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After several seconds, I’m able to breathe without pain. The tingles are subsiding and the sweat that built up on my upper lip is turning to a cold, damp, glisten instead. I take a few more deepbreaths, willing this to be the only one of these stupid attacks I have tonight, and lower my head to the steering wheel.
What the fuck is up with me? I’m healthy. I exercise. I eat well. And besides these ‘attacks’ I’m fine. Maybe I should talk to Ivy, get a professional opinion. But she’ll only worry about me, tell Lola and Mum, and then they’ll worry too. No. If I do see a doctor it won’t be one that I’m related to.
I sit up straight and blow a deep breath out. Nope, I’m not doing this tonight. I’m going to my sister's dinner party. I’m going to eat the amazing food and drink the fabulous cocktails she’ll prepare and I’m not worrying over anything else. I’m definitely not going to worry about where Phoebe is tonight. Not whether she’s with another man. Or whether he’ll become her husband one day. And definitely not over these ‘episodes.’ Tonight is for spending time with family and having a good time. Like we used to have before Dad died and before I became Uncle Fucking Frowny Face.
I’ve been ambushed. I glare at Lola as I shake Dan’s hand and give him an awkward man hug. When I step away, my sister smiles sweetly and wraps her arms around my neck. “You’re in so much trouble, Lo,” I whisper into her ear and squeeze her a little tighter.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Freddie. Relax and have fun,” she whispers back and steps away from me, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Now that our last guest has finally arrived we can get this party started. The first course is almost ready, but until then, mingle and enjoy the nibbles and drinks on offer.”
She grabs Dan’s hand and pulls him into the kitchen. I’m left in the middle of the room with two options. I can make my way over to Ivy, who’s talking to her current boyfriend in the corner of the room. Or I can head over to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. The very same woman I swore to avoid. Pheebs.
My gaze focuses at her feet and sweeps up, taking in the tight black dress caressing her curves, the hint of her long legs with the thigh split teasing me as she shuffles slightly. I manage to pull my attention away from the smooth curve of her legs, dragging my eyes up to meet hers.
She raises a perfectly sculpted brow and grins, offering me a drink as she brings her own to her lips. And as her tongue pokes out to angle her straw correctly, I can’t take it anymore.
I’ve had enough of avoiding her. Of trying to live without her. I need her. I’m done. I want to know what her tongue feels like as she wraps her lips around my dick. To run my hands through the silky strands of her hair as she drives me wild with that mouth of hers. This attraction, this ache, it’s something it’s been inside of me for as long as I can remember. And I’m not strong enough to fight it anymore. Not when she’s staring at me, challenging me to make a move and finally take what’s mine.
We’ve come close before but aside from a few kisses and touches, nothing more ever came from our flirting. I lick my lips, smile and glide over to her. I take the proffered drink, clink the glass against hers and mouth ‘cheers.’ Her eyes are alight with passion and hope, and tonight I’m not listening to the voice in my head telling me to ‘run.’
I take a generous sip, wincing at just how much alcohol is in there, but ignore that little voice in my head warning me this is dangerous and knock back a little more.
“Whoa, slow down, Freddie Bear.” I freeze mid gulp and bring my gaze to meet hers. Nobody’s called me that in years,especially her. A lump forms in my throat and she squirms in her shoes. “Erm, sorry, Freddie. That just slipped out. Old habits, you know?” She giggles nervously and takes a sip of her drink.
I lower my glass and smile slowly. “Don’t apologise, Pheebs. I like it. Reminds me of the good old days.”
Her cheeks flush and she lowers her lashes and smiles. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Lola’s high pitched voice fills the room, taking over the low mood music she’s put on. “Right. Everyone, the starters are ready. Sit in your designated seats and we’ll pop open the champagne Freddie bought us.” She clasps her hands together and bites on her lip. “But make sure you sit where your name plate is. It’s super important.” Her nervous energy flows out of her and she’s back to biting her lip.
Luckily Dan spots this too. He places his hand over hers and reaches up to free her lip from her teeth. “Calm down. It’s just a family dinner, babe. Stop stressing.”
Her shoulders relax, she grins up at him, and the whole exchange makes me smile. He’s the perfect person for her. And I thank everything that she found him.
“It’s magical watching them together, isn’t it?” A whispered voice tickles the shell of my ear and I can’t fight the shiver that takes over my whole body.
I lean back a little and feel Pheebs pressed against my back. Tilting my head so I can whisper in her ear, I take great pleasure from the goosebumps coating her creamy skin from our contact. “It is. But not as magical as seeing your body react to mine, Pheebs.” I place a kiss on her cheek and relish in the shocked gasp that falls from her pretty pink lips.
Her fingers brush her cheek and I join my smirking sisters to sit in my designated spot, which just so happens to be next to Phoebe. Lola might not be the subtlest, but her methods are definitely working in my favour tonight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Phoebe
My cheeks hurt from laughing so much. Tonight has been amazing. Lola’s giggles, Dan’s stories, and Freddie’s hand resting on my thigh for most of the night—it’s been magical.
But now I’m flustered, hot, needy and only a little bit tipsy. Unlike Lola, who’s full-on drunk, singing karaoke without a microphone or teleprompter and making words up as she goes along. Ivy got a call shortly after we sat down to eat and had to leave, her date escorting her home, so it’s just Freddie, me, Lola and Dan.
I take another sip of my champagne and shift slightly in my seat when Freddie’s fingers trace little circles over my thigh. Does he know what he’s doing to me right now? Judging from the smirk on his lips, the bulge in his trousers, and the look in his eyes, I’d say he does.
His gaze drifts from watching Lola to look at me, and the heat that sears through his eyes does nothing to salvage my thong. I swear, if I don’t get some relief soon, I’m going to explode. Andthis fucker knows it too. His fingers glide higher up my thigh and dance dangerously close to where I want his touch the most. The sexy, slow smile he shoots me when I uncross my legs for him sends another shot of need to my core.
Thankfully, Lola comes to my rescue, smashing a vase as she swings her hands out at a particularly enthusiastic part of her song, and Dan calls time on our night. He swoops her into his arms and she squeals excitedly and flings her head back dramatically. “Bye, bitches. I’m being put to bed. Bebe, make me your siii…”
I thank the lord above that Dan gets her out of the room before she finished her sentence, knowing she was going to say ‘make me your sister.’ And terrified that something will scare my Freddie Bear away right now. I think I’ll combust if he leaves without finishing the job.
“She shouldn’t mix her drinks. She knows this.” He shakes his head and laughs softly.
“She’ll never change and we wouldn’t want her to either.”
