"You definitely need a few glasses of wine, or maybe a winery full, before we meet them," I said, half mumbling and putting my phone away. "They deserve a reality TV show all to themselves when they're together."
"You sound like you're not part of it."
"I tend to be the responsible one. Well, me, Max and sometimes Claire." I pushed a lock of hair out of her face then ran my fingers through it.
She gave me the smile that lit up her face. "You need to have fun and not be the responsible one all the time." Her lips pressed against mine, a reassuring kiss, nothing loaded. "Tell me about Amelie and Killian. I know about Amelie's café, but she seems to know your family well. How's that?"
I kissed her back and she straddled me again. There was no way we were leaving my house without me being inside her again. "Amelie grew up with us. She was my mum's best friend's daughter."
"This might be a stupid question, but why's she not gone into law or... Well, I suppose she has gone into business very successfully." Vanessa looked embarrassed, as if she felt she had been too judgemental. It was easy to see why, with Amelie's eclectic dress sense and way of speaking.
"She rebelled. She overheard her mother talking to one of her friends and discussing how Amelie would eventually settle down with the friend's son, it would be good for the family, merging wealth and all that. Amelie walked out, refused to start at a university that Autumn and had very little to do with her parents," I explained, my hands back under her top. I was starting to think I had some form of sickness; I couldn't leave her alone.
"Poor Amelie. She turned it around though. What about Killian?" I felt her tip her chest, offering me access. Maybe it wasn't just me who had the sickness.
"He went to university with Maxwell, studied business, I think. He was Max's best friend. Claire hates him, which is unfortunate." I winced. I needed to send Killian a message before he met up with us.
"Because he's organizing security while Claire works on a case that might have a bit of extra pressure."
"The model divorcing her husband. I caught a conversation the other day."
"You can't say anything about it." I realized my tone was too firm as soon as the words left my mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry, Van. I didn't mean to say it that way. I know you won't. Claire had some trouble a couple of years ago with a high-profile case and I'm..."
"Overly protective and you've only known me a few days. I signed a confidentiality agreement before I started which I have no problem with. Remember I'm a professional. But," she prodded me in the chest, "I know you're protecting your little sister and your family's business." She put her hands underneath her top and over mine, moving them up to her amazing tits. Her nipples were hard and I needed my mouth on them. "Do we have time?"
"We can be late. I'll think of a good excuse."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chapter Ten
Vanessa
Warm days brought the tourists out like moles from the London Underground and onto the pavements and paths in the city instead. The walk from Jackson's took a good ten minutes longer than usual, having to weave around people with cameras and kids, and groups standing in the middle of the pathway with a selfie stick. I could feel Jackson becoming agitated as we were running late. He'd ended up buried inside me on the roof terrace, my jeans around my ankles, me straddling his lap with just his flies undone. My bra and top were pushed up over my breasts so he could tease them with his tongue and he'd had to cover my mouth so we didn't draw attention from the neighbors – and I might've bitten his hand when I came.
I'd never had something like this before and it wasn't even about the timescale: it was the intensity. He played my body like a virtuoso, knowing exactly what to press to get a certain note, no tuning required. I'd never needed anyone so physically or felt as safe.
I paused at the side of the pathway and pulled him to me, standing on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on him. "Stop being grumpy with people," I said. "It's a gorgeous day and if we're a few minutes late we have a genuine reason."
"I wanted to stop for a drink on the way."
"You also wanted your cock in me, 'one last time,' before we had lunch. There wasn't time for both of those and for me to not smell of sex while we sit with your family," I said, imitating his voice.
"I'd have been more than happy for you to have smelt of sex," he said, pulling me along as we started to walk – fast.
I sighed. "And you would've liked the sex hair too. But we're trying to convince everyone that we've not spent the morning copulating like rabbits and that you had to text me to ask if I wanted to join you."
"Yeah well. I wish I'd said we couldn't go. Then we could've gone out on our own for food and got back to my house," he said, sounding even more grumpy.
"Jackson," I said. "We can't just spend the weekend sleeping together."
"Give me one good reason why not?"
The restaurant came into sight and we saw Claire approaching from the opposite direction, so I was saved having to think of a reason – I was struggling to be honest. The only ones I could think of – we could get bored, it was anti-social, I'd be too sore – weren't necessarily true. I remembered we were holding hands too late to not be noticed by Claire. Jackson didn't seem perturbed by it.
Claire's reaction was to stare, look at us both, then move swiftly on.
"So many bloody people around today. I swear I've murdered at least half a dozen tourists by glaring at them. I must've achieved serial killer status by now," she said. She looked her usual stunning self: slim, a perfectly styled dark bob, delicate features and large Bambi eyes. She wore cropped culottes and a gypsy top, showing off tanned shoulders. If she wasn't Jackson's sister, I'd be wanting to hate her.
