Chapter 25 #2
But I don’t think I’m ready for him to leave me for the next fortnight.
He’s heading back to London for Christmas to see his family while I stay behind.
Despite everything that’s gone down with Paul and my parents getting divorced, this past month since I left the Meadows has possibly been the happiest and freest I’ve ever felt since becoming famous.
And it is largely because of Christopher.
I had hoped he might invite me to join him.
But when he mentioned he’d be staying in the nursery room of his sister’s place, I realized it wouldn’t be viable.
Lee had also helped me realize my research into buying a property in London was being driven by addictive impulses.
It was my need to have Christopher around, rather than the idea of building a future together or expanding my property portfolio.
“Not at all. Actually, that reminds me...”
I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a small box.
“I wanted to give you one of your Christmas presents now.”
I slide the box across the table and his cheeks lower along with his smile when he opens the box to reveal a platinum Tiffany ring.
“Oh my God, I can’t.” Christopher’s eyes blink away the shock as he closes the lid and slides it back to me.
“You don’t like it?” Fear rises in my throat. “It’s too much, isn’t it. I can take it back.” I shove the box back into my jacket as my cheeks start to burn up.
How stupid am I.
To think he’d be taken by the ring, like John with the watch.
“No, I like it. It’s just… That ring probably costs more than the rent on my apartment.” The touch of his hand on mine slows my pulsing heart, but sets my mind racing.
His apartment.
That’s another conversation I want to have. Need to have at some point. But I don’t want to in case I push him away. I don’t want to lose the status quo, but I also want more. For him to be my boyfriend rather than dating. For him to move into my room, rather than staying in the guest room.
I shake away the thought, focusing on the topic at hand.
“You know I don’t care about money. And wasn’t it you who joked about me being your sugar daddy?” I nudge him with my elbow as I wink.
“But I can’t afford to get you a present like that. Not on my salary.” His brow furrows as his lips remain horizontal.
“Do you know what my favorite present has ever been?” I reach for his hand. “It was that customized skateboard you got me. Not this watch my label got me. Not the truck I was gifted for my last birthday. The skateboard.”
The corner of his mouth rises as his hand grips mine.
“Here you go.” The bartender passes our drinks over as I quickly pull my hand away.
“Cheers.” I mimic Christopher as he holds up his drink to mine.
“Maybe lay off the attempts at an English accent.” Christopher lets out a chuckle and clinks my glass, both of us taking a gulp before returning to the conversation.
“It’s no fun working hard to earn all this money if I can’t indulge. And I’ll be damned if Paul gets access to it rather than the people I care about. Plus, if you say no to this,” I say, pulling the box back out of my jacket, “then you’ll definitely say no to the other present I got you.”
Wednesday
My eyes widen in sheer disbelief as Christopher walks into my bedroom holding a surfboard under his arm. He hands it to me as I launch from my bed and up to him.
“No fucking way.”
“Do you like it?” He holds the board out in front of him for me to take.
“Oh my God, this is fucking sick.” The bedroom light reflects off the wavy gleam coming from the board. The dark-brown wood makes the ivory-white sound wave in the middle pop out.
“What’s the sound wave?” I rack my brain, running through all my songs, but don’t recognize it.
“Guess.” Christopher’s mischievous smile appears across his face.
“You can call me Al?”
My gaze flicks between the surfboard and the skateboard he got me, mounted on the wall above my acoustic guitar.
“Nope.” He takes the board back from me to put it down on the bed. “He was a skater boy.”
The way Christopher looks at me as he says skater boy, I know it’s over. That my attempts to honor Christopher’s wish to go slow, to not rush things, have been completely thrown out the window.
“I love you.”
I lean into him to kiss him, not even waiting for him to respond.
I don’t want to separate my mouth from his, not even for a second, to allow him to question anything.
Instead, I rip his T-shirt apart as his hands pull down my briefs.
I only stop kissing him to drop to my knees and take his cock in my mouth.
I push him down on the bed, his abs rigid against my hand, while I use the other to work his shaft.
My tongue delicately dances around his foreskin and up to the opening.
His fingers run through my hair, forcing my head back and forth.
Damn, he tastes so divine.
Christopher pushes me back, gets up, and guides me to the glass door.
He pins my hands above my head as I arch my back, and he slides his cock inside me.
The pain gives way to pleasure as his mouth meets my neck.
The sunlight catches the side of his forehead while his dick thrusts harder and deeper.
His hand moves down to my cock, and his wrist matches the thrust of his dick in and out of me.
God, he feels so good inside me.
“Take me,” I say, and he spins me around.
He lifts me up as I wrap my legs around him and guide his cock back inside. His mouth meets mine, his appetite is insatiable as he continues to plow my hole.
“You want it?” he asks, pulling his lips from mine.
His domineering tone makes me succumb to desire even more.
I want it all. His taste. His thrusts. His load.
“Give it to me,” I plead.
My cock rubs up and down against his abs while he continues to thrust deeper and deeper into me, driving us onward into a state of ecstasy. He sets a rhythm that’s as merciless as it is exquisite.
My left hand drops from his neck to grab his ass cheek when I feel his pace quicken. His head nods, his eyes widening as I devour his mouth. He’s close and I want to feel it all. Two more thrusts hit my G-spot and his thick loads explodes inside of me as I shoot mine all over his chest.
The orgasm hits me two seconds later as he moves to the bed and drops us both down on to it. My body tingles all over as he pulls himself out and scoops the cum from his chest, sliding it into his mouth and swallowing it down.
The heavy panting between us hides an awkward silence as he lifts himself to the pillows and studies me.
“I think I might love you too.”
The right side of his lips lift as his hazel eyes light up. His words set fireworks off in my heart. The words I’ve been longing to hear for weeks are finally leaving his mouth. He might love me too.
Sure, it’s not a definite, but I’ll take it.
I scan every inch of his body as the sun shines behind him, giving him an angel-like aura. It’s an image I want to capture in my mind forever.
I push myself upward toward him and take a leap of faith.
It’s now or never.
“Does that mean you’re ready to become boyfriends?”
The flutter of his eyelashes matches the flutter in my chest.
My ass cheeks clench as I wait for him to respond.
Please say yes. Please don’t sour this perfect moment between us.
He takes a deep inhale as if bracing himself and then finally speaks.
“Yes.”
I’ve been on cloud nine all day, ever since Christopher agreed to being boyfriends. I’d bounced round the studio with a flurry of song ideas. Then I zoomed down the PCH to drop off the presents to the label, and smiled with delight when I picked him up from his office to bring him to the airport.
Even the sight of John’s name on my phone as we pulled up outside departures didn’t evoke the usual response his previous calls had, when he’d shared news of the latest round of negotiations with Paul.
I turn to look at Christopher to make sure I’ve heard John correctly, and he nods.
“They’ve agreed to everything we pushed back on?”
My back stiffens in the car seat. After the last week of constant back and forth, having him concede so quickly, without any pushback, makes me feel like Paul is up to something.
“Yep. The sunset clause is back to five years and the tour commission is cut out of the post-term agreement.” John’s voice emanates from the speakers and echoes around the car.
I can barely contain my excitement and I pump the roof of the truck with my fist.
Christopher smiles widely and squeezes my leg.
“And you’re sure he’s not up to something, plotting some kind of revenge?”
“The NDA alongside the post-term agreement will ensure that can’t happen.”
“Are you telling me that I’m finally free from Paul?”
“Yes,” John says matter-of-factly, never one to joke.
I bite my lip to stop a squeal from leaving my mouth as I jump up and down in my seat. I feel like a prisoner who’s been granted early release for good behavior.
“Thank you, John. Thank you. Thank you.”
My fist meets the horn and I startle the woman removing her suitcase from the trunk of the taxi in front.
“Do you want me to email over the paperwork to sign now, or do you want to come in tomorrow, where we can also discuss me coming on board as your manager?”
My jaw hits the floor and my stomach fills with butterflies.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You’re officially going to come on board as my manager?” I need reassurance to make sure I’m not misunderstanding.
“Yes, I’ve spoken with my wife and if you and I can agree to everything, then I’ll let the law firm know I’m going to be leaving to manage you.”
My heart skips a beat as I look at the screen on the dashboard.
It’s not Christmas for another week.
“Oh my God, thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.” Excitement lines my every word.
A bang on the window startles me and I tense up. My immediate fear that a fan has recognized me is alleviated when I see a traffic warden motioning me forward instead.
“I’ve got to go, John. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone and drive down to the British Airways departure sign, pulling into a spot so I don’t have to rush to say goodbye to Christopher. I turn the engine off and turn to him.
“Can you believe it?”
“I believe it more than I believe you actually chose to wear that.”
He looks at my matched stonewash multicolored hoodie and shorts as he reaches for the door handle.
My shoulders sink, not from the diss, but from the fact that he’s finally back to his usual sarcastic self.
I’ve somehow missed his subtle insults, even though they’re often at my expense.
Hopefully we can finally fully get back in sync, into the rhythm we’d established back in June, before our worlds turned upside down.
“Hold on.” I reach for his arm, then lean over and retrieve an envelope from the glove compartment. “This is your other Christmas present.”
“What is it?”
He quickly flips it over and pulls at the back to open it, but I snatch it from him.
“Don’t open it now,” I say, holding it above my head out of reach.
“Okay,” he says with a puppy dog look.
“No, promise me.” I don’t move my hand.
“Okay. I promise.” His chin lowers and he rolls his eyes upward when I hand it back.
I just hope he’s down for what’s inside.