CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE #2
Once he’s done, I grab the loofah and soap and get to my knees.
I avoided this part until last because it hurts to look at.
I gently wash the blood away, feeling tears sting my eyes when I see the bruises below his knees and shins.
The blood had covered most of them, along with his tattoos.
It reminds me that today, it could have been him standing on that trapped door.
It could have been him lying in that hospital bed.
I feel like I don’t have the right to feel this way.
We aren’t even a couple. I only agreed to more this morning.
Yet the burning in my chest is something most people only feel after knowing someone for years, having built a connection over a long period of time.
We have a connection, one I believe is solid, and yet doubt creeps about whether it’s real.
It could be fear because of how much I feel for him.
I make sure to pay attention to the backs of his legs, not wanting to miss any spots.
I don’t want him to wake up and be reminded so harshly about what happened.
Mostly, I’m biding my time, hoping the tears I’m holding back don’t fall.
His fingers brush through my hair, and I glance up, noticing he’s semi hard.
There’s nothing sexual in his gaze. No yearning. No lust. There is gratitude. A tenderness that has my hands shaking. A softness in his gaze that has my pulse racing.
Behind all that, there’s an air of despondency he’s struggling to hide. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.
God, this man. This gorgeous fucking man.
I slide my hands up his thighs, smirking when his dick twitches. His pupils dilate when I grab the base of his dick in my hand. Fully hard now, I kiss the tip of his dick, my gaze still on his.
His thumb runs over my lips then presses down on my chin as I open my mouth.
No words are shared. There’s no dirty talk or a promise of what will happen.
I take him in my mouth, letting him hit the back of my throat.
He groans when I pull back, flicking my tongue over the tip before sucking him deeper, swallowing around the tip of his dick, knowing guys love the sensation.
He grips the back of my head gently as my head bobs up and down as I fuck him with my mouth.
One hand is at the base of his dick, stroking him, whilst the other tugs at his ball sack.
His breaths are coming faster, and the grip he has in my hair tightens. He even begins to thrust into my mouth. I so badly want to touch myself, but this isn’t about me. This is about him.
His thighs clench. “Sunshine, I’m gonna—”
I suck him harder, using my tongue and the saliva that has built up to bring him closer to the edge. He growls low in his throat, and he presses me into his crotch as he shoots his load into my mouth. My eyes water as I swallow it down, my movements slowing.
My jaw aches when I slide my mouth off his dick. I lower my head, wiping the drool and cum that has run down my chin that I didn’t manage to swallow. I can feel he’s less tense, less on edge, as I get to my feet.
He’s still panting heavily when I switch the shower off. “Let’s get dry.”
He stops me from leaving. “We aren’t done,” he hoarsely remarks.
“I didn’t do that to start something. That was for you,” I reply honestly, feeling my cheeks heat. I reach for his good hand and tug him out. I pass him a towel before grabbing my own. I’ve barely got it secured around my chest when he gently pushes me against the sink.
My chest rises and falls at his expression.
His eyes run over my face, searching, seeking, trying to find answers so he doesn’t need to ask them.
I can see the internal war he’s having, and I bet a part of him wants to flee because he doesn’t understand what is going on in his mind.
My heart aches for him. Not out of pity.
It’s out of a need to help him. His hand grips the towel at my hip.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him struggle to find words.
He has always been so confident and outspoken.
I run my hand up his chest. I don’t need words. I just need him to be okay. “Let’s go to bed.”
His head jerks once in a nod before he steps away, and I have this sinking feeling he’s frustrated with himself when I get a quick glimpse of him in the mirror. His head bows, and he shakes it slowly.
I step into my room and quickly rush to get dressed in my pyjamas. I’m towel drying my hair when he walks into the room, his towel still wrapped around his waist. “I don’t have any clean clothes.”
I drop the towel to the floor at the sadness in his voice. “Evie brought you a set of clothes, remember,” I remind him, picking up the bag left near the dresser. “Wyatt told her what to pack.”
He scrubs a hand through his damp hair. “Shit! Yeah. I guess I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him, handing him the bag. He tugs the towel off, standing in all his naked glory as he throws it in the basket in the corner. He rifles through the bag, pulling out a pair of boxers as I begin to brush the knots out of my hair.
“Are you okay with me staying here?” he asks whilst lowering himself onto the bed.
I place my brush down. “Of course I am,” I promise. “Switch the bedside light on, please.”
He reaches for the little lamp, switching it on as I turn off the one near the door. My heart is still beating wildly as I walk over to the bed. I want to ask him how he is holding up, which I know is a stupid question. His brother is in the hospital.
I pull the thin blanket up over my legs, and before I can reach for Reid, he’s pulling me against his chest, lying us both back so I’m tucked against his chest.
I lay my head on his pec and begin to run my finger down the trail between his abs. “I’m really sorry you went through that today.”
He presses his lips to the top of my head.
“I had him in my hand,” he admits. “The blood and heat made it impossible. I keep hearing him plead with me not to let go. It wasn’t even the bar that I registered at first. It was his white shirt turning red.
Or that’s how it feels. I keep seeing it over and over. ”
I rest my chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. “Hey,” I softly call, cupping his jaw. “You don’t need to talk about what happened if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”
“I would never have gotten through today without you,” he admits, running his fingers along my shoulder.
“Yes, you would have. You are strong, and you have an incredible family.”
He drops his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
“I would have made things worse had it not been for you. I would have smashed something up or caused a fight with a Carter. I would be out getting piss poor drunk, making piss poor decisions, disappointing everyone like always,” he explains.
Hearing him put himself down breaks me. “You grounded me and I’ve never had that before. ”
Tears sting my eyes as I press a kiss to his chest. “I don’t believe it’s because of me.
In that hallway, I didn’t see someone wanting to smash up something or cause a fight.
Your focus was on your brother. Maybe in the past those things would have happened, but people grow, Reid.
People can break the cycle. Maybe someone said something to you recently that you didn’t realise had truly sunk in.
It could have been something you promised to stop doing yourself.
And it just so happened to be today the cycle was broken.
Either way, it wasn’t me who got you through it.
I just held your hand and supported what you needed.
I mean, if you can count fucking you in a public bathroom supporting you. ”
There’s a moment of silence as he absorbs my words.
When he speaks, his voice is gruffer. “I need you to know despite what happened in the bathroom, I respect you. I’m not even sure if that is the right word.
What I’m trying to say is that when I first met you, I only took you to that bathroom because I desperately wanted you.
Not in a way where you could have been any chick and I would have done it.
I’m not saying a quick fuck at the back of a club or pub hasn’t been a thing before, or a quickie in a car, but that night, it wasn’t about that.
It was the same feeling I had tonight. It wasn’t about sex.
Well it was. But it was more about... fuck, I don’t know.
I just need you to know I respect you, that this with you isn’t just about how phenomenal sex is between us. ”
My breath catches, and I struggle to get out my next words because I desperately want to tell him I love him.
I loved him the first time I saw him. I just knew.
But saying that would only scare him. “I know,” I reply softly.
“Despite what I tried to tell myself to get through feeling hurt, I knew the pub bathroom wasn’t meaningless.
It’s comforting to hear you say it though. ”
He meets my gaze, giving me that look again, the one that makes me want to blurt out those three words.
“I’ve been thinking. I...” he trails off, briefly closing his eyes. When they reopen, he slides his arm out from under me and leans up, pressing his bandaged hand on my thigh. “I’m the fucking charming one in my family, and yet you make me feel like a blithering twelve-year-old.”
I arch my eyebrows at the affection yet frustration in his tone. “You were a blithering twelve-year-old?”
“When it came to pretty girls, yes. It was annoying. My brothers made fun of me, which is why I worked on my game,” he explains, his lips tugging up into a small smile. “But you... You make me feel like that fucking kid again. I hate it because I don’t know how to say what I need to.”
I run my hand up his arm, trying to smile wide at his unease.
This is also new and I find this side of him endearing.
“How about you just be honest and say what is on your mind? I won’t laugh or tease you.
If you think you’ve said it wrong, we can talk through it until we get it right. How does that sound?”
“Like I’m talking to the support worker the school had me appointed to when I was fourteen.”
I roll my eyes. “Stop deflecting.”
“Okay, here it goes,” he replies quietly. “I don’t want to do more.”
My stomach bottoms out and I tense all over. I feel like my heart is going to give out. My eyes sting all over again, and I squeeze his bicep, hoping this is all in my mind, that he isn’t lying beside me saying these things. “W-what?”
“I don’t want to do more,” he repeats, twisting the knife a little deeper.
“You don’t want to do more?” I ask, like he hasn’t just confirmed it twice.
He shakes his head. “No.” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, my voice shaking. I’m too afraid to move, frozen on the spot. “Why are you saying this?”
His eyes flash open, pinning me down, at the shake in my voice.
“Hey, don’t get upset.” If I could bear to hurt him right now, I would punch him in the stomach.
“Argh, I’m messing this up. God, I feel so fucking stupid, so I’m just going to say it and hope it comes out right.
Please bear in mind that I’ve never had to have this conversation. Like ever.”
“Reid, please just say it,” I demand, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“I want you to be my girlfriend. I know you only agreed to ‘more’ without labels, and exclusivity, but I want the goddamn label. This is the more I want. I want you to be my girlfriend.”
Surprise renders me speechless. This was not how I saw this conversation going. Pieces of my heart, which had just shattered, begin to piece back together again slowly. I need confirmation I heard him though. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”
His eyebrows pinch together. “Yes. Did I do it wrong? I don’t even know any mates who have asked a girl to be their girlfriend.”
I smile and lean up over him until I’m practically on top of him. “You want to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes heat at the word, and I feel his dick twitch beneath me. “Yes, Summer. I can even change my relationship status on Facebook to prove it.”
I love him.
He is so damn adorable.
I brush my lips over his. “I’ve changed my mind. I want you to fuck me.”
“You’ll have to do all of the work,” he tells me, rock hard now. “I’m exhausted.”
I remove the pyjamas I’ve only just put on, smiling whilst I do. “Oh, if you haven’t already figured it out, the answer is yes. Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
He grabs me around the waist, and I squeal when my back lands on the mattress. I guess he isn’t as exhausted as he thought he was.
Even with only one working hand, he manages to fuck me into oblivion.