Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JAMES
I am lost for words. How can this man be the quietest in the group but be the one to show his feelings the loudest? It didn't make sense.
How he has never found someone constantly loops in my mind.
He is so deserving.
Deserving of being loved and accepted for the way he is.
“Good, then let me spend the time we have together worshipping you James,” his voice breaks as he steps back and I feel the aching burn as he gently releases my face from his grasp and I miss his touch almost instantly.
How can this only be a contract?
How can this only be for show?
How can this not be more?
It's there.
I can feel it.
He can feel it.
So why can neither one of us accept that this is maybe the way our story is meant to go?
Maybe it's because we have both been burned in ways that we have never recovered from, maybe it's because we have never been chosen once in our lives, maybe it's because we don't think we're deserving of such a powerful love.
And maybe that's why we won’t work.
Maybe this will be the undoing of both of us.
Slowly breaking each other down until we're nothing but pieces that slowly over time disintegrate into nothing but dust as we float through this life, before we're in a never-ending infinite darkness.
He stands in front of me, head tilted, and I know he is trying to read me.
I know he is trying to work out what is going around my head.
But he will never know.
He will be my best kept secret.
The one I have to love silently.
Because loving him out loud will be too painful, and I don't think my heart could take it.
He is so deserving.
He deserves to be loved out loud.
But I’m not the one to do it.
“What do you want to do, James?” his voice is quiet, his fingers flexing before closing. He continues to do this in a repetitive manner.
I blink at him before I look around at the pole then my eyes are back on his.
“Seems a waste,” I whisper, my fingers still locked in my lap.
“It does,” he rubs his thumb pad across his bottom lip, his tongue in his cheek.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, ignoring the way it thickens almost instantly.
Pushing to my feet, I step closer to him, eyes sweeping over his face.
“Are you happy with this?” I find myself asking him because I didn't want to put him in a position where he was uncomfortable.
“I am if you are,” he smirks, dropping his hand from his mouth and my heart throbs inside my chest.
“I am,” I run my tongue over my bottom lip.
“Good,” he steps closer to me, toe to toe and he smells delicious, and I hold my breath as he presses his lips to my forehead.
“I better get changed...” I whisper, looking around the room but I can't see an outfit.
“Check the drawers,” his head nods to the side where the side table stands.
Rolling my lips I ignore the burn that creeps onto my cheeks and hope that he never saw. Slowly walking across, I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move and I try and hide my trembling hands as I pull on one of the drawers, eyes widening when I see the lube, condoms, handcuffs and blindfold.
“Oh,” I squeak and the burning that crept on is now slapped across my cheeks for all to see. I slam the drawer shut and ignore the low rasp of his laugh that swarms behind me. I dust my fingers across to the other one and pull on it to reveal a folded up dusty blue lingerie set.
I cough, choking on my inhale as my fingers gently press against the soft material.
“Oh God,” I whisper, lifting my finger as if the lingerie burnt them.
“Everything okay?” he asks, and I can hear the concern that laces his voice.
“Mmhm,” I hum, not wanting him to see my hesitation, because if he does, he won't want to carry on, but I did want to carry on. I wanted this more than he could know.
Closing my eyes for just a moment, I inhale heavily and exhale a shaky breath as I lift the soft, laced lingerie from the drawer.
“I'm just going to get changed,” I whisper, refusing to look over my shoulder at him. my husband. The one who has stolen my heart and yet, he hasn't even realised.
He doesn't respond, but I know he heard me. Padding across to the wooden door, I curl my fingers around the handle and push down as I step inside the small restroom and close the door behind me. I rest my back against it, eyes squeezed shut as I cling onto the lingerie in my hands and hold it against my chest.
“It's fine,” I whisper to the room. “Totally fine.”
I nod, giving myself a pep talk as I step further into the small room and catch my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes are bright, cheeks flustered, and I know it's all from him.
Placing the lingerie on the sink unit, I peel my cropped tee from my body and fold it neatly, before shimmying out of my denim skirt and placing it on top of my tee. I'm standing in just my bra and panties, and I trail my fingers across my stomach, my skin tingling from my blazing fingertips.
I wanted his fingers on me. His hands. His lips. His mouth... everything.
I had only ever been with Rune, and as much as the sex was good... I think? The connection was never there.
I wanted that soul shattering, earth moving moment.
I never got it.
I know it exists.
I just never had it.
And now I was desperate to find it.
“You've got this, show him what he could have James,” I pep talk myself in the mirror and push my cotton panties down my long legs then unhook my bra. I fold them before I hold up the dusty blue lingerie.
It's a baby doll and matching thong.
Not what I would have chosen, but I am trusting Connie.
I am even more amazed that she didn't ask for sizes and if this fitted, she was a pro.
First, I slip on the panties and pull them up my legs and raise a brow at the fit. They were perfect. Twisting, I glance at my rear and smile.
I felt good.
That gave me a little confidence boost.
Next was the babydoll. Slipping it over my head, I clasped the back with a bit of a struggle then re-arranged myself to make sure it all fitted correctly, and again, I was shocked. It fit me like a glove.
Tucking my hand inside the bra of my outfit, I pulled my breasts up to give myself a killer cleavage.
Tugging on my hair band, I let my red hair fall down my back. Ruffling my fingers at the root to give it some volume before I drag them through to the end, pulling any knots out.
Pinching my cheeks to add some color to my paling skin; I needed something, and my make up wasn't cutting it.
“You've got this,” I tell myself again, shaking my hands out.
I walk for the door before my mind talks me out of this. Pulling the door, I pop my head around and Nate's back is to me.
“Nate,” I call out and he goes to spin. “No, don't look at me,” the urgency in my voice has him anchored to the ground.
“Not looking,” he calls back and I know he is smiling.
“Can you put the blindfold on?” my voice is quiet as I ask, and he nods.
“Of course, of course, I can keep it on if you want me to...” he trails off and my heart jolts in my chest.
“No, I don't want that,” I swallow down the lump and feel my cheeks flame.
“Okay,” I watch as he turns, his hand covering his eyes from seeing where I am tucked behind the door and I roll my lips as I fight with my smile.
He pads around and pulls on one of the drawers and I watch as he fumbles for the blindfold before he turns and walks back towards the bed and as soon as he is sat down, he covers his eyes with it. His hands rest palm side down on his jean covered thighs and I watch as he rubs them up and down in a slow rhythm.
“All okay?” I call out, my stomach twists, instantly feeling bad that I’ve taken one of his senses.
“Yeah,” he rubs his lips together before they twitch and I inhale deeply.
“Okay, I'm coming out,” I say softly to the quiet room.
His lips tug into a smile and my heart jackhammers with each step I take.
“I'm nervous,” I admit, my hand splayed against my stomach as I try and push down the tidal wave of nerves that are swirling deep inside.
“Don't be, it's only me.”
Exactly.
It's only you.
I wrap my finger around the pole and honestly, I have no clue what I am doing. I needed music or something. How am I meant to dance with no music.
Stepping across the room, I see a small speaker and push a couple of buttons before ICFTI – James Gillespie begins to play and I smile as Nate begins to move to the rhythm, his foot tapping on the hardwood.
Standing back in front of the pole, my breaths fasten, and I try to catch them and force them to slow down.
“You doing okay?” he asks and I nod, then remember he can't see me.
“Yeah...” my voice trembles and my palms are sweaty.
“You don't have to do this,” he speaks a little louder.
“Can you put the blindfold on me?” I ask, ignoring his earlier sentence, my fingers curling around the cool pole, my chest rising and falling, sucking in a breath.
“Yes,” he whispers and as he stands, I close my eyes. I can't look at him.
I feel his warm breath on my face, my grip tightening as his knuckles brush against my cheek bone, my breath catches and my heart stills for just a moment.
“You look...” he whispers and my lips part, chin lifting.
His knuckles drop from my skin before his hand moves to the back of my head, bringing me forward slightly as he puts the band of the blindfold around my head then I feel the silk mask slip over my eyes and only then do I open my eyes.
I can hear his own ragged breaths, and I have no idea what he is looking at, but in a way I am kind of grateful.
I would have blushed the whole time under his intense gaze, this way, I can pretend it's just me.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks one last time and while I am grateful that he does ask, and as much as I am terrified, I wanted to do this. Needed to do this even.
“I'm sure.”