Jail Bird. Jessie Keane
and decked out with white ribbons, was coming up the drive.
‘I’ll give your Uncle Si a shout,’ said Maeve, and took herself off to find him.
‘And where the hell is Oli?’ Saz shouted after her.
‘You’re not supposed to do that,’ said Oli King sternly, pushing her dark curling hair out of her eyes and ignoring the almost unbearable, palpitating heat of desire that was sweeping over her. She sneaked a look out through the stable door when she heard a motor passing. ‘And look, there’s the damned car and I’m supposed to be in there helping Saz…no, don’t do that…’
Oli was eighteen to Saz’s twenty-one, and she thought that her sister Saz had been born old. She, however, had not. She wasn’t planning on getting married, settling down, all that boring load of bollocks, not ever. She planned one day to live on the Left Bank in Paris and have a lot of lovers. Beyond that, she hadn’t planned much at all. But then…then she had met Jase.
‘Do what?’ asked Jase, his fingers busy inside the terracotta-coloured silk bodice of her bridesmaid’s dress.
‘That,’ she snapped, although the rough touch of his hands against her cool-skinned breasts and hard, urgently aroused nipples was driving her insane. ‘Stop it. Or I’ll tell Uncle Si on you.’
Jase worked for Si. Doing what, Oli was never entirely sure.
Ask no questions and you’ll be told no lies: that was the family motto. Obviously it was Jase’s motto, too, because whenever she’d tentatively skirted around the subject of what he actually did for Uncle Si, Jase was always evasive. He was
Head of Security at the family club, she knew that, but that wasn’t all he did for Si and Freddy, she just knew it. There were too many nights away, too many hushed phone calls and delivering packages, too many times when he was distracted or distant.
Jase was gorgeous, though. Curly dark hair, big shoulders, narrow laughing dark green eyes. He looked great in the morning suit he was wearing, a white carnation in the buttonhole. He’d said she looked great in the terracotta-coloured dress, too, and had promptly brought her in here and tried to get the damned thing off her.
Oli hated dresses anyway. She lived in jeans and t-shirts. High heels killed her. It was all very well for Saz, poncing about like Lady Muck, but she hated all this show. She was happier here, in the old disused stables, with Jase. If only he’d behave.
‘You’ve got fantastic tits,’ said Jase, popping one out of the top of the bodice to admire it more easily.
‘No…’ moaned Oli, but when he put his mouth to her breast, lapping the nipple with his tongue, she stopped protesting. She was absolutely smitten with Jase. She loved all this. She’d been terrified the first time, terrified and sort of flattered too. Because Jase had told her he loved her, and then he’d done it to her, and it had been her absolute first time, very quick, brutally sexual, and quite painful. And then had come the wait, the horrible, anxious wait, and the fear. I could be pregnant, she’d thought over and over, feeling sick with dread.
That was how she felt most times they did it now – sick with terror as well as desire.
‘We’ve got time for a quicky,’ said Jase, already lifting her skirts.
‘No we haven’t,’ said Oli, thinking: Oh shit, not again.
‘Yes we have.’ He nuzzled into her neck. ‘You let me last time. You liked it.’ He took her hand, stroked it over the bulge in his trousers.
Oli groaned. She felt nearly incandescent with need now. She had liked it. But they’d used no protection, nothing, and she’d been so relieved when her period had come on. She looked down. He’d unzipped himself and now he was holding his naked penis, hugely engorged and aroused, in his hand. ‘Come on, Oli. You know you want to…’
Oh, and how she wanted to. She was so lucky to have Jase for her boyfriend, she knew that. He could take his pick of the girls in their circle, but he’d chosen her, she was such a lucky girl and she didn’t want him thinking she was a complete washout; she couldn’t bear the idea of him going off her, going with one of the many others who were just waiting for their chance with him.
Sometimes in life you have to make instant choices, Oli knew that, and she was impulsive by nature, she liked to make her decisions quickly.
She made this one without any further hesitation. She tore off her knickers, leaned back, parted her legs, lifted her skirts.
‘All right. But only put it in a little bit, okay?’ She was panting.
He put it right in. Way in. She gasped as it slipped into her wetness like an eel through water. Oh, it was good.
But too quick, too quick again, leaving her throbbing, not sore but restless, unfulfilled. And afterwards she felt more sober. Her period was already late and she knew that until it came, she’d be in a state of horrible anxiety. An unplanned pregnancy didn’t figure in her Bohemian dreams of the future. Not at all.
The bells were ringing and so was Si King’s head as the Silver Phantom rolled up at the church, him and his lovely niece resplendent in the back, him wishing he hadn’t bothered with the pub last night. Trust Freddy to start acting up because that bitch Lily was on the loose again. Jesus, his head was throbbing. He’d have to tap Maeve up for some aspirin. She always carried a stash of supplies in her handbag.
Patience was Simon’s forte. It wasn’t Freddy’s, and it hadn’t really been Leo’s either. But Si always played the long game. And he was going to get Lily sorted, but not unless he could be one hundred per cent certain that he could fix it to look accidental. He’d been thinking about it, and he thought that maybe he could. He didn’t want to upset the girls in any way, not if it could be avoided; there was always that to be considered.
‘Now what the hell’s Oli up to? She’s going to ruin her hair,’ said Saz from behind her veil.
Si looked. Oli was outside the vestibule with Jase, one of his boys. Jase and a couple of the other security guys were acting as ushers today. She was trying on his top hat, knocking her flowered headdress askew, laughing up at him as he grinned back down at her.
Si thought that Oli’s hair was beyond ruining. It was wild, dark and curly, and nothing would tame it – a bit like Oli herself. He frowned as he gazed out at the handsome couple indulging in shameless flirtation. Maybe he ought to mark Jase’s card for him today, tell him to back off a bit. He’d been considering this for a little while; he’d noticed the play between the two of them was getting a bit more serious. Jase was a smart youngster, a good worker, but a chancer; he’d see Oli as a good ticket to advancement in the King organization and Si could tell that he was working the old charm on his gullible niece like a pro. Yeah, definitely time to have a word. Didn’t want the silly little git getting Oli up the duff or anything drastic like that. Then he’d really have to step in, and Jase would be sorry.
‘She looks beautiful,’ Si said smoothly to his flustered niece.
‘She looks tatty, just like she always does,’ fretted Saz.
‘She looks lovely, and so do you. Now relax. Enjoy the day.’
The vicar was standing just inside the porch now. Jase had gone back inside.
Smart move, you little arsehole, thought Si, his headache making him irritable.
Oli was there by the vicar, patting her headdress back into place, rosebuds and bits of greenery tumbling out of it, her expression one of extreme innocence as she smiled over at her uncle and sister. Looking like butter wouldn’t melt. Si wasn’t fooled. Saz was cool; Oli was the hot one. He guessed that Saz’s Richard