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“The same night you called me and played with yourself on the phone?” I grab her waist, spinning her around to face me. “What did you do with him, hm? What did the two of you get up to while you were drunk on champagne and wishing he was there to fuck you instead of me?”
“Oh shut up!” Saoirse looks at me, her green eyes sparking with anger. “I wasn’t wishing anything of the sort. If anything, I was thinking about calling you. Thinking about how you probably wouldn’t care to hear from me anyway. Are you going to tell me what you did atyourbachelor party?” She narrows her eyes. “You went to a strip club, right? What didyouget up to on your last night as an unmarried man?”
“That’s none of your business,” I say tightly. “I can do what I want, and at least I didn’t fuck anyone—”
“Neither did I!” Saoirse shouts. She wrenches away from me. “Fuck you,” she spits again, her eyes flashing, and then she grabs her clothes, disappearing into the bathroom with a slam of the door.
Something inside of me wants to go after her, but I don’t. I can’t back down, or I’ll never be able to get the upper hand with her again. She’ll know that a part of me wants her desperately, wants to give myself over to her completely, and that can never happen.
The first day of my marriage is getting off to a fuckinggreatstart.
---
The party is already in full swing by the time Saoirse and I get there. Neither of us spoke to the other throughout the morning process of getting dressed, going downstairs for a hotel breakfast and riding to her parents’ house, and I have a slightly heavy feeling in my chest at the thought that this is going to be my every day with Saoirse, for the rest of our lives. If this is how our marriage is starting, tense and angry with us at odds, I can’t imagine it’ll get better. It’s clear that the combativeness that’s always existed between us isn’t going to come to an end anytime soon.
It’s hard not to think of last night, of the way we playfully teased each other in bed, how naturally the banter had come to us as I’d been on the verge of fucking her. I’d seen a glimmer of what Saoirse and I would be like as a normal couple—but we’renota normal couple, and we never will be.
Now she’s sitting next to me in her denim shorts and a white t-shirt, the strings of her bathing suit peeking out from the neckline, stiff and upright as she stares stubbornly out of the window. I know I was unnecessarily harsh to her about the text, and I know she was a virgin last night. Saoirse might have been nearly foaming at the mouth with need by the time I finally fucked her, and I think she’s full of shit when she claims she and Niall arefriends, but I know Saoirse well enough by this point. After everything she and her father did to get me here, I know she wouldn’t risk screwing it all up in the last days by fucking someone else before our wedding. Saoirse is dutiful to a fault, and I know with absolute certainty that since the bargain was that I’d get a virgin bride in exchange for my return to Boston, she came to our wedding bed untouched.
Even if she was the most lustful virgin I’ve ever encountered.
The entire party is crowded around the pool when we arrive, an arch in front of the side doors of the house with white and gold balloons and roses around it, and a banner congratulating the newlyweds. Staff is barbecuing food—as if Graham would ever cook the steaks himself—and a long table is already weighed down with artisanal versions of cookout food. Everyone is in their swimsuits, except for Saoirse’s mother, who is in a sundress as she comes to greet us and kiss me on both cheeks.
“You could have slept in,” she chides us. “We’re just getting started. Besides, we know you have other things to do.” Her gaze slips to Saoirse’s belly, as if she expects it to start protruding with the promised pregnancy that very moment, and Saoirse flushes pink.
“Mother,”she hisses, shouldering her mother away from me as I see Luca and Viktor getting up from where their wives are lounging, heading my way. I see Saoirse’s curly-headed friend who was her maid of honor joining them, and I have a feeling I might have a brief respite from the coldness between me and my new bride before she comes back.
“How’s married life?” Viktor asks teasingly as he approaches. “You’re up awful early for a new groom.”
“It’s noon,” I growl irritably. “How long did you all expect us to stay in bed fucking for, anyway?”
“At least a day,” Luca says cheerfully. “But you did marry the Irish ice princess, so I can’t blame you if you didn’t want to linger.”
Ice princess.It’s on the tip of my tongue to correct them. Saoirse is anything but an ice princess with me, if anything, she bursts into flames under my touch. Everything between us is searing hot, more so than it should be.
But I’ve never been the type to brag, and I don’t want to sound as if I’m particularly invested in defending her honor, so I just shrug. “Some time in the sun and a good lunch sounded better,” is all I say, and Luca chuckles.
“Well, we’re all out enjoying it. It’s a lovely day. Come on, join us.”
He gestures for me to follow them, and I have no reason not to. I catch sight of Jacob arriving and motion for him to join us too, which he does, glancing in Saoirse’s direction.
“Things already a bit chilly?” he observes, and I groan.
“If one more person comments on the state of my nascent marriage—”
“That’s too big a word for me,” Jacob says cheerily. “I see Saoirse’s pretty friend made it, too.”
“Is she pretty?” I frown, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe in the right light—”
“She’s just not your type.” Jacob grins. “I, on the other hand—”
“She’s a schoolteacher,” I say warningly. “Not someone who should be getting even more mixed up in our dealings. Look all you want, but I know Saoirse wouldn’t appreciate you trying to touch. Nor would I,” I add. “That’s a complication we don’t need.”
“Ah, fine,” Jacob grunts. “But I’ll do some looking, that’s for sure.”
I shake my head as we join Luca and Viktor, stripping off our t-shirts and slathering on some sunscreen as we stretch out on the cushioned lounge chairs, sun glimmering off the blue water as staff circulates with drinks.
Saoirse is still talking with Maggie near the house, but a moment later I see her pull her white t-shirt over her head, and I’m gripped with a sudden spasm of lust as I see her full breasts come into view, high and perky in the electric blue bikini she’s wearing. It’s not particularly small—her breasts are fully covered, the tie wrapping around her neck, and when I see her wiggle out of the denim shorts, the bottoms aren’t particularly scanty either—which makes sense, considering we’re at a gathering with her family. Still, it hugs her slender curves perfectly, and I can feel my cock twitch in my swim trunks as I watch her stride towards the pool, her gorgeous body swaying as the sun shines down on her red hair, her breasts lifting as she reaches up to pull it into a high ponytail.
