Chapter 54
Tig is surprisingly calm in the limo on the way to the church. Mum and Dad have gone up ahead and it’s me, Pen, and Yan who will be accompanying Tig down the aisle.
She could not look happier or more radiant. And when I tell her, she replies, ‘Duh, why do you think I’m taking so many selfies? I know where my best angles are. I don’t trust this photographer that Theo found at short notice.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll all be taking photos,’ Yan assures her.
‘As per your instructions,’ adds Pen.
Tig spent the night at Mum and Dad’s last night and brought along her military-grade organising skills. Everyone’s turn in the shower this morning was worked out to the second, with Dad allocated a whole extra minute on account of his stitches.
Tig looks amazing in her column dress with detachable train.
‘Theo’s gonna lose it when he sees you,’ says Pen.
And I can’t help imagining Mark’s reaction when he sees me in my dark green sheath dress, or how his hands will feel when they slide over the lace bodice.
Yan calls ahead of time to make sure everyone is ready before Tig makes her grand entrance, so, in no time at all, the car is dropping us off outside the church.
All three of us have our red carnation buttonholes, although as Maid of Honour mine is slightly bigger.
Father Michalis greets us at the church door, makes sure everyone is happy, then we line up in order: Yan and Pen, Tig and lastly me.
I don’t dare look at Mark until I’m almost at the altar. And even though Tig and Theo are already side by side, Mark doesn’t face forward until we make eye contact, not caring he’s in full view of everyone.
He looks sensational in a navy morning suit and matching shirt and waistcoat, the red carnation at his buttonhole adding a dramatic pop of colour.
He looks like he should be on the red carpet being papped by a thousand cameras.
Then he smiles at me like we’re the only two people in the room, and I forget to breathe.
For most of the service, Mark and I are on either side of Tig and Theo. But there are parts where we have to stand next to each other, including when we take it in turns to swap the wreaths on Tig’s and Theo’s heads.
Each time the fabric of his jacket brushes my bare arm, I get goosebumps, and I’m transported to that breathless night in his bed, doing things I really shouldn’t be thinking about in church.
The service ends, the registers are signed, and then we’re outside watching confetti rain down on Tig and Theo.
We get pulled apart by friends and relatives eager to congratulate the happy couple. Then the official photographer frog-marches us into different positions and I lose him.
The next time I see Mark is at the drinks reception in the hotel lobby.
He checks that no one’s around, then pulls me into an alcove, wrapping his hands around my hips.
‘You look stunning.’
‘So do you,’ I tell him.
‘Fuck,’ he whispers, his forehead touching mine. ‘I so badly need to get you naked.’
I nod. ‘Maybe we can slip away …?’
His breathing gets heavier. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I’m not sure I can wait until tonight.’
He swallows hard. ‘We’re probably okay for, say, fifteen minutes?’
I nod. ‘You can’t muss up my hair, or make-up.’
‘I’ll get creative.’
‘Give me a couple of minutes. Room three one three. I’ll leave it ajar.’
He’s all business when he arrives, immediately taking off his jacket and waistcoat.
‘Is there time to get undressed?’ I ask.
‘I can’t bloody move in this stupid outfit,’ he says, pulling off his tie, his cufflinks and unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Who invented waistcoats? Waste of fucking time.’
I smile. ‘You should see the crap women have to wear under their clothes at formal events.’
He grins at me. ‘I plan to do exactly that.’
I pick up a condom from my bedside table and nod at the bed. ‘Here?’
He shakes his head and leads me purposefully to the bathroom. He unzips my dress and lets it fall to the floor.
‘Jesus. Fuck,’ he whispers, taking in my strapless bra, lace knickers and black hold-up stockings.
When I reach for my knickers, he stops me. ‘Leave everything on. Including the shoes.’
He stands behind me, both of us facing the sink so we can see each other in the mirror.
‘My God, I missed you,’ he whispers.
I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper and hold my breath in anticipation. I’m so turned on it hurts.
‘Fuck it,’ he mutters, dropping to his knees and spinning me round. ‘Another five minutes isn’t going to kill anyone.’
He moves my knickers aside, and then his mouth is on me.
I clutch the basin behind me as he lifts one leg onto his shoulder.
He gets me there in well under five minutes, and I’m still coming down from my orgasm when he stands and turns me around again.
His eyes flutter shut as he slowly enters me from behind.
He lets out a slow, controlled breath, then starts to move, his dark eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
‘This is my ultimate threesome,’ he murmurs. ‘There are two of you.’