She's the one thing he can't have. And it's killing him, because Kingston men always get what they want, don't they? In this story of an arranged marriage gone haywire, two polar opposites fight their way to be together. Can they withstand new love...
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It was new years day. Axle and I woke up a bit later than usual. We had planned for the family to come over and have lunch with us.
There was inclement weather and the roads were unbearable with all the traffic, yet somehow the family still made it over.
Papa, Valerie, Lo, Alyssa and Brendan all came over, despite the terrible weather. They weren't here for very long, we ate some flaming hot pasta, sat by the fire and I guess everyone had plans of their own.
I did however convince my brother and Axle to have a day together. To try and make peace before the wedding. These two hated each other and I'm pretty sure I heard Axle use some very filthy words once Lo had agreed. This would be happening tomorrow.
As everyone left, and all the dishes were packed away, Axle and I lay together on the couch.
"it's a shame this dress went to waste." I said, and smoothed my hand down my red Chanel strappy gown.
"it doesn't have to. I can take you somewhere." he said, and stroked my hair as I rested my head in his lap.
"no it's not safe out. I'll keep it for another time." I said, and sighed.
"everything was perfect today. You did a great job." his tone was pleasant. Warm.
"I'm glad everyone enjoyed the food, I think it was salty."
"nothing you made was salty, but damn, Val's potatoes were fucking awful. I practically felt my blood pressure go up after eating one." he said.
I snickered. "you're so catty. Did you notice my dad ate every last one?"
He chuckled. "I thought I was the only one who saw that. Poor guy."
"you look really nice today." I said, and ran my hand over his arm. He was in a white button up short sleeve shirt, in this freezing cold weather, with dark grey pants. I ran my fingers up the tattoos staining his arm.
"you look really nice today." he repeated, in a pleasant tone. Again.
His hand roamed all over my back, making its way down to my thighs. It was warm, sending heat waves through the dress. I kept my head on his lap, because heat had rose to my cheeks, probably staining them redder than my dress.
"sit up." he ordered, and thus returning his clipped and rough tone.
I followed his instructions and before I knew it, I was straddling his lap. He bit his lip and his hands continued to trail up my thighs, until the dress was bunched up around my waist.
He never broke eye contact with me, and I tucked my hair behind my ears before he pulled me in to kiss him. It was hard. Wet. Sloppy. I could taste the vanilla whisky he was drinking earlier on his tongue. He was sucking mine, and I could feel the want and urgency in his kiss. He was in control.
