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She came, crying my name, her body trembling with every pulse and shock of her pleasure.
I joined her, calling out her name with a shout as I poured myself inside her, one word chanting in my mind over and over:mine, mine, mine.Nothing but pure bliss. I collapsed on top of her, burying my face in her neck, panting and muttering as she held me tight.
Anastasia. Mine.
21
HARRY
Ballydoon Community Group:
Leonie posted 10.38 a.m.:
Hello! Amanda’s coming back to Ballydoon with her fiancé Stuart. Everyone is invited to join us in the beer garden of the pub next Sunday for drinks, nibbles and dancing. Wedding bells very soon!
Stacey was about to arrive any second now to join me and meet my friends. A week had passed since the grass fire, and our night together, and I’d only seen her at work. It was exquisite torture, seeing her every day and not being able to act on our desires.
A week of secretly making out in the records room, making out in Lorraine before I dropped her off home, and more dirty dancing with Beryl and her friends at the nursing home.
Stacey’s farm duties, house painting and another training night for the fire brigade had meant we’d only had a couple of moments alone in the last week after work. In the records room yesterday, Stacey had insisted she wanted to give me a blow job, and I let her. The day before that, I’d praised her for wearing a skirt to work and got on my knees to finally taste her again, bringing her to climax with my mouth.
But we’d not been in my hotel room. Or her room at the farm, or even in Lorraine. While at work, I craved every touch from her I could get: on the arm, shoulder, even my elbow. Even passing a goddamn pen so I had a chance to touch her.
How did I end up a man who was horny over a woman passing him a pen? It had only been a week since we’d slept together, but I was behaving like an addict. I couldn’t get enough touching, kissing, and yes, I wanted to fuck again, and I knew Stacey did, too.
And now, I was fidgeting on my bar stool, glancing at the pub’s front door for the millionth time, raging with hormones and nerves.
“Holy shit, look at you,” Andy laughed, plonking down three beers and a red wine on our table. “You’re really worked up over this girl.”
Beside him, Mel and Steve smirked.
They began chanting “Harry’s got a girlfriend, Harry’s got a girlfriend”, holding up their drinks in a mock toast.
“How old are you lot? Five or something?”
I tugged on my collar and picked up my beer. Shit, what if they didn’t get along with her?
“It will be fine, Harry,” Mel said, patting my arm. Her husband Steve kept on grinning.
Someone cut the background music and, after a pause, the opening riff to AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ started with a few cheers.
I turned towards the door and then saw her.
Anastasia.
She was in a white floaty-style top with a jacket over that and,fuck,black leather pants, and black ankle boots. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders. She paused to say hello to guys from the Ballydoon Rural Fire Brigade and the rugby league team, including Benji at tables near the door.
I swallowed hard, watching her walk towards our table, hips swaying in time to the song, her curves accentuated in those leather pants.
She also had a very large handbag. Could easily have spare clothes, a toothbrush. Could Stacey be staying with me tonight?
I was instantly hard, transfixed as our eyes locked.
I wanted to sink my fingers into her hair and kiss her before I reached into those leather pants and—
Andy slapped my back, interrupting my smut-fuelled daydream. “Who’s that? Why didn’t you tell me the women in this town were so hot?”
I growled, spotting several fire brigade crew members had noticed how good she looked in those pants.
