Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,134

the rock hard bulge in his super-sexy tux trousers.

He’s laughing more. ‘Feel free to check that out for as long as you want – as you can probably tell, that’s an extra-large yes please from me too.’

He isn’t wrong there. After quite a long time, I have to agree. ‘It totally is.’

‘So would you like fast and rough on the beach … or slow and smooth in the king size bed with champagne … standing in the shower … or something else entirely?’

To be honest, after months of anticipation, I’m likely to pop in about two seconds whatever we do. ‘Maybe there’s too much sand and water around here … and as Immie’s stuffed our en suite full of condoms …’

‘It’s official. Whatever Immie did in the past, this overrides all of it.’ He sweeps me into a hug. ‘Team St Aidan look out for you all the way, don’t they?’

I’m laughing. ‘Absolutely.’ That might have been Phoebe talking, but I don’t even care. ‘It would be a shame to waste them.’

His arms are wrapped tightly around me. ‘Will you be walking upstairs this time, or would you like me to carry you?’

It’s so easy because we know each other so well. ‘Why not surprise me?’

‘Shall we have a few more salty kisses before we go?’

If he’d asked me to walk on my hands to St Aidan I’d have agreed. And I can’t even do handstands – that’s how much I want this. For now I’m not even thinking that he’s leaving; because if he wasn’t we wouldn’t even be here. I’m simply thinking of this as a gift to go with the whole wonderful day. One night I’ll hold in my heart that will get me through. That will have to last me the rest of my life.

This time my sexy body slide goes like a dream. And a moment later, my mouth is buried in his, and as I wriggle inside his shirt with him I’m already spinning, and counting the rainbows.

Chapter 37

Friday.

Our bedroom at Cockle Shell Castle.

Bed heads and block heads.

When I wake next morning it’s to the patter of soft rain. There’s pale light seeping through the muslin curtains and my aching brain tells me three things: I’ve had approximately one hour of sleep; when I finally get up, I’m going to need the strongest coffee known to mankind; and it’s going to need to work miracles. But with any luck that won’t be any time soon. I’m guessing that rolling down to the kitchen for breakfast at nine would be completely respectable. We could maybe even push it for brunch at eleven. Another four hours then. I can’t help a sleepy, self-satisfied smile at that as I stretch my hand to touch the linen-covered headboard.

As for my body, it’s in a blurry and very unfamiliar state of feeling satiated, euphoric, super-relaxed, but also like I’ve done Joe Wicks’ biggest workout twice. Not that I ever do those, but seriously, they’re exhausting even to watch. But in spite of me having the kind of supreme inner glow you’d usually only get from eating four large tubs of Haagen Dazs back to back, there’s a desperate undertone crying out for more of what made me feel like that. Maybe this is what it’s like for sex addicts. If this was any more than a one-off, I can see I might have to go into recovery.

I’m mumbling to Nic as I turn over to him. ‘Can you actually get addicted to sex after only one night?’ Not that we’ve done much talking up to now. Mostly we were just lying in ecstatic silence, soaking up that it was actually happening. Getting our breath back before we started all over again for another wonderful round. When Poppy said cross the bridge, I’m not sure she meant me to go over it four times and then some.

As I flop over and extend my arm into the space on the pillow where Nic’s tousled hair should be, I let out a shout as my hand lands on some very soft, silky ears instead.

‘Merwyn?’ His nose finds my hand and he gives my finger a little lick. ‘Why aren’t you on your bed?’

And as I run my palm across the pillow and my fingers close around an envelope my heart freezes. Then my body goes rigid.

I’d leap out of bed and search the bathroom, but there’s no need. Because I’m staring at my name in Nic’s regular handwriting on the front of