12. Max
CHAPTER 12
MAX
“ T hat was out! The umpire needs glasses, Dad. That was so out – LBW!”
I clamped a hand over my daughter’s mouth which probably broke some parenting code I was unaware of, but I didn’t care because if she didn’t shut up, she was going to be thrown out. Lucy was loud when she was passionate about something and she was often passionate. She’d also absorbed the rules of cricket by osmosis, because I hadn’t taught her about leg before wicket and the reason the umpire wasn’t calling it was because it wasn’t a rule with kids the twins age.
“You need to pipe down.” I spoke in her ear. “You’re being too loud.”
She dropped me a glare that could kill and folded her arms in exactly the same way Vic did when she was pissed off with me. Unfortunately, it made me smile, because she was really starting to turn into a mini Vic, and while her mum was my favourite person in the whole world, the world really only needed one of them.
“You’re laughing at me.”
I nodded. “Yep. I am. Can you stop yelling abuse at the umpire? There’s only another over left.”
She nodded and looked away from me, hating being told off for anything. Just like Vic.
Vic who was sitting next to Marie with a gin and tonic, an essential in the hamper my dad had put together. Happiness was clothing her today; our kids were happy, our house didn’t look like a world war had just taken place and she’d had the physical proofs of a book she’d written on Eleanor of Aquitaine delivered this morning, which had prompted a cheeky glass of champagne because neither of us needed to drive anywhere.
My dad was right, if Vic was happy, I was. I saw that with him now too, that Marie being content was his main aim in life, as well as us.
And his grandkids.
Lucy had left me to go to him, sitting close up to him on another blanket he’d brought, pointing at the cricket field. She wanted to start playing cricket too, and we’d just had a recommendation for a girls’ team that was starting up, so that looked promising. I imagined that right now, she was discussing exactly how the field should be set up in more detail than anyone needed for kids cricket.
“You look like you’re almost relaxed.” Vic wrapped her arms around me from behind, startling me some. “Not something I see often.”
I took hold of her arms, holding them in place. “You see me relaxed every night.” I turned around to try and see her. “Come round the front.”
She moved, so I could wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear about the dirty things I was going to do to her later.
She smiled, shaking her head. “We’re at a children’s game. You shouldn’t be saying things like that.”
“No one can hear. Only you know what I’m saying. No one’s going to know exactly how I’m going to make you come later and how many times.” I kept it tame. For now.
“You might be in luck. Your mum’s offered to babysit. We can go out by ourselves, with no kids, after.” She lifted her head for a kiss at exactly the same time Maddox took a wicket.
I cheered, almost knocking her over as Will ran to his twin and gave him a high five. I had wondered what would happen when at some point they played against each other. They were definitely competitive enough to take sport further, I just hoped they managed to stay friends when they were rivals.
“Careful,” she said, laughing. “You were nearly a wife down.”
“You’d be replaceable. I’ve seen Oliver’s mum eyeing me up at least three times since this match started.” I wasn’t lying either.
“I noticed. Her boobs aren’t as big as mine though.” There was no sign of any jealousy, which wasn’t needed. Vic knew she owned me.
“I hadn’t looked.”
She laughed, vibrating against me. “You’re such a liar. I’ve never known anyone more obsessed with boobs that you.”
“I was a deprived child. I wasn’t breastfed.” I had no idea if I had been or not, but it sounded plausible. It had a very small chance of eliciting sympathy from Vic, although I wasn’t holding my breath.
“Do you see my breasts as being a source of food?” She rubbed at my forearms.
“Not at all. I see them as being the source of much enjoyment.” I moved my arms so I could sneakily nudge the underside of one through her T-shirt.
“Max, behave.” She tipped her head back and looked at me.
I used the opportunity to kiss her. “Never. So where do you want to go tonight?”
She was quiet for a moment, watching Maddox bowl another over.
“I want a hotel room, with room service, strawberries and whipped cream and us on our own with no family anywhere near.” Her smile was just a little naughty. “No kids getting into bed during the night, and no tripping over a small boy’s underpants on the way to the bathroom because our ensuite’s out of paper.”
“Is that what happened last night?”
“Yep. We really could be more organised.” She rested her back against me, letting me take some of her weight.
“Hotel. Room service. Strawberries. That’s what you want?”
“And cream. Don’t forget the cream.”
I couldn’t help the wicked grin that spread across my face. “What sort of cream?”
“Maxwell,” she said, warning me, but smiling anyway.
The agreement was that we could spend the night away and my parents would stay over, as long as we were back for nine-thirty, because they had stuff to do.
We bit their hands off, packed a very small amount of things, said goodbyes to the kids and headed off to a hotel next to the Thames, which happened to have a penthouse suite available for a single night, with a whirlpool bath and big windows with views across the city.
It was ideal. Perfect. Just us for a few hours with no interruptions or guilt, because the kids loved being with my parents.
“Where do you want to start?”
Vic’s eyes landed on the bath, situated at the edge of the room next to a window with views over the river. “That. An hour in that with some champagne sounds like bliss.”
“Am I invited or am I just an observer?” Always good to check. I preferred baths with Vic. And showers with her too. But sometimes she actually wanted to relax in a different way and seeing as I was like a dog with a chew toy when I saw her naked.
“You’re invited.” Her eyes were dark and her smile was a little predatory. “I’ll run the water. Can you get the champagne?”
“I can do that.” I rang room service rather than faffed with an app, asking for Vic’s favourite make, watching her stripping as she ran the bath, no need to be concerned about anyone watching because we were too high up and I imagined the windows were made with privacy glass anyway.
Not that she would care. She’d flashed me her tits shortly after we’d first met and it was still a memory I treasured.
“What do you think?” She was fully naked, tying her hair on top of her head which was giving me a really good view of her breasts.
“Fucking gorgeous.”
“I meant of the room.”
“I don’t care about the room.” I started to lose my polo shirt, dropping it to the floor just as there was a knock at the door. I also didn’t care about being shirtless opening the door, or that Vic was possibly just in eyeline of whoever was there.
“Thank you.” I handed over a note to tip him. “Can you send another up in an hour?”
He murmured something that sounded like an agreement and I took the glasses and bucket from him.
Vic was standing with her back to me, looking out of the window. The bath was still filling up, bubbles and all.
I put the champagne down, that could wait, and headed to stand behind her, slipping my arms around her and cupping her tits, kissing her neck. “Are you wet already?”
“Find out for yourself.”
I took that as an instruction, moving a hand round and down her back, over her ass and then between her legs, pushing my finger through wetness that was warm and inviting. I pressed a finger inside her, gently, slowly, then added another, hearing her rush of breath.
My other hand carried on playing with her tits, my mouth on her neck, leisurely building her up to coming on my hand.
"Do you want to come on my hand or my cock?” I sucked on her neck, knowing I’d leave a very small mark. “Or my tongue?”
“Tongue then cock.” Her hands went on the windows, bracing herself, in a scene we’d recreated a hundred times since the first.
I dropped to the floor, crawling between her legs, my jeans still on and my cock far too hard to be healthy.
It could wait though. The meaning was in the waiting.
I sat between her legs, my back to the window, hands on her thighs, fingers brushing the soft skin, feeling the tone of her muscle, the quiver of her flesh as I took my first taste.
Time gave you the chance to know exactly how to please your partner, to find what they liked best, what worked for them. It could also get too easy, monotonous.
That was never going to be acceptable.
So I never liked to let Vic think I was becoming predictable.
I moved my hands round her thighs onto her ass, pulling her closer to my mouth so I could feast. The taste of her, the scent of her, the sounds she was making as I brought her closer. I teased with my tongue, gently circling around her clit and ignoring her entrance.
Slow. Sweet and slow for now. I let her become fooled into this gentle security, nudging her closer, feeling her body tense. Then I shifted my hand, my hand running across her skin to her entrance and then fingering her, direct onto the nub inside her that had her explode in seconds, coming apart as she looked over London.
I didn’t give her heart rate chance to slow. Shifting back behind her, turning the bath tap off before I lost my mind and we ended up flooding the place, I managed to shuck off my jeans and underwear, more clothing to be retrieved later.
I stood up, slapping her arse which made her arch her back and lean closer to the window.
“Spread your legs, Victoria.” I nudged them apart, just enough so I had enough room to line my cock up with her entrance, slicking the head through her wetness, before pushing into her fully. Our combined groan filled the room, silence everywhere else. My vision blurred, one hand on her waist, gripping her hips, the other pushing one of her hands firmly against the glass, giving me purchase to fuck her like the world was ending and this was the last memory I’d have.
“I’ll never get tired of fucking you,” I half moaned the words. “Touch your clit, Victoria. I want you to come again.”
“I don’t need to - ” I could feel her body becoming limp, her back arching further.
My cock swelled, her body feeling tighter around me, both our orgasms in touching distance.
She came before me, her uncaptured hand moving higher up the window. I released the other so I could take hold of her hips with both hands, moving her on my cock as I filled her up with my release, the world realigning once again.
We didn’t stir for a few seconds, still using the window to steady ourselves, the scent of whatever Vic had put in the bath becoming more noticeable now other senses were calming down.
“Better?” I asked, hugging her back to me.
She turned her head to look at me, her back against my chest. “For now. For a few minutes. How long do you need?”
I bit her neck gently. “I’m an old man, remember, I don’t have the same recovery time.”
“We could test that. I think you’ve got it in you.”
“You mean you’ve got me in you.” I was still buried inside her. “I’m sure that bath will give me superpowers.”
Either the bath did, or the champagne. The bath was big enough and deep enough to not end up with us saturating the floor, small mercies which in the past I wouldn’t have considered. We sat at one end of the bath, Vic’s back against my chest, a few bubbles covering her tits which was entertaining me.
“Let me take a photo. Just for us.” I reached out to where I’d had the sense to put my phone, pressing for the camera.
“For fuck’s sake, don’t drop it in the water.” Vic stayed very still, which was great because the photo would be perfect to stare at later. One of her nipples was completely visible, the bath water still at the bottom of their curve. The other nipple was partially concealed by the bubbles, and her face was flush from fucking, hair tied up apart from a few tendrils which had escaped.
One photo. Two. I used the other hand to cup her breast, pinching the nipple and catching it on camera, then holding her breast. Another picture.
“I told you you’re obsessed.” Her hips pushed against my cock, which definitely wasn’t still.
“I’ve every right to be. I should be obsessed with my wife.” I carefully put my phone down, then slid my hands over her body, wondering who’d be ready for another round first.
She was slick between her legs, so l let my fingers busy there, slowly taking her to another climax. “Is that number three?”
I knew damn well it was.
“That’s the correct ratio, isn’t it? Three of mine to one of yours. Wasn’t that in our marriage vows?”
“Not the ones we said in public.”
She moved, turning round to straddle me and impaled herself on my fully hard cock. Her tits bounced as she moved, and I wished I had three hands so I could steady myself and touch both of them. I stole greedy kisses from her mouth, the slow steady rhythm that she started became more desperate until we came, water splashing around on to the floor.
We relaxed back, finding our champagne glasses that were barely touched, but then I’d always rather be drinking her than anything else.
“You’re okay with the house move?” she said, resting back against me. “You’re not going to stew on this for six months then be a grump for a week, are you?”
She knew me too well.
“No. I’m glad they’ve sold it, and I mean that. I think that era’s ended now.” The conversation with my father this morning had confirmed that.
“What do you mean?”
“The house was our safe place while we were growing up. The first safe place for me, Jacks, Claire and Cal as well. But we don’t need it anymore, we have our other homes now and we need to create spaces for our kids to grow up in. I think it’s served its purpose for Mum and Dad too.”
“They’ve outgrown it?”
“They have.” I paused. “Dad told me he was proud of me today. I think that was the first time ever.”
“Really? I think it’s always been really clear how proud of you he is.” She nuzzled my neck. “He looks at you like you invented space.”
“I’ve never noticed. And he’s never said it before. He said I was a brilliant dad.” I kissed her head, my arms wrapped around her now as we both came down from the orgasms.
“You are. The one thing you were worried about not being good at, you’re amazing at. Not sure Lucy thinks that after you gagged her before, but I’m sure she’ll recover after therapy.”
We both laughed, knowing the words that she’d be spouting tomorrow, still mortally offended at me for it.
“She’d have been ejected if she’d carried on.”
“The umpire couldn’t hear her. But some of the parents could. I heard one dad say she should be the coach.” Vic sipped at her champagne again. “I could see her doing that.”
“I can see her doing a lot of things. It’ll just be a case of what she chooses. She reminds me of you.”
“What’s that? Brilliant and amazing?”
I grinned, knowing exactly what this next comment would earn me.
“No. A smart-ass and stubborn.”
It was a good job I’d remembered the strawberries.