Chapter 17
Draped naked over Gareth isn’t a bad way to fall asleep every night. We’ve spent another full week screwing like wild animals. I even got to try my hand at spanking him earlier tonight. I can’t believe the rush I got when I had him push me against a wall and fuck me.
Good God, how am I ever going to quit this arrangement when it only gets better and better?
And it’s not about having control over him that gets me off.
It’s the strength he displays in his submission.
Anyone can yield from a position of weakness, but to truly surrender entirely of his own free will simply because he wants to…
That is what’s so freaking sexy. He’s so unexpected but wonderfully perfect for where I’m at in my life. I can’t believe he’s mine.
I sigh contentedly and lift my head to look up at him, the blue light from his closet pouring in, illuminating his smouldering features.
We’re in bed early because Gareth has a game tomorrow.
I learned quickly that he needs his sleep on Friday nights, but I can’t stop myself from asking a simple question.
“How did you get this?” I ask, propping myself up on his chest and running my finger down the ridge of his imperfect nose.
Before he answers, I stick my finger in his mouth and wordlessly will him to suck.
He sucks.
I smile.
“Football accident,” he replies after my finger retreats.
He watches me hungrily as I bring the digit to my mouth and suck off his spit. There’s not a thing I’m uncomfortable with around Gareth anymore. He’s turned me from an insecure, emotional wreck of a divorcée into a sex goddess who’s currently in love with life. “What happened?”
His Adam’s apple slides up and down his throat as he adds, “I took a boot to the face during my first season with Man U.”
“Ouch. Did it hurt?” I ask, propping my chin on my hands.
He shrugs. “Might have hurt if I hadn’t liked it so much.”
My brows lift. “You enjoy pain outside of the bedroom?”
He runs his hand slowly up my spine, his thick, rough fingers causing a riot of goosebumps to erupt all over my body.
“No,” he replies and splays his hand flat on my arm. “But I do enjoy hurting my dad.”
“How did your injury hurt your dad?”
“Because he couldn’t get to me. He couldn’t fuss over me, or help me, or be any part of the doctor appointments.”
“Why not?” I ask, frowning curiously.
“He refuses to return to Manchester.”
“Do you know why?”
Gareth shakes his head. “I’m sure it has something to do with my mum. Something he’ll never share because he’s a selfish sod.”
I eye him dubiously. “And you’re Mr. Sharer?”
His relaxed face hardens. “I’ve shared more with you than anyone in my life. I’m bloody well sharing right now, aren’t I?”
His tone has me narrowing my eyes. “I know how you are with other people. The press. You give them nothing.”
His body feels like stone beneath me. “I thought you don’t research me.”
“I don’t.”
“Then how do you know I don’t share anything with the press?”
I pause, trying to decide if my reply will give too much away. “My…roommate tells me.”
“Roommate,” he repeats with a mean laugh. “That’s the first I’ve heard of that.” His tone is scathing, his relaxed mood completely vanished.
“What do you mean?” I ask, bracing myself for his response.
“I had no idea you have a fucking roommate because I know nothing about you, Sloan.”
It pisses me off that he called me Sloan. He knows I prefer Treacle when I’m here. I sit up, not giving a shit that my boobs are on full display. There’s nothing sexy about this moment right now. “I’ve shared a lot with you. I freaking shared my entire upbringing with you a couple weeks ago!”
He sits up with me, his eyes dark and angry. Scary even. “But what about your real life?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you do when you disappear on me for a week?”
“I’m working!”
“Bullshit. You worked today. You’re working tomorrow. I know what your work looks like.”
“What are you insinuating?”
“That I know nothing about you, except for how you like to be fucked! Are you out fucking other guys like this? Asking them to bend over so you can whip them like a sadistic whore?”
I slap him. It wasn’t a conscious decision. It certainly wasn’t something I did to bring him pleasure. It was something I did to make him hurt as much as his words hurt me.
My palm tingles as his cheek erupts with the outline of my hand. “You think I’m a sadist?” I hate the trembling in my voice. I hate that I care what he thinks of me. This isn’t how we are supposed to be.
“I think there’s a reason we fuck the way we do and neither of us are truly owning up to it.”
“I don’t want to own up to it,” I reply, turning and throwing my feet off the side of the bed. “That isn’t what our arrangement is about. We have boundaries for a reason!”
“I get it, Sloan. We have a deal. You’re in control and I’m not.”
“Exactly!” I roar and stand up, turning my angry eyes on him. “I’m in control and you get the freedom to not think. It was a win-win here, Gareth. I thought we were both enjoying this.”
“We were!” he exclaims, thrusting a hand through his hair and making no fucking sense.
“Then what the hell is the problem?” I cry.
“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I don’t even know how your lips taste!”
His response knocks the wind out of me. He’s deathly serious from his spot on the bed, his bare chest heaving with anger. His muscles tensed in frustration. Veins protruding down his arms like angry lines on a map.
This is not what I expected from him. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what I expected. A terrified part of my mind thought he found out about Sophia, but all he wants are my lips? He wants to kiss me?
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask.
He exhales like it hurts. “You hold this enormous part of yourself away from me and it drives me mad.”
I huff out an incredulous laugh. “If that’s what you want, then maybe you should be a man and ask for it instead of picking a damn fight!”
His eyes fly wide. “I can’t ask for it because those aren’t our rules! You decide everything. I just…submit.”
The word coming out of his mouth looks painful for him to say.
Honestly, I don’t like hearing him say it.
I know that we’re in some version of a dominant and submissive situation, but it doesn’t feel like that to me.
It feels like a luxury. Like an arrangement we were both enjoying.
But if he’s not enjoying it because he can’t kiss me, it’s not okay.
Part of my job is to make sure he’s okay.
I’m also nowhere near ready for our arrangement to be over.
The thought of Gareth pulling away because of this hard-line has anxiety climbing in my chest.
“Well, you can kiss me,” I utter, my voice soft in the quiet room.
“Is that an order?” Gareth asks, his shoulders tense and full of brooding. Full of…Gareth.
“No,” I reply quickly. That’s not how this should happen. I can’t command him to kiss me. If it’s important enough for him to pick a fight with me about, it needs to be on his terms. “In fact, I don’t want you to do it now. I want you to do it when you want to do it. When it feels right for you.”
“That’s not part of our deal,” he states, clearly confused.
“I know. If you don’t like the idea, tell me and we can forget the whole thing.”
“I like it.” His voice is soft, his eyes downcast, like he’s ashamed to be saying these words.
I nod slowly. “Then a kiss is yours. Whenever you want it, I’ll accept it.”
He nods and stares down at the empty side of the bed.
“Do you really think I’m sadistic?”
“No,” he croaks painfully and slides off the edge of the bed. “I just said that to hurt you. I think you’re incredible.”
I cross my arms over my chest, still upset over the tone he took with me. Maybe I’m not giving him enough attention after we do what we do. Aftercare is an important factor in unconventional relationships.
“I don’t want anything to change between us, Treacle,” he says, staring back at me like I’m a wild animal that’s going to bolt.
“Are you sure?” I ask, needing the confirmation again.
He nods, his eyes full of sadness and shame and a whole mess of emotions I’m too exhausted to dissect. “I’m sorry I said all of that. I didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”
I stare back at him. I do know because I know Gareth, sexually and emotionally. I might not know some basic things about his life, but I know who he is. I know he’s not Cal. He’s not manipulating me or trying to control me. He just has feelings.
My voice is soft when I whisper, “I need you to hold me.”
“Anything,” he answers on a breath. In two enormous strides, he pulls me into his arms, his lips raining kisses in my hair. “I’m sorry, Treacle. I’m so sorry.”
I nod against his chest. “I believe you,” I soothe.
I soothe him because we do know each other despite what he says. We know each other better than I’m prepared to admit.
I wake in the middle of the night and find myself completely wrapped around Sloan’s naked body.
I thought she was going to go home after our fight, but she didn’t.
And even though she offered me something I didn’t realise I was longing for, there was still a sense of uneasiness between us as we went to sleep.
Perhaps makeup sex would have helped with the unsettled feeling.
Instead, she climbed into bed, turned away from me, and fell asleep without another word.
Now she’s woken me up because she’s moving beneath the blankets. At first, I think she’s awake and interested in that makeup sex after all. But as I unfold myself from her body and sit up to look down at her, it’s clear she’s completely asleep.
Her hips mindlessly swirl in slow, tiny motions. A soft moan escapes her lips. I swear I’ve died and gone to Heaven because it dawns on me that she’s having a sex dream.