Chapter 58

Chris

A nice, relaxed Friday evening in with Evan and Ryan. My son doesn’t seem to want to go out with his friends much anymore, and even though I should be happy about that, I’m starting to worry. I don’t want him to dedicate his life to just keeping his mother company.

Ryan’s been here for two weeks, since the day I came home from the hospital.

He takes Evan to school in the mornings, then drops me off at the café – where we’re still trying to sort out the wreckage – and then he goes off to training.

In the evenings, he comes back here to be with us.

Dinners, TV, and steamy nights under the covers.

I’m getting used to all of this: to his presence, to this new ‘normal’ that I’m starting to like more and more every day. I know that it could all disappear at any moment, but I can’t bring up that topic with him. I don’t want my desperation to have all the answers to scare him off so early.

We sit down on the sofa, ready to put on yet another film, when someone knocks at the door. Evan presses pause, then gets up and goes to answer.

“Hey, family!” I feel Ryan stiffen immediately next to me at the sound of Martin’s voice. “I thought I’d swing by to say hello,” Martin walks in and stops a few paces from the sofa. “Oh. I see we’re still here.”

Ryan jumps up and stands in front of him.

“Where did you think I’d go?”

“I’m just surprised you’re still here.”

“Okay,” I say, getting up too. “Let’s just clear something up here.”

“There’s nothing to clear up,” Ryan says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “It’s all perfectly clear.”

Jesus Christ.

Martin looks at us for a few seconds, then turns to me. “He knows, right?”

“Of course. But it doesn’t look like that’s reassured him enough.”

“What do you want, then?” he asks Ryan, “A signed contract?”

“I’d rather you didn’t keep turning up.”

“Does me being here make you uncomfortable?”

“To be honest, yes.”

“Well, that’s your problem Mr Muscle.”

“What the fuck did you call me?” Ryan says, letting go of my shoulders to approach Martin threateningly.

“Mum, please do something!” Evan cries, grabbing my attention.

I sigh, deciding to intervene. I didn’t plan to get involved – I quite liked them fighting over me like that – but it’s not the nicest situation, especially for Evan.

“Come on, guys,” I say, stepping between them and placing my hands on their chests. “Let’s try and just clear up your…roles. Martin is Evan’s father. He comes round a lot – maybe too much, okay – but he’s part of the furniture. And that’s not going to change. And Ryan is…well, he’s…”

“The one you’re fucking,” Martin suggests.

“Martin! Not in front of Evan!”

“What, like I haven’t heard you?”

Oh God.

“Maybe it’s best if I speak. Dad, you’re here way too much, and I’d prefer if you stayed away a little bit more. At least for Mum, now that she and Ryan are, let’s say, seeing each other.”

“Seeing each other?” Martin asks, one eyebrow shooting up. “He basically lives here.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business as long as you’re involved.”

“It’s fine by me. Since he’s been here, I’ve got to school on time, Mum’s happy, and she’s been drinking less.”

“Evan!”

“What? That’s what’s happened.”

“And you?” Martin turns to Ryan. “Don’t you have anything to add?”

“Are you serious, mate?”

“What are your intentions with her?”

“I definitely don’t have to tell you.”

“I’m not so sure about that…”

“Can we all just please calm down a bit?” I jump in.

“I don’t like you, O’Connor.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“For now I’m keeping an eye on you,” he says, sitting on the sofa and crossing his legs. “What are we watching?”

“Are you kidding?” Ryan asks.

“There’s some chicken left, if you want,” Evan adds.

“Is he actually serious?” Ryan asks me.

“Looks like it.”

“Move over,” Ryan scoffs, plonking himself down next to him.

“You’re taking up too much space.”

“You’re the one sitting on the wrong sofa.”

I can’t quite stifle a smile – neither can my heart. Seeing them all here, in my house, ready to share this screwed-up family, to accept it (or at least, put up with it) just for me.

“Come here,” Ryan says, tearing me away from my thoughts, and I shuffle over to him.

I lean my head on his shoulder and tuck my legs underneath me. I start to enjoy the atmosphere: this family and this new reality. I need to get used to it, and quickly.

The evening carries on this way until Martin decides it’s time to go home. Evan heads up to his room, and I start to load the dishwasher.

“I don’t like that guy.”

“That guy is Evan’s dad.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“I told you, he’s gay.”

He comes over to me and leans against the countertop, his arms either side of me.

“I can’t stand that he…”

“Look, I’ve slept with other guys, okay?”

“Please don’t tell me that. I’d rather pretend it’s not true.”

I turn to look at him. “Are you jealous, Ryan O’Connor?”

“Fuck yes.”

I smile, satisfied.

“Come on, don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” I lie, unable to contain the joy plastered across my face.

“You like it, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You like the fact I can’t stand the idea of this body with anyone else’s.”

“This body is mine. I guess I could let you borrow it sometimes.”

“Don’t joke around, Christine. Don’t provoke me.”

“Why? What would happen?” I challenge, one eyebrow raised.

Ryan grabs my hips and throws me over his shoulder.

“What the hell…? Put me down!” I demand, but he keeps hold of my legs firmly.

“I warned you,” he says, heading for the stairs.

“You’re an idiot, O’Connor!”

His hand smacks against my bottom.

“Hey!”

“Don’t keep provoking me, or it’ll be even worse for you.”

“Ooh, I’m shaking…”

We get into my bedroom and he puts me down.

“You’re just a…” He shuts me up with his mouth, pressing me against the wall.

His kisses are rough. They clear my mind, taking away all my strength, leaving me breathless. My legs give way, my whole body giving itself up to him.

Ryan O’Connor is demanding. He wants everything, and he doesn’t want to wait for it; and I don’t object. I don’t even try.

“What do we have here?” he whispers, pushing his erection against me.

“Fuck you and your orgasms.”

He smiles, pleased with himself, as his hands slide under the waistband of my trousers, sending a shiver down to my thighs. He tugs them down and I stand there, defenceless, in front of him. He pulls his shirt over his head and pushes himself against me.

“Now let’s see if I can make you forget about all those other guys.”

“There weren’t that many.”

“Still too many.”

He slides down my body as I lean back against the wall; his breath tickles between my thighs, as he slides his finger under my panties, slipping them slowly over my legs with his warm hands.

He lifts himself back up to my thighs, and I tremble under the warmth of his skin. I hold my breath, waiting to feel him inside me – but he has other ideas. He throws my legs over his shoulders and stands up effortlessly, with me on top of him.

“What…?” I ask, shifting my weight nervously.

He pushes me back against the wall, keeping me up.

“I want to show you what all these muscles are for,” he says, before his tongue proves him right.

I’m balancing on his shoulders, his face between my thighs, his hands grabbing tightly onto my arse.

My God, I could almost come at the thought of it.

Ryan pins me up against the wall, strong and secure; he takes what he wants, without a word, and I can’t do anything but tug at his hair, pushing him deeper inside me.

The heat of his breath ripples through my body, his tongue exploring, marking his territory. I give myself over to him completely.

“This is just mine, now,” he whispers into my pulsing clit, before plunging once again inside me.

And with his strength, with his desire, and all his muscles, Ryan O’Connor is telling me exactly that: now, I’m his. And I don’t plan on fighting it.

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