Page 51 of The Player

“Good morning,” he says, coming over. He sits on the bed and leans in to kiss me. It’s soft at first, his full lips just resting on mine. I put up my hand to curve around his cheek, feeling the sharp bones under the skin. It makes me feel tender and warm, and I pull him closer, murmuring silly words of love. Within seconds, he has me flat on my back, his tongue tangling with mine as he works to get me out from under the rumpled sheets.

I open my legs, feeling the rough denim of his jeans on the soft skin of my inner thighs and my cock. His hands push under me, cupping my arse and squeezing the cheeks while we kiss languidly.

I grumble when he pulls away, and he grins at me. The smile is big and wide, and his eyes are as soft and warm as a cup of hot chocolate. “We’re getting married today,” he whispers.

I smile helplessly. “I know.”

He leans down and rubs his nose against mine. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

I cup his face in my palms. “Con, I have always been yours, and I always will be.” His eyes flare, and I raise my eyebrows. “Do you think there’s time for a shag before?”

“There is always time for a shag,” he says fervently and reaches towards the bedside table, fumbling in the drawer for the lube.

However, unfortunately for my cock, it’s going to have to wait as Con’s abrupt movement makes the jar of flowers shake, and my mind comes back online.

“Where did you get those flowers from?”

“Hmm?” He stares at me as he lubes his big cock, and I almost forget what we’re supposed to be talking about. “What flowers?” he asks.

“The flowers you picked for me last night.”

He pauses in his lube application. “Why are you whispering?”

“In case Lucy hears us.”

He blinks. “Lucy Scrimshaw? Why are you bothered about her?” I slowly raise my eyebrow. “Okay, why are you worried other than the main reason of her personality? Surely she hasn’t taken to hiding in villagers’ bedrooms?”

“I would put nothing past that woman.”

His cock is now wilting slightly as he casts an anxious look at the blooms. “I think they were growing wild.”

“Think again, Fagin.” I shake my head, wanting to laugh. “You half inched a bouquet for me. That’s so romantic.”

“I did what?” He looks at the flowers. “Oh my god,” he whispers. “Are those Lucy’s dahlias?” I bite my lip. “The rare-colour dahlias that Lucy Scrimshaw has been cultivating and growing in her greenhouse? The flowers that she’s hoping to win first prize for at the garden show next week?” I nod, and he falls back onto the mattress. “Oh my god, I’m a dead man,” he says faintly.

His cock has now deflated completely, and I snuggle up next to him. His arm automatically comes up, drawing me closer while he stares at the ceiling, probably contemplating his demise. I snuggle in resting my head on his shoulder and inhaling the warm scent of his skin.

“Maybe we could stick them back in the tub?” I offer.

He turns his head slowly to look at me. “What?”

I shrug. “She’s got loads of them, so she might not even notice some are missing. We can glue them back in, and then Bob’s your uncle?”

“Where did that expression actually come from?”

I smirk. “Are you interested in the answer to that, or should we pay attention to your last wishes before Lucy Scrimshaw murders you?”

He closes his eyes and groans. “Don’t say her full name again. It’ll be three times, then, and she’ll pop up, running her fingers along the cupboards and telling me she knows the name of a good cleaner.”

I start to laugh. “I still can’t believe she did that at the housewarming.”

We’d thrown a party when I’d moved in with him, figuring that we might as well celebrate while the house was still a shell. Most of the village had attended, as well as sundry musicians that Con knows. It had been a fantastic night full of music and laughter, which is appropriate because that’s the way our life is together.

“I’ll find the superglue,” he says, and I start to laugh and then put out a hand to stop him as he rolls out of bed. “Whoa, there. Don’t be hasty. Didn’t you have something to do first?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Well, I do have a long list of tasks this morning. It turns out that getting married creates a lot of additional jobs.”

“Is shagging me on that list?”

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