Page 44 of Finding the One (River Rain #7)

Wary

Dair

T he next morning, water from the shower was jetting down on his back as he held Blake by the cheeks of her fine arse against the wall and thrust inside.

She had the fingers of one hand fisted in his hair, the nails of the other digging into his lower spine, and her pussy was clutching and releasing on his rhythm.

Aye, and her tongue was darting in and out of his mouth the same.

He felt his balls draw tighter, tore his mouth from her tongue tease and grunted, “Your cunt is goddamned magic.”

“You say…” she paused through a thrust, “the sweetest,” another thrust, “ things ,” she finished on a moan, her fingers tightening, her nails digging deeper, her legs wrapped around his ass holding on as her pussy clenched his and didn’t let go because she was orgasming.

He pulled her from the wall and turned to hold her under the water while she shoved her face in his neck, held on and helped him with some wee bounces as he pumped into her under the spray until he found it.

As usual, it was big, it lasted long, and he had to throw out an arm to plant a hand on the tile to steady himself through it.

When he came down, Blake had all four of her limbs wrapped tight around him and was pressing little kisses up the side of his neck, along his jaw and to his mouth.

And the water continued to rain down on them.

“How am I going to survive a week without you?” she whispered against his mouth, smoothing a hand along his slick hairline at the back of his neck.

His sweet lass.

Dair took his hand from the wall to put it back to her arse and used both to give her a squeeze.

“Phone sex?” he suggested.

She laughed softly and kissed him again.

But she didn’t say no.

He kissed her back, then lifted her off his dick, and they finished their shower.

They were standing in King’s Cross Station, snogging.

The day before, Dair had to go in to work early, and Blake had spent the entire day with her family.

By the time he met them for dinner, something Blake, Alex and Marlo cooked together in the kitchen at the townhouse, it wasn’t as if those women had only met the evening before. It was like they’d known each other for years.

Along with the rugby match, which Blake told him was “a revelation,” and “who knew dirty, sweaty, bloody men could be so sexy?” (and obviously, that made him laugh and do it for a long time), the women had squeezed in some shopping.

But Blake told him “it didn’t count” because they’d been looking at baby things.

It was abundantly clear Ned was living his best life, not only having his daughters accept the woman he loved with open arms but also seeing his girls with a more mature woman with whom they connected and enjoyed spending time.

Marlo was more Blake’s speed, but between her and Blake, they managed to make Alex comfortable in their trio.

“She’s the absolute shit, brother,” Rix had said to him in a moment it was just the two of them. “It’s like, they lost Helena, and it was no loss, then they turn around and get Marlo, and they hit the motherlode.”

All through an evening filled with chatter and laughter, it seemed what Rix said was exactly the case.

Ned put his foot down about Blake and Dair not wasting any time seeing them to the airport. Therefore, they’d all had brunch then they’d lingered over goodbyes on the pavement before the rest headed to Heathrow.

He could see his woman was borderline devastated to say goodbye to them, but plans had been made for Alex’s return, and Marlo said she’d try to come with, considering the things they would be sifting through were her forte. Although Blake had experience with high fashion, Marlo was an expert in it.

And this meant, if Marlo came, Ned would as well.

So their separation wouldn’t last long.

They’d had just enough time for him to get back and pack, and for both of them to take a car to King’s Cross.

And that brought him to now.

He was aware people were staring at them, and no doubt some taking photos, and he didn’t give a shite.

What he gave a shite about was that his train was leaving in five minutes, and he needed to get his arse on it.

And in doing that, he had to do something he really didn’t want to do.

Leave Blake behind.

He understood logically that a separation would be good, even healthy.

That didn’t mean he wanted one.

With no choice, he ended the kiss.

Her lips turned down and her fingers stroked behind his ear.

In this instance, he didn’t like the first, but the last always felt nice.

“You have to go,” she whispered.

“Aye, love. Unfortunately.”

“You’ll call when you get home?”

“Aye.”

“You’ll give Sorcha a snuggle for me?”

He smiled at her.

Christ, he loved that she loved his dog.

“I’ll give her two.”

“Call me on your way home from lunch with your dad.”

She’d eventually asked about the phone call he made, so he’d told her about his dad and Signe.

“I will.”

Her gaze wandered to the turnstiles that took you to the platforms and she said wistfully. “It’s not an ocean away, I suppose.”

Safe to say, he also loved it that she didn’t want to separate either.

He gave her a squeeze and regained her attention. “You’ll be up on Saturday, and we’ll talk in between. Just like when you were in New York. When you come back to me, I’ll meet ye at the station. And you’ll feel better having things as ye want them for when Alex and Marlo return.”

She nodded. “Right.”

“Quick kiss then we need to let go.”

Her hold on him tightened.

Ah, his bonny lass.

“I…”

Whatever she was going to say, she trailed off and that lingered so long he had to give her a shake.

“Ye what?” he prompted.

She painted on a bright smile. “I’ll see you Saturday and talk to you in a few hours.”

“Aye, you will.” He bent, touched his mouth to hers and said there, “I’ll miss ye, hen.”

“I’ll miss you too, Dair.”

He kissed the side of her hair, let her go, bent and hefted the strap of his duffel on his shoulder, also taking hold of the garment bag which he threw over the same shoulder.

He shot her a grin as he walked toward the turnstiles.

She put her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss.

And, aye.

His woman could be totally adorable.

Once through the turnstiles, when he looked back, she was still there.

So he stopped and stabbed a finger toward the doors behind her.

She rolled her eyes, but she got her arse moving.

Oh, aye.

Totally adorable.

Dair texted her when the train was underway and called when he got home. He also sent her a picture of Sorcha after he retrieved her. The snap of his dog looked like she was smiling.

Her reply to his picture of Sorcha was so many double pink hearts, he had to scroll down twice.

Absolutely, he loved that she loved his dog.

And he loved that she was falling in love with him.

He took that opportunity to make the picture of her and Sorcha at the park his lock screen photo.

He called her the next evening, and they drank a glass of wine together long distance while she did most of the prattling.

This chiefly consisted of her shock at the abundance of her mother’s clothes and “I don’t think in forty years she’s given that first thing away.

This is like a museum to St. Laurent, Gucci, McQueen, and I could go on. ”

Blake had, however, also asked about Davi and his mum, and gently probed into how he felt about speaking to his dad and the shite Signe was pulling. He was not gentle in his replies that he wasn’t fond of either.

He called her the next morning, and made her come with his voice, and listening to her climax, she made him come with the assistance of his hand.

They spoke again, briefly, in the evening because, “You’d think this would not be a complaint ever in my entire life, but I’m covered in Prada and Givenchy, honey.

I will never consider myself a clotheshorse again after sorting through this tangle.

We’re about to lick it here, so I can take the train to Treverton tomorrow.

But I want to fill a couple more boxes before I give up for the night. ”

As such, he’d let her go so she could crack on with it.

In the meantime, Dair had decided to set aside what Rix had told him.

He was not unaware that Blake had worked hard to change her ways. How she’d treated her sister was not good nor was it right. But it was done.

This Blake, his Blake, was a different woman.

It was in everything she said, everything she did, and how everyone around her treated her.

She hadn’t been at his house with him for long, but they’d either been with each other or within a walk from one room to another for some time.

The short while they’d been separated, Dair already felt the keen sense of missing having her near, and he knew that was in a way this feeling was communicating something deeper.

He wanted her with him.

All the time.

The morning after that, she texted him, telling him she’d be on the afternoon train back to Treverton, wishing him luck with his lunch with his father and reminding him to call her as soon as he could on his return home.

He didn’t miss she was worried about him because she didn’t hide it.

He didn’t want her to worry, but even so, he loved that too.

He replied with a red heart.

And two hours later, he got in his car to go have lunch with his dad.

The door to the office was closed, and any additional chairs that normally sat around the circular conference table in the corner by one of the windows had been taken away.

The table was covered in food.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the man he couldn’t repair what he’d done to Dair’s heart and their entire family with hefty sandwich triangles, chicken skewers, samosas, smoked salmon on toast and miniature hazelnut dacquoise and éclairs, but he didn’t want to spend any more time there than he had to.

So he didn’t tell him that.

He just sat, took a plate and filled it.

“I see we’re not bothering with the pleasantries,” his father mumbled as he sat opposite Dair.