Page 27 of Love Thief

I know the girl is still standing there, watching us together. He turns me around to walk back to the table.

“Don’t forget,” she shouts to me. “Small pieces.” I hear her laugh as we walk away.

Pushing me into the booth, we’re shrouded in semidarkness, and I see Mick move to block the view.

“Where did you go? Grace was frantic when she came back and you weren’t here.” He’s stroking any bit of skin he can see. Every touch feels like a jolt of lightning.

“I just needed a bit of time to sort my head out, but it’s all fine.” I run my hand around his neck and into his hair. “I’ve made my decision. You’re mine, for better or worse I think the saying is.”

I pull on his hair and kiss him, and kiss him. Every part of my body is on him, I’m entwined around him like a vine. You wouldn’t be able to slip a slither of paper between our bodies and I don’t give a shit who sees me. Hotel receptionists, flashers. Fuck the lot of them.

With a growl, he pulls me further onto his lap, facing him, and amps up the touching to maximum voltage. It’s quite a show we put on. I don’t even stop him when his hand goes under my dress and across my knickers. He’s constantly growling into my mouth as he moves my knickers to the side and pushes his fingers into me.

I know it’s dark, but Xander is next to me and can probably see. And I don’t care. I’m all in, no turning back.

“You’re fucking amazing, Evie Greystone,” he gasps in awe into my mouth.

“I know, Marcus Russell.”

“Ten of the best for that, Kitten.”

“Give it your best shot. Bring it on, baby.” He laughs at my challenge, clearly wondering what’s happened, but goes silent when I tell him, “I brought my riding crop.”

I hear Xander hiss out a breath next to me. “Will you two pack it in, I’m gonna come.”

I grin at him. “Anyone start anything, they better get out of my way,” I say, moving off Kell’s lap, out of the shadows and into the open, facing everyone at the table, “because they’ll end up like his Ferrari—flat as a pancake.”

Grace appears to be recovering from the upset of me disappearing, and Kell shouting at her. Her tears slowing, she leans over and hugs me. Apologising to Kell.

I hug her back. “I thought you were going to have your first fight, Grace.”

“I was, those bitches.”

“We’d have flattened ‘em, but I didn’t want to get arrested just yet.” We all start to laugh.

“No getting arrested at all,” warns Kellen, “we’ve got shit to do tonight.” He smirks at me.

“Tonight definitely?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Yes, thirty minutes exactly. Shall we tell them?” I nod and he grins round at the table, his eyes alight with glee. “Well my beauties, who wants to go to a wedding?”

Xander shoots his hand up in the air. “I’ll go. Whose is it?” I roll my eyes at him.

“No fucking way!” Gabe shouts.

“You are fucking kidding us,” Levi says, his jaw on the floor.

“Oh sweet Jesus, better phone Tim,” Kenny exclaims.

“Let’s go, people. I want my bride.”

“I’m in black!” I cry. I was expecting to go and get changed first.

“Take it off then. That’ll be magic,” Xander quips. The table goes silent and everyone looks at him. “Just saying,” he shrugs.

“I don’t give a fuck what colour you’re in,” Kellen announces. ”We are doing it tonight. Let’s go. Elvis and Marilyn await.” He’s laughing now, looking completely drunk as he drags me out of the booth.

All the party are on a high, either man-made or natural, but high as kites we all head off to the little chapel. And on the 25th May, Marcus Henry James Kellen Russell, Earl of Stockton, marries me—Evie Greystone (Russell) of Cornhill Manor Blackstone Devon—again. Two of the witnesses cry, the bride smiles, and the groom beams at her as Elvis sings and Marilyn pouts.

---