seen Bea and Daniel for a couple of weeks so it’ll be nice to catch up some more.

Oliver happily drives us all back to Watford and we enjoy a very late, very fun night in. Oliver is persuaded by all to leave his car and have a couple of beers with Daniel, which of course, he thoroughly enjoyed. They’re like a pair of kids when they’re together - just as they are with Luke. It’s actually really fun to watch how these men
interact, they’re just like a bunch of girls, talking non-stop about anything and everything. It’s cute, and Bea feels exactly the same - I can tell by the undeniable appreciation and affection in her eyes as she gazes at Daniel when he’s pre-occupied with his friends, like she can’t quite believe her luck. I know the feeling, her brother does exactly the same thing to me.

Alexia and I decide to leave in the early hours, and our perfect gentleman, Oliver, offers to walk us home to ensure we’re safe. Bea and Daniel look like they’re about to get it on so with a rather digested look on his face, Oliver tells them he’ll crash on my sofa, rather than coming back to have to interrupt something gross. I’m silently praying that we can sneak some time in, together, after Alexia falls asleep.

The moment we fall through the door, we say our goodnights; Alexia has looked half asleep for the entire duration of the walk home and I know I’m feeling it. As she stumbles into her room, uncharacteristically inelegantly, Oliver immediately walks us into my room and closes the door. When I question him about Alexia waking or needing something, he simply shrugs and says, “Who cares? So I don’t like your sofa… we’re supposed to be best friends, we can share a bed. Besides, she knows we’ve done stuff before…”

“Maybe…”

“She saw the kiss at the fountains… she knows we’ve been intimate. Relax, baby…” And it’s his nonchalance combined with my exhaustion that allows me to ignore the paranoia and ‘what ifs’, to stumble into bed alongside my ‘everything’

He spoons me and holds me firmly against him, mumbling sleepily about loving
me and my perfect skin. He takes my left hand in his and rubs my ring finger, right where the ring would usually sit, and eventually falls asleep, clutching it in his fingers.

Even when I wake occasionally, overheated or thirsty, he is still clutching my finger like that, making sure it doesn’t forget that something belongs there.
Adorable, cute and such an Oliver thing to do. Oh how I love this man.