I frowned, setting down the mixing bowl I was washing and turning to face her. The summer sun was pouring in through the window in front of us, and I had to squint to look at her. “After all this time, despite everything”– I gestured between us with the brush I’d been using– “do you really still think of us all as your brother’s friends?”
She pursed her lips and looked at me sceptically, as if searching for the answer. “Honestly, yeah,” she said. “Maybe not you, not anymore, but the rest of them? Even Chloe? Yes. If Jack and I fell out for some reason, they’d all be his friends, not mine.”
“You know that’s not true,” I said, feeling suddenly very defensive. “Remember when Jack went travelling for all those years? Chloe and I didn’t ditch you. We were here for you.”
“Yeah, and look how well that went.”
I shook my head and turned back to the washing up, scrubbing hard at a dried-on patch of something. I wasn’t sure what I could do to make her see how wrong she was. How integral she felt already to the makeup of the group. Ultimately, though, I wasn’t sure it was possible for me to say something that would make her believe it. It would just take time, like everything.
“It’s fine,” she said when I didn’t reply, wringing the towel in her hands. “And don’t worry, even if I went, I wouldn’t make you come with me.”
“Oh no, I’d be going with you,” I said, my gaze snapping back to her. “That prick deserves to see how good this townie looks in a suit.”
This made Amy crack a smile, which of course meant I smiled, too.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.”
“You’re in for a treat.” I winked, and she rolled her eyes.
“But you wouldn’t be allowed to look better than I do.”
“I assure you,” I said, “that’s not possible, even if you showed up in tattered joggers. But also, no girlfriend of mine would go anywhere of consequence without a Phil Owen original.”
“Oh yeah,” she said sarcastically. “Just whip up a black tie-ready dress in less than a month, why don’t ya.”
“I’m sorry, did you see how quickly I made your costume for the festival? I’d be fine.” It wasn’t strictly true– the design I’d been working on with Morgan for Amy’s ballgown was pretty intricate, and making a wedding outfit too would be a bit much. I’d started on the gown weeks ago, as soon as we’d gotten back from the festival. The pattern was already cut in my craft room.
Not that she could do both. If she did choose to go to the wedding, she’d be missing the ball, and all that effort would be for nothing.
Amy’s smile twisted into a wicked grin, and she stepped into me, turning me so my bum was pressed against the kitchen sink, her body against mine. She pressed up onto her tiptoes and leaned into me. “Does that mean you’d have to retake my measurements?” she said softly into my ear. “Because that might be reason enough to RSVP yes.”
“Unlikely, since I’m now intimately familiar with every inch of your body.” I desperately tried to keep my voice even, despite her running the tip of her tongue along the edge of my ear, making me swallow hard. I couldn’t help but bring my hands up, running over the rough denim covering her hips, pulling her into me. I was already straining against my own jeans.
“Better safe than sorry,” she whispered, then pressed a kiss to my mouth. I opened myself to her, and I felt her tongue run lightly along my lip. I traced up her spine with my hand until I reached her hair, wrapping my fingers through it and tugging, exposing her throat to me. I kissed the delicate skin there, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips.
“We have to finish this before we go get Ethel,” she said, breaking my focus. Her voice was breathy, but I could still feel the vibrations of it in her throat. “But we have a few minutes, I suppose.” She grinned up at me wickedly, bringing a hand between us, and it was everything I could do not to come undone at just the suggestion of her touch.
But I didn’t want just a few minutes. I wanted to take my time with her. I wanted to stretch out every second of the next quarter of an hour we had together. I wanted to turn every heartbeat into an eternity.
I kissed her again, deeply this time. A moan escaped from between us, and I honestly wasn’t sure if it was her or me. But either way, I decided it was my mission to make as many of them as possible before the oven timer went off.
I reached behind me and tugged the café-style curtains closed across the window. Then I dipped down and wrapped my arms snugly around Amy, lifting her up so her legs wrapped around my middle. She squealed as I spun her around, swiping Ethel’s binder out of the way and propping Amy up on the worktop next to the pile of drying dishes.
She watched as I reached over my shoulders to grab my T-shirt, pulling it off over my head and letting it fall to the floor between us. Her eyes roved over me, reaching out to run a hand over my chest, tangling her fingers in the hair there like she always did, her eyes wide with pleasure. It could have been amusement, but honestly, I was perfectly happy being ogled by Amy Evans. I was just over the moon that she was so obviously happy to be there.
Speaking of which, my own happiness to be there was growing noticeably as Amy’s hands began to roam, unbuttoning my jeans when she reached them. She tucked her fingers into the waistband of my pants and pulled everything down at once, and I sprang free as she did. She smirked up at me, clearly pleased with her own ability to turn me on so thoroughly, then ran a hand over my hip bone and inward.
But I reached down and pulled her hand away before she could spoil the fun too soon. I pulled her forward off the worktop so she was leaning against it instead and knelt in front of her. She wore denim cutoffs, short and loose enough that I could reach my arms around her and run my hands over her ass beneath them. I grabbed hard at the flesh there, pulling her apart with my fingers, letting them just skirt the next layer of fabric between her legs. She spread them further apart as she sighed.
She slowly untied the corset top she wore– it was probably unnecessary for the purposes of getting it off her, but it was mesmerising to watch. My eyes were glued to her chest as the top got looser and the swell of her breasts released, and it was all I could do not to stand up and bury my face in them. Instead I gulped as she finally tugged the top off over her head, her tits bouncing free from the fabric, and then I really couldn’t help myself, tilting up and taking one of them in my mouth, earning another moan and her fingers in my hair. I closed my mouth around the tight bud of her nipple, sucking hard as I swirled my tongue around the tip, making her arch her back in response, her hair long enough to tickle my wrists where they disappeared beneath her shorts. I moved them to start unbuttoning the front, kissing the underside of her breast, then the pale skin just below it, then down her stomach. I reached her waistband just as my fingers tugged down the zip, exposing the pale pink cotton thong she wore beneath.
But instead of tugging them down immediately, I grabbed her by the hips and spun her around so her front was pressed into the worktop. Only then did I remove her shorts and her thong, letting them pool at her ankles.
“Shit,” she sighed, trying to straighten, her hand reaching back for me. But I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me.
“Forward,” I said, then put a hand firmly on her back between her shoulder blades, pushing her away from me until her forearms found the worktop. I felt her shiver as her bare skin met the cold tile, and I leaned to the side to see that she was smiling in anticipation.
I put my hands back on her hips and pulled them back into me, and she gasped as she felt my hard length press against her. I moved her forwards and backwards a couple of times, ever so slowly, spreading her with my hands as I did, her breath hitching as the air hit her wetness. I smiled at how turned on I could see she was.
