Tay’s fingers catch the head of my thickening cock, and my knee jumps, jerking the entire table. Fuck.
‘Easy,’ Daisy laughs.
Yeah.Easy, idiot.
‘You okay there, big boy?’ Daisy adds, and my dignity dies a thousand deaths.
Meanwhile, Taylor’s shoulders are shaking because she’s silently losing it at my expense. She leans in, voice a whisper no one else can hear, dark amusement dripping off each word. ‘Yeah, big boy… doing all right?’
I shoot her a look that promises payback. She raises a brow like she’s already priced it, wrapped it, and scheduled delivery.
Then Theo stands, tapping his glass.
Fantastic timing. Truly.
Everyone turns towards him.
Taylor’s hand doesn’t move.
Theo starts talking about gratitude and memories and the best week of their lives. All the sweet shit. And the table glows with wholesome vibes while my blood pumps with the very opposite.
I nudge her with my knee:back off.
She nudges back, absolutely unrepentant, and her hand shifts again, nails raking over my balls. My spine nearly leaves my body through the top of my skull, and Daisy shoots me a suspicious side-eye.
I stare straight at Theo like he’s the second coming and pin my trembling thighs to the seat. Nothing to see here.
He toasts the room.
He even toasts Sterling for gifting his home and his yacht as venues – something Sadie or his mother must’ve put him up to, considering the current climate.
Then he toasts us, the best man and maid of honour.
All eyes turn our way. For the love of?—
I raise my glass on autopilot.
‘We love you guys,’ Taylor says. Still busy using me as her personal stress toy. Still pushing me to the brink. ‘You deserve all the good things.’
Theo grins down at his wife. ‘To all the good things.’
And I grin right along with them… like I’m not one wrong touch away from losing my fucking mind.
We cheer. Glasses clink. I manage Daisy first, then turn to Taylor.
She’s waiting, poised, calm, eyes glowing with challenge and victory, and I’m this close to going full caveman on her arse.
‘All the good things,’ she murmurs.
‘You better believe it.’
Because I’m coming for her, and she better bloody be ready.
The table erupts into that warm, nauseating wave of post-speech chatter: hugs, laughter, more clinking glasses. Goodnights start bouncing around, and her hand finally slips away.
She gets to her feet. Her perfume, that dress, her legs… all taunting me up close.
I try to keep my expression neutral, try to focus on whatever Daisy is saying to me now, but I can’t stop tracking Taylor. She moves through the group like nothing’s happening. Like she hasn’t just unravelled me and left every nerve exposed and aching.
