Chapter 20 Theo #2
My face is heating up. Why the hell does he have to be so bloody comfortable talking about this stuff?
It’s excruciating. It’s ten o’clock on a Sunday morning, and I’m trying to enjoy my bacon sarnie, and I do not want to talk about sex with a guy I’m not even intimate with (well, not that intimate).
Jesus. I didn’t even talk about sex with Jonathan, and I was sleeping with him.
I don’t want to be disingenuous here. I really don’t.
I mean, there’s no point in pretending nothing happened when it clearly did.
No matter how uncomfortable I am acknowledging it.
And even if I tried to be coy, Theo wouldn’t be having any of it.
I pick up my mug of tea and grow very interested in its contents.
‘I would like to think,’ I say carefully to my tea, ‘that we would have come to our senses last night when we got home, and left things at just a kiss.’
He laughs. ‘Just a kiss? Jesus, Belle. You must get a lot more action than I thought if that was just a kiss for you. That wasn’t a kiss. That was foreplay. If I’d had my wits about me, I’d have untied that slinky little dress and got you naked before we got through my front door.’
He lifts my foot over his thigh and puts it down so it’s lying in the warm, muscular, and very hairy valley between his legs.
Good Lord. My toes are so close to his junk.
If I slunk down in my seat just a little, I could definitely reach his penis.
Honestly, this guy has no boundaries. I must put some of my Brené Brown books by his bed.
But he’s picking up my other foot to give it the Rolls Royce treatment, so I withhold my criticism.
Even though having our legs entwined like this reminds me of last night on the dance floor, when I couldn’t get close enough to him.
I decide not to piss on his party by telling him my dress had so much tit tape keeping it over my boobs that nothing would have been slipping off me. I still have sticky strips on my skin, even after my shower this morning.
‘Look, Romeo. It was very… hot. Okay? It was hot. I admit it. We were into it. But I would not have had sex with you. Maybe you would have tried, but I would have said no. And meant it.’
I nod my head firmly to underline my stance in my own mind, because what I’ve said is less the truth and more what I hope would have happened. I hope I’d have had the wherewithal to stay away from Theo’s bed. But honestly?
I’m not sure.
‘You tell yourself that, Belle. I’m pretty sure you were teeing yourself up for a giant orgasm when we were dancing. Maybe I’m being a delusional arsehole, but it seems to me you wanted it as much as I did.’
‘I’m not saying I didn’t want it.’
God, I still want it. And I’m not happy with myself. But unfortunately my pep talk to myself this morning has been overshadowed somewhat by Theo’s blue t-shirt, and beard, and the sensation of his hairy legs against my bare skin, and the magic ministrations of his hands to my feet.
I clarify. I owe him that much. ‘I was, for want of a better phrase, into it. But I don’t do that. I don’t have sex with people I’m not in a relationship with. So I would have said no to your’—I grit my teeth—‘tempting offer to go to bed with you.’
‘And what? Gone to bed alone and got yourself off?’
He’s impossible. ‘Probably, yeah.’ In fact, that’s exactly what I did once I’d put him to bed, but he does not need to know that.
He pushes his cap up slightly, and we stare at each other.
‘You do know casual sex is okay, Nora. Like, it’s not a sin, or anything. And it can be great. Especially when there’s good chemistry, which I’m telling you, we have.’
‘I know that. It’s just that, for me, sex is something I equate with a loving relationship. With feeling—’
He groans. ‘Don’t say it.’
‘—safe.’
Like with Jonathan, when he held me in his arms, and gazed at me with those gorgeous baby blues, and the intimacy and connection of it felt like nothing I’d ever known. I don’t want some poor imitation of that, thank you very much. It would be too depressing. I’m sure it would leave me flat.
He slaps his hand over his face before dragging it downwards. ‘So you haven’t fucked anyone since you broke up with Jonathan?’
I flinch. ‘Obviously not, because I haven’t dated anyone else. And I don’t like that word, by the way.’
‘Fuck? You use it enough.’
‘I don’t like it as a verb.’ I shrug my shoulders defensively. ‘I find it… confronting.’
He grins. ‘Do you, now. Well, I find it hot. But okay. So you haven’t got laid since Jonathan. When was that?’
‘Seven months ago.’
He whistles. ‘Jesus, Belle. No wonder you’re uptight. You should let someone take care of you. As in, not hearts and flowers, but you just need a good f—shag. Y’know?’
‘I’m doing just fine, thank you.’
‘You’re not, baby. You’re wound tight like a fucking spring. And you know what that means.’
I sigh at his dirty grin. ‘I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’
‘It means when you let go, you’ll fucking explode.’
‘I can take care of my needs just fine, thank you.’
‘I’m going to park that visual just now, because I can’t handle it, but it’s not the same. You need someone who knows what they’re doing, and you’ll go off like a firework.’
He swallows.
I swallow.
‘And I really think that person should be me.’ He holds my foot with one hand and moves his other hand up my calf. Squeezing. Kneading. In a physio, rather than a sexual, way, but it feels bloody good.
Right. I need to take control of this conversation. Show him where I really stand, so he’ll get the message.
‘Look. You’re a gorgeous-looking guy, Theo.
Obviously. And yes, I’m attracted to you.
Very attracted. I think I gave that game away last night.
But I’m not interested in what you’re offering, because even though I can tell you’d be very good at what you do, I don’t just want sex.
’ I take a breath, bracing myself. ‘Jonathan’s the only person I’ve ever slept with.
Okay? He’s—I lost my virginity to him, and I still love him, and I love what we had.
And I’m not giving up on it. And I don’t want to sully that by having casual sex with anyone else.
Even you. It’s not my style. I’m sorry.’
Theo shifts forward in his seat, and my toe touches the fabric of his shorts. Oh, Lord. Too close. He pulls off his cap and glares at me while he squeezes my ankle.
‘Jonathan Holmes is the only bloke you’ve ever shagged.’
‘Yeah. That can’t be a huge surprise to you—we were together nine years.’
He rakes his hand through his damp, messy hair and looks heavenward.
‘Jesus fucking Christ. Belle, I don’t want to be that guy, but you get that he’s got a new girlfriend?
Right? He’s shagging Tit Wank Barbie every chance he gets right now, and he has you pining after him and offering to stay celibate on the off-chance he changes his mind and comes back to you for more.
Have some self respect and stop being such a fucking martyr. ’
My eyes fill with tears and I clench my jaw so hard I may break teeth.
‘You’re such a dick. Let me go. You know I want to get back with him. You know that’s my end game.’
‘I’m not letting you go. Listen to me. I know what you want.
Don’t worry, I’m not offering to be your Mr Safety with a Georgian rectory and a fucking AGA.
I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve for you to put your life on hold.
You have needs. You’re gorgeous. I find you so sexy I can barely function around you.
‘You’re a beautiful woman, Belle, and even if you want to spend the rest of your life with Mr-I-Fuck-Like-a-Carthorse, which by the way is a fucking travesty, you should consider trying a few things out beforehand.
So you know what you’re missing. So you know what’s out there, before you ride off into the sunset with him for a second time. ’
I cannot believe this guy. He’s so rude, he’s so cocky, and he’s so bloody offensive about Jonathan. ‘Fuck you, Theo. He doesn’t—he’s not a cart horse. He’s lovely. And handsome. And sexy. And he knows exactly what he’s doing. Thank you for your concern.’
‘Oh yeah? I bet he’s a carthorse. I bet a big night for him is leaving the lights on during sex.’
I gasp. ‘Seriously? And you’re a stud, I suppose, in this scenario? A prize stallion?’ He’s such a dick.
He smiles, and it’s plain obnoxious how killer a smile he has. ‘You’ve got it, baby.’
‘Well, I’ve seen mares being covered, buddy, and let me tell you, those stallions make it all about them. I’m not interested in a quick wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.’
‘I promise you, Belle.’ He lays my foot down next to my other one, widening his legs so they drop between them, and squeezes his legs so he’s giving my feet and calves a kind of thigh hug.
It’s like the reflexology equivalent of a happy ending, and it’s disconcertingly delightful.
‘There’s nothing quick about me. I’d make it long, and slow, and it still wouldn’t be enough for you. ’
‘Why are you so vile? And so coarse?’
I wiggle my legs, but he has them in a vice.
He puts his hands down on the tops of my feet to hold them in place while he gazes at me.
There’s something about the intimacy of having our legs together that makes me wonder how it would have been to wake up with him this morning. My limbs entangled with his.
‘I’m not proud of much, but I’m proud of how I can make women feel.
For me, there’s nothing more sensual or more of a turn on than seeing a woman overcome with desire, her eyelids heavy, her mouth swollen, other parts of her swollen too, her nipples hard, and knowing I can make her feel much, much better.
Knowing I can give her exactly what she needs. I fucking love it, Belle.’
His eyes are darkening, and his hands are building heat as they rub against my skin, and heat is building in other parts of my body, too.
Because, come on. All I have to do is look at this guy to know he’s good at sex.
And experienced. For all my insults to him, I have no doubt in my mind about that.
‘I’m sure you do.’ I clear my throat and try to tear my eyes away from him. ‘But I’m not sure that, for me, personally, sex can really work without love. It’d be missing a big piece.’
‘I can’t answer that. I’ve never been in love.
Not even close. But I will say I believe chemistry is more important than love.
What I mean is, I imagine you can be completely in love with someone and still the sex isn’t great.
I mean, it’s nice, intimate, but not, you know, fireworks.
But if you have great chemistry with someone, then believe me, that can be fucking transcendent, and you’ll be so busy having orgasms you really won’t be thinking about the L-word. ’
I stare at him. At his mouth, more precisely. ‘Allegedly.’
His lips curve up into a grin, but it’s wistful rather than dirty.
‘Allegedly. But look. I’m not a fucking charity case. If you don’t want what I’m offering, I’ll just keep hanging out with my fist till we’ve finished this little arrangement. And you keep doing you. No hard feelings, Belle. Thanks for breakfast.’
He releases my feet and swings his leg over, getting up off the sofa. He squeezes my shoulder as he heads back inside, and despite the sunshine, my legs feel cold.
Exposed.
Bereft.