Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
RENLEY
“So that’s what sex is like,” I say as I slip into Theo’s bed after cleaning up for the second time.
He chuckles. “Why are you asking me? This is the first time I’ve ever had sex like this.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” He shakes his head. “I’ve had my fair share of sexual encounters, including a threesome, but nothing has turned me on like this, nothing has made me be able to go again that quickly, and never in my life have I had three goddamn orgasms in a few hours.
So if this is what sex is really like, you’re not leaving my fucking sight. ”
He pulls me into his chest and wraps his arm around me protectively, letting his hand rest on my hip.
When I left to go clean up, I slipped on one of his shirts, which is what I’m wearing now. I love how it smells like him and how big it is, and how he pushes up the hemline so he can still have skin-on-skin contact with me.
I swirl my finger over his chest as I say, “Maybe because it’s been a little bit for you, you’re more randy than usual.”
“Nope,” he says with full confidence. “It’s you, love. I’m so fucking attracted to you that even when you’re near, I can feel my stomach flip with excitement.”
God, he’s making me smile every freaking chance he gets.
“Same,” I say.
“Remember when you denied my proposal? Think about how we could be married right now, not sneaking around. Regretting it now, aren’t you?”
I laugh. “No. I wasn’t about to marry a stranger.”
“Instead you fucked him.”
“Hey, I know you now, so you’re no longer a stranger in my head.”
“No, I’m your boyfriend.”
Loving that he’s so proud of that, I kiss his chest. “You are.”
“Maybe you can take me out on that fishing date this weekend. I know we talked about it, but we never solidified anything.”
“You seriously want to go fishing?”
“I do. When was the last time you went?”
“A while ago,” I answer honestly. “I didn’t really get to go in the spring because everyone was getting ready for tourist season, so I was running around, taking on projects here and there that business owners and renters needed done for their properties.
And then this summer, well, I’ve been busy, as you know.
Haven’t really had much time for myself. ”
“Then take the time,” he says. “You’re going to burn out if you don’t take a moment for yourself.”
“I know, but I’m almost done with the shop. If I can just—”
“One day is not going to make or break you,” he says. “One day might actually energize you and get you across the finish line.” He squeezes my hip. “Come on, love. Take a day with me.”
I think about it for a moment, my mind warring with the idea because I honestly don’t know what it means to relax.
“What’s holding you back?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I clear my throat, feeling sort of shy about it.
“I’ve just been on the go for so long that sometimes I don’t remember what it means to slow down.
Do I enjoy fishing? Yes. Do I get to do it a lot?
No. It’s rare. If I went into the garage, I know my fishing gear would have spider webs on it right now.
But that’s just how it’s been. I’ve had to keep working, keep finding new jobs, overloading to the point that when I get home, I’m so exhausted, I just sleep.
So the term ‘relax,’ it doesn’t really make any sense.
Also…relaxing means I stop working and that means I can’t provide, which in turn makes me panic and feel guilty.
I just have to keep working. I have to stay afloat. ”
“Renley,” he says, shifting so I slide off his chest and we’re now facing each other.
“You can’t wear yourself thin like that.
And I know it’s easy for me to say, because I have had a very different life.
I don’t know what it means to have to fight to put food on the table, but what I do know is that if you don’t take a second to breathe, you’re going to break down.
” He cups my cheek. “And I won’t allow that. ”
“You don’t really have a say—”
“Going to stop you right there,” he says, growing serious.
“What we have going on between us is serious to me. There have been projects and ideals and morals that I’ve given a damn about over the years, things that have truly pinched at my stomach and made me work to make it better, despite my father telling me I was wasting my time.
But when I came here, something in me changed.
It wasn’t just a pinch in my stomach, it was a full-on ache when I met you.
I don’t think I’ve ever cared about anything as much in my life.
I care about you, I care about your success, I care about your well-being.
And I know that we’re still figuring things out and this is all new to both of us, but I’ll be damned if I sit by and watch that smile or the fight and spirit that I see in your eyes wither away.
You need to pace yourself. And if I can think of one reason that we were brought together, it’s because you need someone in your life looking out for you. And that someone is going to be me.”
That…wow…that sends a wave of relief through me, the kind of relief that I feel like I’ve been searching for ever since I was a teen out on that beach, searching for treasure and attempting to find something that would help put food on the table.
It’s the kind of relief that I’ve been craving for so long.
And he’s just willing and ready to give it to me.
I don’t know what to do with that other than…cry.
Tears well up in my eyes and I try to sniff them back, but it’s no use. The stress, the anxiety, the weight of the world comes crashing down around me as I snuggle into him, clinging on to this man that I was passionate about not needing. And yet I was so wrong. Because I need him.
I need his strength.
I need his humor.
I need his protection.
“I don’t know how this happened,” I say through my tears that he keeps trying to wipe away, but I don’t let him as I bury myself into his chest. “I don’t know why it happened.” I look up at him. “And I don’t know why you’ve been so persistent with me, but I’m grateful.”
Something flashes in his eyes, almost like…he feels guilt for a moment, but it’s quickly washed away when he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“I’m grateful you came into my life as well.” He kisses me again, his hand rubbing my back, and after a few seconds of us just holding each other, he asks, “So is it a date on Saturday?”
I nod. “It’s a date.”
Carefully, I tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone.
Theo is asleep.
Rupert is hopefully still passed out and blissfully unaware of what Theo and I have done in that room.
And I’m dying of thirst from the rigorous activities I’ve just participated in.
When I make it downstairs, I head toward the kitchen, where I open the fridge, looking for a drink, but only find a pitcher of lemonade. What is it with these guys and lemonade? Have they never had it before?
But what I find the most fascinating is that there isn’t a drop of alcohol in this fridge. Not an IPA, not a lager, nothing. Instead, there’s jam, boiled eggs, lemonade, and a bowl of oranges. Unsure why the oranges are in a bowl in the fridge, but there they are.
Smiling, I shut the fridge and, just for the hell of it, peek into the freezer.
No alcohol, no frozen pizzas, just some popsicles—those red, white, and blue rocket ones.
It’s so charming, it’s actually making my lips hurt from smiling.
“Looking for a late-night snack?”
“Jesus,” I startle, hand to chest as I find Theo, looking all kinds of sexy and rumpled, walking toward me.
“Looking for a drink.”
“I had water on the bedside table for you,” he says, walking up behind me, his body still warm as he loops his arms around my waist, his lips immediately finding my neck.
“I drank it all.”
“Mmmm…” is all he says as he tugs on my shirt, pulling up the hem so his hands grip my hips.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.
“Attempting to fuck you in my kitchen.” His hand slides across my stomach and then down between my legs. He dips two fingers along my clit and finds me already aroused. It only takes seconds with him, especially when he’s shirtless, warm, and needy.
“Rupert will walk in.”
“It’s three in the morning. Rupert is half dead, tongue hanging out, drooling all over his goddamn pillow.” Theo’s voice is low, almost scratchy, as he continues to kiss along my neck while his fingers gently rub against my clit.
I spread my legs, sinking into his chest, my ass pressing against his erection as he takes over.
“That’s it, love,” he whispers and then brings me to a chair in the kitchen. He sits down first and then pulls me down onto his lap. He grips the hem of my shirt and tears it over my head, leaving me completely naked in his kitchen. “This fucking body,” he whispers, kissing my shoulder.
He hooks my ankles with his feet and spreads my legs wide as he leans back and brings both hands to my front.
“You fucking ruin me in the best way,” he says as his hands cup both of my breasts. “And because you ruin me, I want you begging for my cock.”
He releases my breasts and then takes two fingers and gently circles them, never touching my nipple, just playing with me, spreading goosebumps all over my skin.
He drags them down my cleavage to my stomach and then slides them dangerously across my pubic bone.
My hips thrust up involuntarily before he repeats the process with my breasts, growing close, but never close enough.
The sensation is ripping through me, lighting me up, creating a wave of desire that rolls through me, the kind of need that has my legs spreading wider, my chest rising higher, and my skin tingling, pleading for more.
“Theo,” I gasp as he barely passes over my nipple. “Touch me.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re teasing.”
“Same thing,” he whispers while his thumb passes over my nipple.
“Fuck, yes, please, play with them.”
“Think you could come from me playing with your stunning tits?”