I love lazy Sundays. I love them even more now that I get to wake up next to Martha.
I'd come to terms with our Valentine's Day plans being hijacked, leaving the two of us to babysit Léa and Sera but what neither of us counted on was Sophie and Charlotte missing their babies so much that they came to pick them up that night instead of the next morning. Surprisingly, it was my brother and sister-in-law who wanted their baby back the most with Charlotte and Isaac not all that bothered about taking Sera off Marhta's hands twelve hours earlier. Still, both babies left our care just shy of ten pm, giving Martha and me two hours of Valentine's Day where we could be alone.
We made the most of the time, drinking wine and eating chocolate before making out and stripping off. One thing led to another and then... well, I'll let your imagination guess what happened next. Our first night together was strange, that we both managed to agree on once it was over. I think we'd been building it up in our minds so much that it was impossible to get it right the first time. Since then, we've been practising and perfecting.
At first, we stayed mainly at Martha's house but after an awkward encounter with her father last week, I insisted Martha stay at mine to avoid another run-in with Isaac Fletcher. She wasn't happy about it at first, especially because she had to rush off home every morning to get changed, but once I cleared some wardrobe space for her and tidied a shelf in the bathroom, she soon settled in.
Gosh, we're practically living together now.
"What about this scar?" Martha asked, tracing a ghostly white line on my chest. "Let me guess, blood pact with a vampire?"
Laughing, I shake my head and look down at the marking that burned under her touch. "Actually, that was from when Dan pushed me into a glass door and it shattered underneath me. Some of the glass cut me and I had to have three stitches. It was traumatic."
"Dan pushed you into a door?" Martha asked, frowning at hearing my childhood story.
"I was seven and really obnoxious," I explain. "I deserved it because I killed his hamster."
As it was Sunday and neither of us had plans, we weren't in a rush to get out of bed. Instead, we continued to explore each other's body; at the moment, Martha was finding any and every scar she could on my torso, asking for the history of each one. So far, she's learnt about how I'd fallen off a rocking horse and cut my shoulder on a sharp edge, how I got caught on barbed wire when I tried to escape my grandmother's wrath, and now she knows about Dan pushing me through a glass door.
Martha, I now know, only has one scar and that was from when she was bitten by a spider. I remember laughing when she said that but when Martha announced that it was a Black Widow that had bitten her, my eyes almost popped out of my sockets. She reassured me that with anti-venom, the bite wasn't that bad but it irritated her skin enough to leave a scar no bigger than her thumbnail. Her scar story was much cooler than mine.
"I'm a little surprised that you don't have a tattoo," Martha notes, her eyes scanning my bare skin. Each time her eyes travelled across my skin, it felt as if my skin was on fire and the only way to cool it was to kiss her senseless. "I was expecting a massive dragon tattoo or something. I'm disappointed, Samuel. You're not as badarse as the vibe you give off."
I smirk. "Is that so? Well, I'll have you know, I do have one."
"Please, I've seen and explored every inch of you, you don't have a tattoo," she says, rolling her eyes and pushing me away. Liking the challenge of being able to prove the great Martha Fletcher wrong, I lift my left arm and place it so that the side of my wrist was right up her face. "Yes, Sam, gorgeous arm. Get it out of my face."
"Look closer," I tell her. She levels a sceptical glare on me but does as she's told. Her eyes scan the area but she still doesn't see it. Eventually, I point the tattoo out to her. "It's there."
Martha grabs my arm and pulls it closer to her as she sits upright to inspect it. I try to ignore the way the bed sheet now pools at her hips, leaving her breasts exposed but I can't help myself. Scooting closer to her, I loop my free arm around her waist and caress her naked skin, making her shiver under my touch.
"Stop that," she tells me, swatting my hand away from her waist. "Sam, I think this is a freckle, not a tattoo. It's tiny."
"It's a micro tattoo of the letter 'E' in Morse code," I explain. To the uneducated eye, it looks like a dot but to the nerds in the room, it's more than just a dot. It's a letter. More importantly, it's the initial of someone very close to me. "I had it done two summers ago after finding out Evie is my sister and not just the hired help that raised me as a kid. She's always been there for Dan and me and I wanted her to know how much I appreciate her."
Martha swooned slightly, leaning forward to plan a kiss on my lips. "It still looks like a freckle, though."
Having had enough of her teasing, I pounce towards her, pinning her to the bed underneath me. Planting kiss after kiss on her face, my lips go to her neck, continuing their assault to her collarbone and then further south. Martha's giggles turned to moans quickly, her fingers tangling in my hair as I neared the valley between her breasts. With a heavy sigh against her skin, I felt Martha arch towards me, her legs intertwining with mine.
"I think it's time for breakfast now," I announce, abruptly getting up. Never one to take anything lying down- apart from what we were about to do five seconds ago- Martha glared at me and began to protest, saying that it was ungentlemanly of me to begin something but not finish it. "Well, it was ungirlfriendly of you to make fun of my sentimental tattoo. Now that you've been punished, I'm going to go and make breakfast."
"You know, punishing me would be spanking me," Martha counters. When I blink at her, she groans and starts to climb out of bed, not caring that I can see her totally naked. In fact, Martha was one of the few women I knew who prefers to be in her birthday suit around me, never hiding her body from me. Going to the wardrobe, she pushes the door to my side open and reaches in for one of my t-shirts. Pulling it over her head, it falls to her mid-thigh as she combs out her blonde locks and ties it back with the hair tie she kept on the bedside table. Passing me, she runs down the stairs. "Hurry up and make me some damn breakfast. Then we can get back to having a super lazy Sunday. Or if you're lucky, a super sexy Sunday."
I was just about to agree with her when I heard her scream at the top of her lungs. Panic surged through me and I ran down the stairs, missing a few and banging into the walls until I was finally in the kitchen. Martha was stood there with her hands crossed over her chest, staring at something opposite her. Following her gaze, I see my sister-in-law, Sophie Whitaker, sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping on a mug of coffee while holding her baby on her lap.
"I don't suppose there's a point in asking if either of you want to come to the park with Léa and me," she muttered. When I glared at her, Sophie laughed and drained her cup, setting it down on the saucer and getting to her feet. Placing Léa in her pram, Sophie kicked off the safety lock and pushed the pram towards the door where I stood. "Just so you know, when Dan owned this place, I'm pretty sure we had sex on that breakfast bar."
Once Sophie was out the door, I exhaled the sigh I'd been holding.
"Your brother used to own this house?" Martha asked, her voice far too calm for my liking. Did she not just experience what I had to? I nod in response. "And he screwed Sophie on the breakfast bar?"
"So it would seem."
Martha pouted in thought. "Awkward. Do you think they had sex int he bathroom too?"
"Knowing those two," I being, "the likelihood is quite high. I doubt there's a room in this whole house that hasn't had to bear witness to their rampant sex life."
"I think I lost me appetite," Martha declared. After a long pause, she smiles at me. "Want to go back to my place and have sex in every room there?"
I laugh. "I think we did that last week."
"And your point being?"
OK, so it's safe to say that they totally did the deed.
1. Dan pushed Sam into a glass door?! (I actually semi-based this on what my older sister did to me once.)
2. Sam has a tiny tattoo. It's literally a dot. About this size- .
3. Tattoos- yay or nay?
4. Um, Sophie, stop with the oversharing!
5. They are totally going back to Martha's house. Aren't they?