 Photo by Jochen van Wylick on Unsplash  LAYLA
“Porta qui i tuoi fichi!” The booming voice of the fruit merchant rings out as I laugh, pressing my hat firmly on my head, my hand gripping Ryan’s as we weave through the busy marketplace. Our honeymoon in the Seychelles was magical, but this is our first proper holiday since then. It’s been a busy year at the office since our wedding. Well, a busy seven months. Ryan planned this trip and sprung it on me. I was never going to say no. Four weeks in Italy? Yes, please. Tim and Angie came to Tuscany for their honeymoon. They bought a villa, and we’re staying in it. I love it. Italy is magical. Now I know why Angie says that if Tim could live anywhere, it would be Tuscany. They plan on coming back every year, and William can even say a few words in Italian. “I want to buy figs!” I call to Ryan, but he shakes his head, still dragging me through the crowd. “Later! I want to show you something first!” Okay, but we’re definitely coming back for those figs, they look mouth-watering, and ever since I first glimpsed them when we arrived at this marketplace, I’ve been craving them. The sky is bright blue, and the sun beats down on us as we make our way through the thronging crowds. Italian is being shouted all around us, and it’s sensory overload. I’m relieved when we walk into a small café. The sound drops away almost immediately, replaced by the lower, quieter buzz of smaller conversations. Ryan steers me across the flagged stone floor, seating me at a vacant table by the window. He calls something out to the waiter, dropping into the chair across from me and plucking up my hand as he grins. “You wanted to show me the view?” I guess, tipping my head toward the window. It’s pretty spectacular. The café looks over the top of the ancient wall that runs around the city, down over the green trees and fields spread out below. “That and the menu.” My eyebrows shoot up. It’s ten o’clock in the morning. He can’t have ordered wine. Surely. Besides, we only arrived last night. One glass, and we’d be out cold. Well, he would be. The waiter arrives, placing two small cups in front of us. The aroma of coffee teases my nostrils, not smelling as unpleasant as it usually does. “Coffee?” “Espresso,” Ryan corrects before the waiter can have a heart attack. The man leaves us with a flourish, and I eye the small cup with trepidation. “It’s not iced.” “No. Nor is it sugary, cinnamony, or any other ‘ie’.” I make a face at his judgmental tone. Maybe if he tried iced coffee, he’d realize it is superior and give up this fruitless exercise. I fix Ryan with a disbelieving look. “You brought me all the way to this café to show me coffee? We could have stopped and bought those figs.” Ryan grins, plucking up his tiny cup. “Oh, babe. I brought you all the way to Italy to introduce you to real coffee.” Wow, that’s rude and also dedicated. I’d expect nothing less from my husband. Well, there’s nothing for it. With a sigh, I pick up my cup, tapping it against his and sniffing the liquid. Again, not as gross as it usually smells. With a grimace, I sip. It is taking everything I have not to hold my nose as I do. I blink in surprise as the coffee warms down my throat. Hey, that’s not bad. Ryan grins at the look of surprise on my face. “Not as bad as you thought it would be?” “No. But that’s probably because it’s a million times better than the swill back home.” “Duh, that’s why I brought you here before I got you to try it.” “Fine, but I’m only having one.” “I’ll take what I can get.” Laughing, I sip my coffee, letting Ryan trace circles on my palm with his thumb. After this, we are getting those figs and stopping back at the villa to eat them on the balcony. Maybe Ryan can rub my feet. That’s my idea of heaven. I only have to battle my way through the hell that is this coffee first. My eyes catch Ryan’s twinkling blue ones. Ah, who am I kidding? I’d walk through hell every day to be with him. Totally worth it. RYAN Layla clutches her bag of figs to her chest like it’s an Olympic gold medal. She sure has fixated on them. I lead her through the villa to the balcony I found her on this morning, looking out over the vineyards as she sipped cold water. She looks fantastic as she sinks into the same seat, removing her straw fedora and flinging it back through the open door. Tuscany agrees with Layla. She’s practically glowing. Dropping into the other chair, I laugh as Layla’s foot lands in my lap, a sure-fire way of her asking for a foot rub without even opening her mouth. Slipping off her sandal, I work the ball of her foot with my thumbs as she eagerly bites into a fig. “Is it as good as you were imagining?” I tease. Layla doesn’t take the bait, tipping her head back, her eyes closed as she savors her fruit. “Better.” Well, I suppose that’s a good thing. “Better than your coffee?” “Oh my stars, so much better. There isn’t even a comparison.” Well, that’s just rude. “Come on. The coffee wasn’t that bad. You didn’t even turn your nose up at it.” “It wasn’t that bad,” she agrees grudgingly. “It’s just not something I plan on drinking every day, even in Italy.” “Not even a small cup?” Tipping her head forward, Layla smiles at me, her head tilting to the side. I know that look. She’s planning something. “And exactly how much coffee a day is a pregnant woman allowed to drink?” Wh-what? My tongue has swollen in my dry mouth as I stare at her, my lips moving and absolutely no sound coming out. Layla watches me mimic a guppy with amusement, taking another bite of her fig. “You’re pregnant?” I manage to splutter out, my brain still not fully computing. Slowly, Layla nods, shrugging and giving a little grimace. “Sorry. Not much wine and coffee for me on this trip. A bit of a waste, really.” I drop her foot, surging out of my seat to scoop her up and carry her inside. Layla shrieks, laughing as I set her down on the bed with infinite care. “I’m pregnant, not breakable,” she scolds me. “And I’m only, like, just pregnant. Like nine weeks.” Shaking my head in disbelief, I tug her striped linen maxi dress up, exposing her slightly rounded stomach. It’s barely different from normal. No wonder I didn’t notice anything. I pepper her stomach with kisses as Layla squeals with laughter, trying to shove my head away. “What are you doing?” “Kissing my wife and baby.” “You’re such a sap.” “Yeah, but I’m your sap, and you wouldn’t want me any other way.” Layla holds my gaze, rolling her eyes, though her giggles somewhat ruin the gesture. “That’s very true.” Lowering my face to her stomach again, I press another kiss right below her belly button. “This is the best vacation of my life.” Layla grins, but it’s a little absent. Oh, right, she’s here in Tuscany, in the middle of a working vineyard, and she can’t drink any wine. Maybe it’s not the best vacation of her life. I grin back at her, waggling my eyebrows. “I’ll bring you back next year so you can enjoy it too.” Well, when I make that promise, she reaches for me eagerly. I chuckle as I slide up her body, my lips tickling her ear. “Are you going to be a good girl?” “You know I am.” The End.  Photo by Ryan Spencer on Unsplash  BEAUMONT
My eyes drink in the sight of my gorgeous wife picking her way across the polished deck. A gust of wind blows her flimsy wrap up, exposing miles of tanned, shapely legs that have my mouth dry. She ignores the flapping wrap, laughing as she grabs at her oversized sunhat. She drops onto the sun lounger beside me, stretching out and reaching eagerly for the fruity cocktail that has recently been delivered. “How is Granny?” I ask. Nic glances over at me, dropping her oversized sunglasses down her nose so we are locking eyes. “She asked if I was pregnant yet,” Nic deadpans. I choke on my cocktail, earning a mischievous laugh from my wife. “We’ve been here for two days!” “Hey! The woman managed to get a marriage promise out of you after a few hours. I think she’s trying to plant the seed of suggestion.” My eyes drop to those gorgeous legs again. “I don’t mind the trying.” Laughing, Nic rolls her eyes, reaching for her cocktail. “You just like the idea of me not working in a school anymore.” I grin, tapping my glass against the side of hers, holding my tongue. Nic is still teaching Kindergarten at Bay Area Elementary, but she’s right. I would prefer her not to work in a school. I can’t go through that shit again, and I don’t want her to have to live through it. One lockdown and bomb scare was more than enough for my heart. Nic purses her lips, lowering her glasses to study me. “And what would you have me doing, instead of teaching?” I shrug, sipping my drink. “Come work for Haven Publishing.” “And do what?” “Whatever you want. Head up our cozy mysteries staff. Start a charity arm organizing events to give free books to kids and do library readings.” I’m throwing out options off the top of my head, but I can see that last one intrigues her, so lean into it. “We could work out an annual budget for you. You’d still get to help kids, but you’d get to work with me every day. It’s the best of both worlds.” “Maybe….” Nic sounds pensive, sliding her glasses back on and turning her eyes to the stunning blue Aegean Sea. I let her sit and think. Soaking up the sun’s rays, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I have no idea how I got so lucky, but I’m glad I did. This is the life. Greece, cocktails, sun, sea… Nic. I can’t think of anything better. Well… my eyes slide over her legs again, and I picture them wrapped around my head as she writhes on the king-sized bed in our spacious bedroom here on the yacht, I can think of one thing better. Maybe when she’s finished her cocktail, I’ll suggest it. NICOLA Tracing slow circles on Beau’s chest, the white sheets settled over our lower halves, I sigh with contentment. The man sure knows how to use his tongue. “What are you thinking about?” Beau’s voice rumbles above my head as his hand comes up, his fingers closing around mine, stopping the circles. I lift my head, propping my chin on his pec as I look up at him. “Were you serious about the Haven Publishing charity arm thing?” Beau would be within his rights to grin and crow – after all, me not working in a school is exactly what he wants – but he doesn’t, looking thoughtful and nodding. “I was serious. I think you’d be amazing at it, and it would be a fantastic promotion for Haven Publishing, while still helping kids and libraries.” “And you think your uncle would back you to the board to find the funds for it?” Again, Beau looks thoughtful. “I think if we drafted up an amazing proposal, he would eat it up.” “And it wouldn’t be too hard on the budget?” Beau snorts, rolling his eyes as he toys with my wedding and engagement rings. “Babe, the profit margin for Haven Publishing is obscene. It wouldn’t even make a dent.” Well, when he puts it that way…. “I think I like the idea.” Beau’s grin flashes across his face as he rolls on top of me, his thighs nudging mine apart. “I more than like it,” he breathes, kissing his way down my neck, his lips closing around one of my nipples as his cock slips inside me, moving slowly. My fingers thread through his hair, my mouth falling open on a sigh as my head tips back. “You’d be in the office almost every day. I think I’ll get them to make some structural alterations. I want you next door to me, with an adjoining door. Then, I could do this all day, every day, whenever I felt like it.” I moan, sliding my legs up the outside of his. Okay, I’ve never really thought about having sex at work – mainly because I have always worked in schools, with kids – but now I’m thinking about it, it seems like a fantastic idea. Lifting my hips lazily in time with Beau’s slow thrusts, I cling to him, sighing as my nipple slips from his mouth, but mewling when he shows the other one some love. “I could definitely get on board with that,” I gasp. The yacht rocks gently on the waves as I lose myself to the sensations of Beau’s mouth, fingers, and cock. A honeymoon sailing around the Aegean Sea, a possible new job, and Beau all day, every day? Moving into his house in Seattle is the best thing I ever did. I come with a gasp, slumping back on the bed as Beau lifts his head, grinning at me. “Let’s see if we can get two more orgasms out of you before dinner.” I giggle, cutting off into a moan as Beau lowers his head again, still thrusting, his teeth nipping at my tender flesh. Two more orgasms sound good. The perfect way to prepare for dinner out on the deck, looking over the water and back at the stunning view of Santorini. Beau’s fingers find my clit, and I’m not thinking of dinner, or work plans, or anything, I’m too busy losing myself in my gorgeous husband. How did I get so lucky? The End.  Photo by Steven Van Elk on Unsplash  MAXWELL
The cheers follow us out of the room, but all I can hear is Sam’s low, throaty voice, tinged with excitement. “Uh, where are we going? It’s not time to leave yet.” “We’ll go back.” Not for a while, and maybe not looking the same, but… eventually. Sam giggles as I drag her into the elevator. There is another couple in there, who share a knowing glance and slip out. Sam’s face flames and she calls after them, “You don’t need to leave, really!” “Enjoy yourselves!” the woman calls back, while the man lets out a piercing wolf whistle. Sam’s cheeks are cherry red, but I share a wink with the guy as the doors close between us. Finally, a moment alone. I tug Sam into my arms, lowering my head to tease her lips with my tongue. As much as I’d love nothing more than to get on my knees and get my head under her floaty dress, these things have cameras, and I have no intention of giving anyone a story to sell to the press. A ding alerts us to the fact that we’ve reached the top floor. I reluctantly lift my head, scooping Sam up and carrying her out of the elevator, in search of the honeymoon penthouse suite. It’s where both Timmy and David spent their wedding nights – and they’ve both happily knocked up their wives, so it’s clearly a good luck charm. Shrieking as her feet leave the ground, Sam clings to my shoulders, wrapping her arms around my neck. “What the hell are you doing? You’re crazy.” “Carrying my wife over the threshold.” Isn’t it obvious? Sam pouts, frowning at me. “You said we’d go back down.” “We will. But it doesn’t count if I carry you over the threshold the second time.” She rolls her eyes, but obviously sees sense, because she falls silent, craning her neck to see when I manage to extract the keycard from my pocket. Sam watches me fumble a few times before giggling. “Give it here, genius.” I poke my tongue out at her, but surrender the keycard, holding her tightly as she unlocks the door, and I shove it open with my shoulder and hip. “Ohh, fancy.” Sam’s eyes are wide as I carry her inside. They’ve done a rose petal trail to the bed, which is also covered in red rose petals, with candles lit around the room, and a bottle of champagne chilling. Hmm, maybe we won’t be going back downstairs. Hell, we could FaceTime to say goodbye to everyone, surely. I set Sam down, waggling my eyebrows expectantly. She arches a brow at me. “What?” “I would like to see my surprise under your dress, please.” Giggling again, Sam rolls her eyes, turning as she holds her hair out of the way, exposing the back of her dress. “You’ll need to unzip me.” I don’t need to be told twice, hurrying across the room to her, my lips tease her bare shoulder blades as I unzip the dress, holding it as Sam steps out of it. My breath catches as she slowly turns around, the flickering candlelight caressing her like a glorious bath. My tongue darts out to wet my now dry lips. Fuck me. Getting married is amazing. I highly recommend it. We should do it every month. Sam smolders at me, standing in nothing but a blush pink strapless corset that matches the color of her dress. My gaze trails down, my mouth drying up again. The corset flows into barely there, see-through lace panties, offering a tempting glance of her bare pussy, and matching garter belt holding up her stockings, her long, slender legs finishing in strappy stilettos. I’ve died and gone to heaven. Officially. “You’re the most stunning person in the fucking world, babe,” I breathe. Sam smiles, her eyes hooded as she strikes a pose. “Can I put my dress back on and we go back downstairs to our guests now?” What? No! My eyes tear away from her tantalizing pussy, flying back up to her grinning face. My words are almost a whimper, torn from me. “You can’t show me the most amazing sight I’ve ever seen and then take it away from me. That’s against the Geneva Conventions.” Sam’s eyebrows shoot up, but I think my reasoning impresses her a little bit. “The Geneva Convention. You think it has a whole section related to being a cock tease?” “No. I think it has a whole section on cruel and unusual torture.” Sam rolls her eyes, making sure her dress is carefully laid over the back of the couch, and disappears into the bathroom. No. I wasn’t done looking at her! Where’s she gone? Thankfully, she appears quickly, tying her hair back in a barrette. Okay, that’s an idea I can get behind. Finally, she sits carefully down on the bed, stretching her legs out, leaning back on her wrists and pouting sultrily at me. My tongue darts out to wet my lips again as she spreads her legs, the barely there lace not moving as her pussy lips spread, displaying the treasure there to me. “It’s all yours, Max.” Her throaty voice is back, my cock throbbing painfully in my trousers. I kick off my shoes, losing my belt, socks, and tie before I land on my knees in front of my gorgeous wife. “Fuck yeah, it’s all mine.” Tearing her panties off, I discard them on the floor, my fingers spreading her pussy lips further as I lean in, delving into my prize. My tongue laps at her folds, licking up to flicker at her clit as I eagerly shove two fingers into her now dripping pussy. “Max!” she squeals, her fingers digging into my hair as she curls her body forward, holding my head right where she wants it. That’s it, babe. Come for me. I did promise we would go back to our guests, so I’ll have to take my time later. I’ve booked our month-long Caribbean honeymoon, so I’m going to take my time a lot. I suck Sam’s clit into my mouth, nibbling it and she squeals again, her fingers tightening in my hair as her pussy grips my fingers, fluttering as she comes with a gush. She slumps back on her wrists, her glorious chest heavy as I rock back to sit on my heels, slowly sucking her tasty juices off my fingers. Our eyes burn together as I stand, releasing my aching cock, and flipping Sam over until she’s on her hands and knees, in her stunning lingerie, amid the white sheets and rose petals. I eye her ponytail thoughtfully. Yeah, I can work with that. Gripping her ass, I position my dick at her dripping entrance and reach forward, my hand wrapping around her ponytail. I slam balls deep into her pussy at the same time I tug her ponytail back toward me. Sam squeals again, her pussy pulsing tightly around my cock as she moans. “Fuck, Max! Do that again.” “Happy to oblige, babe.” I keep my hold tightly on her ponytail, keeping her head tipped back as I hammer into her. After the glorious feast I just had, I’m not going to last. Thankfully, neither is Sam. Her pussy is fluttering again, and she comes, hard, right as I tip over the edge, slamming into her a final time. I slump over her, my lips trailing the back of her neck. “You’re amazing, babe.” “That was amazing,” Sam gasps, moaning a little as I slip out of her, my hand releasing the hold on her ponytail. She’s a little wobbly-kneed as we climb off the bed, but heads straight into the bathroom. “Get dressed! We need to get back downstairs.” Seriously? Ah well, we ditched our guests, and if we go back downstairs, we get to come up again, and I get to have two wedding nights. What more could a man ask for? Sam emerges, her hair billowing again, her makeup fixed, still dressed in her lingerie, minus her torn panties, that are lying on the floor in a tiny heap of lace. She steps back into her dress, holding it against her tits as she smiles over her shoulder. “Can you zip me up?” I wet my lips – dry again. “You’re not wearing any panties.” “I didn’t bring a second pair. Hurry. I want to make sure no one has left before we can say goodbye.” Fuck. Me. This is the best night of my life. I zip up Sam’s dress, sneaking in another kiss to the back of her neck and stepping away. She grins, leading me out the door as my eyes are glued to the floaty skirts of her dress. She’s completely bare under there. Best. Night. Ever. SAMANTHA It feels naughty to be making our way back down to our guests, having just had wildly hot sex – my scalp is still tingling, as are my lady bits – and wearing no panties. I’ve walked away from Max a few times with no panties on. But that was to go back to my hotel room, not to return to a room full of family and friends to smile, and laugh, and drink. Max’s eyes are burning into me whenever I catch his gaze. Hell, I feel crazy powerful right now. He takes my hand, tugging me against him as the elevator takes us back down to the ballroom. His lips are tickling my ear as he breathes a long, dirty list of everything he’s going to do to me and my body, tonight, and the entire month-long honeymoon he has planned. My pussy clenches and by the time we walk out of the elevator, I’m so slick between my thighs it’s like a water park. Maybe this wasn’t the best plan I’ve ever had. My thoughts are taken off Max’s naughty words as we slip back into the ballroom to more cheers than when we left. Max immediately snags two flutes of champagne off a waitress, handing me one and swatting my ass as he strolls away with a wink. I glare after him but flash a smile as Ani approaches. She waves a hovering David off. He leaves, but mutinously, his gaze never leaving her as he joins his cousins, who are all drinking whiskey and laughing. I follow Ani to where Angie Westerhaven – Timothy’s heavily pregnant wife – is seated at their table, sipping on a glass of water. “Not long to go now,” Ani tells her cheerfully. Angie sighs, rubbing her protruding belly. “I can’t wait. The heartburn is rough.” I wince as I take my seat. I’ve never had heartburn before, but I’ve heard it’s bad. “When are you due?” “Two more months.” Angie sighs again, rolling her neck. “Nine months is way too long.” Ani is cradling her barely there bump. “Don’t tell me that.” Angie laughs, taking another sip. She eyes me speculatively. “I heard a month in the Caribbean awaits.” I make a face. “I know this probably sounds bad, but I don’t know if I can do a month of vacationing.” Ani shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. “You two are crazy. I would live on vacation six months of the year if I could.” Laughing, Angie nods to me. “A year ago, I was with you. But Tim has taught me a thing or two about relaxing and taking a vacation and I have to say, I’m a convert.” “Where did you take your honeymoon?” “Florence, and Paris. It was amazing,” Angie smiles dreamily. I turn to Ani, who flashes me a grin. “The South of France to look at art galleries.” “Those both sound amazing.” “So does lying on a yacht or beach in the Caribbean,” Ani reminds me. True. It sounds nice. Mom crosses to me, taking a seat and drawing my hand into her lap. “Happy, Sammie?” “More than I’ve ever been.” “Me too. I expect you to learn properly how to relax and enjoy yourself. Our Christmas LA trip is going to be even more amazing if Max has already done all the hard work to get you ready for it.” Rolling my eyes at her, I lean my head against her shoulder, my eyes finding my husband, where he laughs with his twin and cousins. Sharon has joined us, and she, Mom, Ani and Angie are discussing a possible Christmas party here in Chicago. I smile to myself. Before I went to New York to fight that lawsuit, I had no friends, no family but Mom, and a life that was work and little else. Now I have a full, large, loving family, Ani lives in New York, so I can see we’re going to be firm friends, and Angie and I have already exchanged WhatsApp details. Max might have filled my life, but everyone he has brought with him has definitely made it complete. Meeting Max was the best thing that ever happened to me. My eyes meet his burning hot ones and I smile lazily, even though my pussy clenches. I’m looking forward to tonight, the next month, and hell, the rest of my life. It’s going to be amazing. The End.  Photo by Nick Karvounis on Unsplash  ANICA
Sighing contentedly, I fold my arms on the windowsill, resting my chin on top of them. Spring in the South of France is amazing. My eyes move back to the fancy train carriage, where David is lounging on the seat across from me, reading a creased paperback. The Great Gatsby. “Your favorite book?” I tease him, still remembering our clash when I pushed that first week about his favorite color. David looks up from the page, a half-smile playing across his full lips. “I read it at least once a year.” “Seriously?” “Yes. Surprised?” Am I? Honestly? Jazz, the suits he likes wearing, how much of a gentleman he is unconsciously. “No. It suits you.” He closes the book, sitting up in his seat, eyeing me with intrigue. “If you had known it, would you have done the Haven Property design differently?” I purse my lips, studying him carefully. He’s not in a suit at the moment, wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He looks relaxed. More relaxed than he ever looked in New York. “No. I think I captured that aspect of your personality.” David grins, vaulting out of his seat to drop on mine, tugging me into his lap and teasing my temple with his lips. “You know my personality better than anyone else on earth.” My cheeks flood with heat. That’s so sweet. I don’t know how true it is, but it’s a nice idea. My eyes find the green landscape rolling past us. “Why the South of France?” “Why not? I asked where you wanted to go on our honeymoon, and you said I could pick wherever.” “Yes, but why did you pick here?” “Because they have some of the loveliest art galleries in the world, and I want to show them to you.” My heart thuds in my chest. “That’s so incredibly sweet.” “Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to ruin my reputation as a complete asshole back in New York.” “Your secret is safe with me.” David chuckles, his lips finding mine. “Did you want to fuck me here in this seat with the wind tangling in your hair?” My heart isn’t the only thing pulsing now. Oh my. Yes, please. My arms slide around his neck, and I twist in his lap, shifting until I’m straddling him. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he murmurs appreciatively against my lips, his hands kneading my ass. I’m glad I’m wearing a sundress. It will make things easier. David’s fingers skate up my thighs, under my dress, raising goosebumps as I grind down on him. “I need to be inside you, sweetheart,” David pants against my mouth. I won’t argue with that. “Please.” I set my knees on the plush seat on either side of David’s thighs, lifting off him slightly. With a groan, David releases his cock, shoving my panties aside and stroking my folds. The sun is shining in through the window, and the lovely breeze is ruffling my hair. This is heaven. His hand grips my hip, guiding me down until he is fully sheathed. I sigh against his lips, rocking my hips gently. No, now this is heaven. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ride me.” I don’t need to be told twice. Sliding my fingers through David’s thick, tousled hair, I find my rhythm, breaking our kiss so I can press my forehead against his. Our eyes burn together as I bounce on his cock, chasing my release. David’s hand cups my cheek, his thumb stroking softly as I pant and gasp. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Ani. Did you know that?” I don’t know if that’s true, but the fierce way he says it, with his eyes shining into mine, I almost believe it. My inner muscles clench and I come, unable to fight the look on David’s face and his intoxicating words. “I love you, David.” “I love you, Ani. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Now look who's stealing my lines. DAVID Ani dances across the hotel room, a strawberry in one hand, and a glass of champagne in the other. She’s wearing my polo shirt, and nothing else. She’s an absolute vision. With a giggle, she settles down on the bed beside me, popping the rest of the strawberry into her mouth, and chasing it down with some bubbles. “Thank you for bringing me here. The art is out of this world.” Outside our hotel room, Nice is shutting down for the night. My arms snake around Ani’s waist, anchoring her to me. “What do you think Tim and Angie will call their baby?” Ani asks. I grin, nuzzling her neck with my nose. Tim told me the morning after the wedding that Angie is due in October. I still can’t wrap my head around the idea of Timmy being a dad, or me being an uncle. “They’ll name him William if he’s a boy.” “After your uncle? That’s sweet.” “It’s very Timmy. And Angie, actually.” I lean back, stroking Ani’s hair out of her face as she sips her glass of champagne, watching me. “What?” she laughs, setting her glass down on the nightstand beside her and turning back to me. “Have you thought about kids?” Ani frowns, her lips twitching. She fidgets with the hem of the polo shirt. “Thought what about them?” “Whether you’d like them?” “Oh.” Ani’s frown clears, and her cheeks flame. I trail my thumb over one, feeling the heat against my flesh. “I mean… I guess… I hadn’t… what are your thoughts?” “That you’re cute when you’re flustered.” Ani scoffs, slapping my bare chest with her open palm. “Uh, ouch.” “Man up.” “Stop distracting me. We were having a serious conversation.” Ani’s giggles disappear and she eyes me carefully. “And what was your answer?” My answer to what my thoughts are about kids? “I want to have kids with you.” “Oh.” She flushes again, looking adorably pleased. “Uh, when? I mean… what’s your timeline?” My hand drops to her stomach, smoothing over it. “I want my kids to be close in age to Timmy’s. Like all us cousins are.” There is silence as Ani stares at me, her lips slightly parted. I hold my breath. Shit. I didn’t realize until right now how important this is to me. What if she doesn’t agree? Ani wiggles out of my arms and my heart thuds in my chest. Fuck. My mind goes blank as Ani strips the polo shirt over her head, letting it flutter to the ground as she eyes me, completely naked. “We’d better get trying then.” I growl, launching myself at her. Ani giggles, as she tumbles back, and I land on top of her, my lips finding hers. I know that she is on birth control, so having sex right now won’t have any effect on a pregnancy, but there’s no harm in practicing. Ani moans as my fingers slick through her folds, entering her, my lips teasing her throat. Maybe, if I try really hard – and we visit a doctor while we’re over here – I’ll have her pregnant before we return to New York next month. I’ll certainly do my best. The End.  TIMOTHY
Angie has been glued to the window since we climbed into the car, leaving Florence. Paris was incredible. I know the honeymoon has to end at some point, but the month we spent in our fifth-floor walkup near Notre Dame was magical. Angie was right. Waking up to the bells every day was a gift. Florence was a whirl of museums and art galleries, but now we’re headed to the main event. A month in a small villa, complete with its own vineyard. I’ve already arranged for an in-depth tour tomorrow with the owner. I want to turn my hand to wine-making. I realize that being here in March isn’t the best for that – September and October are the harvest months, but maybe I can learn the blending process. The car turns off the road through a set of wrought-iron gates, and I mirror Angie’s pose, almost pressing my nose against the window as we drive through the rows of vines up to the villa. “Oh, Tim, it’s gorgeous!” Angie sighs, climbing out of the car, her eyes glued on the Tuscan villa towering over us with its distinct red stone walls and red-tiled roofs. “Yeah, it is,” I agree, my eyes glued to the vines spread out before us, surrounding the villa on all sides. “Did you want to look inside or stay out here?” I turn at Angie’s giggle, rolling my eyes as I round the car, dropping an arm around her shoulders. “All right. We’ll have a tour inside and then lunch on the terrace.” “Overlooking the vineyards,” Angie agrees, still laughing at me. Oh, she’s going to pay for that. Angie turns with a smile, and I follow her up the stairs to the huge wooden front door, which is propped open, the owner standing just inside, shaded from the Tuscan sun, already making its presence felt in March. “Welcome, welcome!” he cries, opening his arms and kissing both of Angie’s cheeks and mine. “Come in, come in!” We follow him through the well-kept villa. The interior is faithful to its setting, with landscape paintings dotted around the wall, all of the local area. The furniture is from another time, and if the look on Angie’s face is anything to go by, she is as in love with the place as I am. We follow Piero through the historic rooms, finally reaching our bedroom at the top of the villa on the third floor. It, and a bathroom, are the only things on this level, and the windowed doors open onto a small balcony that overlooks the vineyards. This is going to be as nice to wake up to as the Notre Dame bells. Our bags were brought up ahead of us, sitting at the end of the bed, but Angie steps past them to open the doors and stand on the balcony, looking out with a soft expression. I wave Piero off, watching Angie with a smile. The bedroom door closes, leaving us alone. Angie turns, her eyes landing on me as they crease into a grin. “What?” I saunter over to her, tugging her into my arms. “I’m just thinking that I’m the luckiest man in the world to be here with you.” “You’re certainly a sweet talker.” Spinning Angie around, I walk her back into the room, my eyes landing on the wrought iron bedhead. “It’s no four-poster, but it will do.” Angie cranes her head to look at the bed as well. “It will do for what?” She cuts off with a squeal as I swing her into my arms, coming down on top of her on the bed, my lips finding her neck. “It will do to fuck you on.” “That’s less sweet.” “I was going for dirty.” Angie giggles, her fingers finding the buttons of my shirt, plucking at them. “I like dirty Tim.” “He likes you.” Her giggles turn to moans as I open her linen shirt, tugging down her bra cup to latch my lips around her nipple, and suckle. Angie’s fingers slide into my hair, holding my head against her chest as I work her trousers off, tugging off her panties as well. “Tim,” she gasps as two of my fingers enter her, pumping slowly. She’s ready for me. More than ready for me. Lifting my head, I smile down at her as I free my cock, positioning myself and sliding home. Angie’s legs come up to hug my hips, her hands finding my biceps, gripping as her head tips back, another moan escaping her lips. God, she’s so fucking beautiful. I am the luckiest man alive. This honeymoon is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Angie has relaxed the whole time. She has taken to vacationing like a duck to water. I’m going to ensure she doesn’t have another bad one in her life. Not if I have anything to say about it. Taking my weight on my forearms, my face nuzzles the side of Angie’s as I thrust firmly. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, babe.” “What happened to dirty?” “I’ve gone back to sweet.” “I’ll take it,” Angie sighs, bucking her hips as she chases her release. “I’ll take it all.” And I’m happy to give it all. Angie is a dream come true. Thank God Uncle Bill insisted she come to the UK for Christmas. Imagine if I’d never noticed her. That would have been a travesty. I definitely need to get Uncle Bill a gift. Angie will know the perfect thing. I’ll ask her later. Right now, I’m planning on making her come twice, and then explore the villa with her. ANGELA Tim waves as he strides off with Piero, dressed in jeans and a sweater, a broad-brimmed hat slapped on his head. He was practically bouncing off the walls this morning. He’s so excited about this vineyard tour. It’s cute. It’s even better that I don’t have to accompany him. I have other plans. Secret plans. As they move through the vines, the car I called pulls up. “Mrs. Brooks Westerhaven?” It’s been over a month, and I’m still not used to hearing myself called that. I slide into the car, waiting as the driver firmly closes the door, rounding the car and climbing in. “Into town?” “Yes, please. To the marketplace.” I wave to Tim as we pass them, and he raises a hand in reply, turning back to Piero, who is pointing to one of the vines. I settle back into the buttery leather seat, watching the trees and vineyards whip buy as we head into town. It’s a walled city, though it’s so tiny, I would call it a small town. It’s renaissance, and I love it. The marketplace is thriving, heaving with people, and I smile at the driver as I climb out of the car. “I’ll meet you back here in three hours?” “Of course, Mrs. Brooks Westerhaven.” I sling my purse over one shoulder, gripping my woven shopping bag with the other hand, and wave as I slip into the crowd. There are many market stalls, but I have another destination in mind. I’ll come back to the market. I want to get some antipasti to have for lunch today. I stop at the pharmacy, ducking inside and making my way to the “feminine hygiene” aisle. Most of the packaging is in Italian, but what I’m looking for is a distinct box. My hand lands on it and I grab two. Just in case. The cashier ringing my purchases up eyes my left hand and beams. “Good luck, signora.” I smile absently, tucking the boxes into my shopping bag and leaving the pharmacy. I turn away from the marketplace, walking to a small boutique hotel. “Buongiorno, signora,” the staff member manning the reception desk beams at me. “Hi, I was wondering if I could have a room. Do you have any availabilities?” “Si, signora.” I hand over my brand new black Amex, that Tim insisted on getting me. He scans it, handing me an old-fashioned key, and gesturing to the stairs. “Second floor, signora.” I head up the stairs, locating the room quickly and slipping inside. Leaving my purse on the bed, I take my boxes into the bathroom, closing the door. Here goes nothing. The car rolls up the long drive, parking in front of the villa. I clutch my woven shopping bag full of antipasti and slip out, making my way inside. Tim is there, walking out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine opened. He beams as I walk in, gesturing toward the terrace. “You said to set the table for antipasti. It’s ready.” “Perfect. You head out, and I’ll plate it up and bring out the platter.” Tim continues outside to pour the wine, as I hurry into the kitchen, plating the bread and antipasti on a lovely glass platter. After hesitating for a second, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, tucking it under my arm and taking the food outside. Leaping out of his seat, Tim grabs the platter off me, setting it on the table as I sit, placing the bottle of water on the table beside the wine. Ignoring my glass, I reach for the food, filling my plate as Tim chatters about his vineyard tour. When our plates are full, Tim plucks up his wineglass, saluting me with it. “I have some news.” I glance across at him, my eyebrows shooting up. What a coincidence. “I have news too.” Tim grins, setting his glass back down and leaning across the table. “One, two, three, and at the same time?” He’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Sounds like a plan.” “Okay. One. Two. Three,” Tim recites. “I’m pregnant.” “I’m buying this villa and vineyard.” He’s… what? I blink at him. “What?” “What?” Tim stares at me, his eyes wide. “I’m pregnant.” A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches over, plucking my wine glass up and setting it away from me. “You won’t need that. More wine for me.” I roll my eyes. Of course that’s his reaction. “You’re buying this villa and vineyard?” “Yeah. I spoke with Piero. He’s looking to sell, so I made an offer. Mario, the vineyard manager, is going to stay on. He lives in a small house on the property. We can come back once or twice a year for a month at a time. I thought it would be nice. Hell, maybe we’ll get an apartment in Paris too.” Tim falls silent, his eyes, shining with excitement, drop to my stomach. “Maybe instead of a studio, we’ll get a few bedrooms.” My lips twitch. “Are you happy about being a father?” “Even happier than about buying this place.” I shoot him a look. He better be happier about being a father than buying a house! Taking my hand, Tim leans across the table, brushing a kiss over my lips. “I love you, Angie.” “I love you too, Tim.” He sits back, still holding my hand on the table as he turns to look over the vineyards spread out before us. I have to admit, coming here for a few months a year… it’s going to be magical. “I can’t wait to run through the vines with our kid,” Tim sighs happily. Yeah. I can think of some other good things to do here too. “I can’t wait to sit right here sipping wine as I watch you.” Tim turns back to me, his eyes still shining, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “I look forward to making your dreams come true.” I squeeze his hand, my heart thudding. “Oh, Tim. You already have.” The End. |
Get your fix of bonus content here!
Links to the related books can be found at the bottom of each content section. 
Archives
April 2024
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
