In Drunken Matrimony ✔️

Thirty - And They Lived In Holy Matrimony

Oʟɪᴠᴇʀ

"Please, keep going."

"I'm tired."

"But it feels so good." I groan, eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm not a fucking masseuse, Oliver." But she continues, pressing her thumbs firmly into the knot of muscle at my shoulder. She rotates them, dragging another moan of relief from me, and I feel her giggle.

She sits astride me, perched on my butt and thighs pressed into my sides. At first, she was not welcoming of my suggestion to give me a massage, but when I reminded her that it's her fault my back is so stiff, she tutted and told me to remove my top. It's not a lie - I'm not used to sharing a bed, and especially not with someone who fucking starfishes so that I barely have an inch of room. We're upgrading to a super king size pronto.

"Last ten seconds." She warns, pressing the heels of her palms against my neck.

"God, this is better than sex." I tell her, and she slaps me lightly against the back of my head. "That wasn't an insult sweetheart."

"I should hope not." She says, pressing her lips against my skin before rolling off. I turn, opening my arms so she can curl beside me, her fingers instantly sliding between the waiting spaces of mine. "Dad's visiting soon."

I let a short silence ensue. "Do you want me to be here?"

"Of course." She replies without a moments doubt, pecking my lips with a chaste kiss. "He might be a little mad, but I'd much prefer to deal with him than mum."

"He might be okay with it." I say, and I mean it wholeheartedly.

Helena, despite her many flaws, has been particularly helpful the past few days. She's monitored the stock profiles of Evans' incorporate, and nothing seems too detrimental. The companies owned are still thriving, money remaining in a healthy positive equity, and so there have been no threats to buy out the company shares from other competitors. The conversations, naturally, have gone completely over my head, but the pointed glance I received from Helena when she told me to expect a pretty sum at the end of the month told me everything I need to know.

No, there is more chance that her father with be rather disappointed with the public humiliation him and his wife have had to face. The damage to their image will undoubtedly scorn them far more than any damage to their business. Well, that and the fact they don't actually legally own any of it. They are simply the name, with not a single claim to the profits or running of employment. As such, Daniel wasted no time in declaring himself CEO, and such has left his relationship with Helena, Hallie and myself rather amicable.

"He'll just be angry at what I said about mum." Hallie says, and that I don't argue. Pictures of the sisters and their mother have been printed on every tabloid for days now, with rather brazen headlines that suggest she is nothing more than a control freak, manipulative bitch. The suggestion to have my favourite - Hitched and Ditched - be framed, was not so fondly received.

"He loves you." I tell her. "I love you."

She grins, looking up at me through a tangle of lashes with a light blush blooming across her nose. "Who knew you could be such a dream?"

"I'm not too bad at this boyfriend shit, huh?"

"Rather good, actually." She taps my shoulder and then climbs from the bed, me soon to follow. "Put a top on, he probably won't be fond of your partial nudity. Or that." She nods at the tattoo peeking above the waistband of my jeans.

"What, is he not a fan of Scarface?" I ask her, taking her hand to lead her downstairs, swiping up my t-shirt with the other.

Her deadpan expression suggests she's not fond of my joke. "It's getting lasered."