Page 43 of Hit For Six (Balls and Banter #1)

They went inside the greenhouse and Monty turned on the tap to fill up a couple of watering cans while Lola pondered whether she might have been transported to Kew Gardens.

The place was massive. It could have been opened to the public as its own attraction.

Frankly, it was bonkers to trust just Monty to remember to come here and water this lot.

They tended to everything, from Variegated Monstera to Philodendrons, splitting the tasks between them.

Lola had a lesson in Latin, following Helena’s written instructions that had been documented in a visitor’s book (who had one of those in their house, let alone their greenhouse?).

And they left the stunning orchids well alone.

But Lola couldn’t believe that she had to pull Monty back from the cactus!

If they ever ended up living together– which was a vision she could imagine all too clearly, a vision that excited her– then they’d have to make do with dried flowers.

Suddenly, Lola’s homely daydream had her imagining Squiffy curled up between the pair of them on the sofa, too. She was getting carried away.

Back in the relative warmth of the kitchen, Monty whipped them up gourmet chicken pizzas from a certain supermarket and chocolate truffles from Fortnum and Mason.

‘I want you in every room, Lola.’

His eyes flashed with intensity as the velvety cocoa melted on her tongue and Lola felt like she was back in first date mode, her skin tingling with want.

‘That might require a bit more energy than even tonight’s meal can provide.’

‘Let’s crack open a second bottle of the pink and take our glasses with us,’ he said, his eyes never leaving her. ‘We’ll do a tour of the house. Even I need to refresh my memory on the number of rooms… and then you can choose where and how you’d like me to worship you.’

‘Bloody hell, Monty.’ Lola tried to break the tension before she melted into a puddle on the kitchen floor herself. Who didn’t know how many rooms their childhood home had? ‘Don’t leave me anywhere. I might get lost.’

‘Not a chance. And it’s ghost-free, I promise. My mother got it exorcised when we moved in and since then, not a peep.’

‘That’s reassuring! I must admit, I did wonder.’

Lola felt herself relax a little more. She wouldn’t have pegged Helena as someone who believed in the spirit world.

It was good to know that she was more open-minded than Lola had first thought.

Monty selected another bottle of champagne from the fridge and collected their flutes as he walked over to Lola slowly, holding her gaze until their lips met and the next thing she knew, she was moments away from begging him to have sex with her on the island.

She pushed him back playfully, spun around on the bar stool and jumped off before that could happen.

‘Oh, you’re leading the way, are you?’

‘As long as you stop me before I open the door to your parents’ bedroom, then yes.’

Lola led Monty along the vast corridor of the ground floor, tentatively pushing the door of the first room on the left. She’d felt quite the rebel as she’d marched past yet more judgemental portraits, almost flipping them a series of birds.

‘Good choice,’ said Monty. ‘After you.’

She stepped into the room and even though it was dark for a few seconds before Monty flicked on the light switch, she just knew that she was standing in a library. The distinctive smell of books was heavenly.

‘Look at this!’ she said, as if Monty had never set foot in the room before.

‘One of their many showy, barely used spaces, yes. It’s pretty impressive. Full of signed first editions but sadly no secret doorway in the bookshelves. It’s all bullshit, though. My parents never read.’

‘I find that hard to believe when they were watching a Shakespeare play the other night.’

Lola ran her fingers along some of the spines, trying to quell her envy.

‘My father likes to feel intellectually superior and my mother only went because it’s what all the women in her Cotswold social circle do.

She purposely memorises lines from Will’s plays.

She’s the same with her book club. Most of her cronies are.

They’ll read the first couple of pages of the latest Man Booker prize then hop online to get a gist of the summary so they can have a fake debate about it at their next get-together. ’

‘Well, that’s just.’ Lola turned. Monty’s face looked so handsome illuminated by the glow of the moon creeping in through the curtains.

She was going to finish her statement off with tragic but feared that the walls, shelves and books had ears.

‘I love everything bookish– from thrillers to romcoms, period dramas to cosy mysteries… when I’m feeling clever.

But reading what you want and what you love should be the motto of any book club. ’

‘You’re far cleverer than me, who has had everything handed to him on a plate. And yes, it should. Never a truer word.’

‘Oh, come on.’ She moved closer to Monty, prodding him gently in the chest. ‘I’m not quite up there with your levels of intelligence. You went to a private boarding school with all the bells and whistles. I went to a bog standard state school where only a handful were expected to come out on top.’

‘Which you have.’

Monty arched a brow, begging to differ as his spare hand travelled down to her hips.

‘I’m working on it,’ she mumbled into his chest.

God, he smelt incredible. A less is more splash of the copious varieties of Chanel that he stocked in his bathroom.

‘I wish I’d had parents like yours growing up.’

He nuzzled her neck. Lola laughed. Not just because he’d caught her erogenous zone.

‘That would have been a slightly different upbringing.’

She straightened herself up and looked into his eyes.

‘Exactly. My parents are… difficult .’

‘I’m sure they care about you.’

‘In their own special way. But I’m not sure if that’s enough anymore.’

‘So, then… Serious question now.’ Lola fingered Monty’s belt, her hand dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. ‘How are we going to navigate them? They’ve not even asked to see me formally yet.’

‘Actually they kind of have.’ Oh? This was news to her. ‘I just didn’t want to scare you off.’ Monty winked, but it was impossible to tell if he was doing their bidding. ‘Mother and father will be hosting their end of summer party in September and I may bring a companion.’

‘Aka I don’t get a named invitation and they’re hoping you’ll have broken up with me by then?’

‘Not. At. All.’ Monty gave Lola the tenderest of kisses, punctuating each word. ‘Nobody is going to gatekeep this relationship.’ He relegated the bottle and glasses to the windowsill and poured them some more champagne. ‘I’ll sort my parents out. Don’t you worry about that.’

But one room later, as they succumbed to their passion on the billiards table, clothes strewn among the striped balls, Lola wasn’t so sure that Helena or her husband would be accepting of her, after all.

Somehow Lola knew that if she kept up her relationship with Monty, his parents would cut him off from his inheritance.

Not that she was aware of what that entailed.

Probably the house. Possibly the business.

How could she be the one to let this happen?

Their bodies drew flush against one another. Their kissing reached fever pitch. One of Monty’s hands inched its way up her thigh. The other reached around her back to unhook her bra. There hadn’t been a whole lot of point to the see-through garment, but now he stood back to view her, spellbound.

‘Your nipples were driving me wild, sweetheart. Utter perfection.’

He cupped a breast and Lola moaned as he flicked his tongue against her skin. Her clitoris was officially on fire.

‘I need you now, Monty,’ she whimpered.

‘The feeling is entirely mutual. You are the hottest woman. Honestly, Lola. I would die for you. I can’t get enough of you.’

Monty gently spread Lola’s legs, his hand continuing the pillow-biting (if she was on a bed) pressure. He hadn’t even entered her yet and she wasn’t sure how she could stop herself from climaxing as the waves of pleasure mounted from every circle of his fingers.

It felt deliciously wicked. Let the walls listen!

Although, thankfully there were no scornful portraits to look down on her in this room, she wasn’t sure that she could have handled that.

And Lola hoped Monty really had switched the security cameras off.

Maybe she could get used to making love in random spaces after all when it was this thrilling.

Monty stretched across the billiard table and delved into the netted pocket in its corner, pulling out a small foil package.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I stashed it here earlier.’

‘Multitasking reaches new levels.’ Lola was in hysterics. ‘But I am very glad that you did.’

‘I need to taste you first. You’re going to have to be patient.’

‘Monty! Noooo! I don’t think I can–’

But his warm mouth was between her thighs, quelling the ache in one breath, igniting her need in the next.

Lola’s ears whirred, her head felt full of stars.

Her nails dug into the electric blue felt of the table.

She didn’t care if she ripped it off. This moment was worth everything.

Rationality no longer existed. Her fingertips grasped at a ball.

Monty let out a groan of pleasure and Lola could no longer think straight. She pushed the object across the table, no idea or care of its trajectory until it thumped on the floor, rolling who knew where and killing the moment.

‘What the bloody hell was that?’

Monty jumped.

‘I’m sorry. Shit! I might have damaged the flooring… I-I couldn’t hold on any longer.’

‘Don’t you ever apologise! I’m more than happy to take the hint. Come here.’

He hitched his hands under her buttocks and scooched her to the edge of the billiard table, diving in for an explicit kiss.

‘Ohhhhhh,’ he growled. ‘Fuck, Lola. You are so damn exquisite.’