Chapter 13 Roman
Chapter thirteen
Roman
“Roman, wake up sweet thing.”
My heavy lids peel open and I’m met with the handsome face of the man of all my wildest dreams. Behind him, there’s a glow filling the room from where the curtains are parted, showing off the hesitant sunshine outside.
“Time to eat,” Garrett announces, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He pulls the blanket away from my face, rests the back of his palm on my forehead, humming under his breath.
“Fever’s gone,” he remarks. “And you’re not so flushed anymore.”
I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been ill.
I know I had breakfast with him this morning – or yesterday morning?
I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that Garrett has been by my side since he carried me home in the rain.
I also have a vague recollection of a conversation about fantasies and… oh yeah, the shower.
Now, he shifts on the bed, his sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, muscular arms. He brings a bowl of steaming soup closer and my mouth waters at the delicious smell, my belly rumbling to remind me it’s been a while since I last ate.
Hunger aside, though, I’m still dozing and not yet ready to leave my warm Garrett-scented fort of blankets.
“No, too sleepy,” I moan, rolling onto my stomach and burying my head in the pillow.
Garrett sighs and moments later there’s the clack of the bowl settling on the bedside table, before a heavy, warm weight crushes me into the mattress.
It’s bliss. Pure, utter bliss.
“You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten,” he says into my ear, his breath and beard tickling the sensitive skin there.
For the first time since I woke up a sweaty mess a few days ago, my cock stirs, warmth blooming in my belly.
Well, hello there, arousal. Nice to have you back.
My lungs ache from breathing against the pillow, so I turn my face to the side to suck in fresh air.
“What do I get if I eat?”
He chuckles. “Sustenance, a full stomach, vitamins and nutrients?”
“Boring,” I reply, dramatically sticking out my bottom lip. I was hoping for something more enticing. Like another hour of cuddling, or another accompanied shower or the shirt off his back, which probably smells like man and sweat and Garrett.
He rolls off me, and I whine, immediately flipping onto my side to follow his movements and resisting the urge to make grabby hands at the guy I’ve been clinging to like a barnacle.
Garrett stands next to the bed and lifts the bowl of soup.
“Eat, Roman.” His voice is stern, which sets off butterflies in my chest, along with this desire to do as he asks.
I sit up, flopping my head back against the headboard with a grunt. My throat isn’t scratchy any longer and my body isn’t aching, but there’s still that distant fogginess that accompanies sickness that is making it a slow process to get moving.
Reaching out a hand, I place it over Garrett’s forearm.
“Feed me?” I ask, trying to flutter my eyelashes. It’s not a move I’ve done before, so I probably look like I have something in my eye. But hey, gotta give me points for trying.
Garrett rolls his eyes, but grins. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fills a spoon with the chunky liquid and holds it to my lips. I part them, swallowing it down before opening my mouth. Soon, my stomach is comfortably full, and the bowl is empty.
“More food or a shower?” he asks, tipping his head in the direction of the hallway leading to the rest of the cottage.
I give my armpits a cursory sniff. Not too bad. Then I run a hand through my hair. It’s tacky and tangled, sticking to my nape thanks to all the sweating I’ve done since –
“How long was I out for?”
“Two days,” Garrett says in answer. “You got up once or twice, had a shower.” He smirks and my not feverish cheeks suddenly heat.
He laughs before continuing. “I got some water, paracetamol and soup in you – with a lot of moaning – and then you slept on the sofa for a bit while I worked. Last night, I brought you back to bed.”
He did all that for me? My throat goes tight and I blink away a sudden wash of tears.
Being sick has obviously made me emotional.
Or maybe it’s that no one has taken care of me since my mum died.
My aunt was fine – she did all the things she needed to do to make sure I grew up healthy – but she wasn’t a caretaker.
She didn’t hug me or tell me she loved me.
And she certainly never sat with me for two days when I was running a fever.
Garrett dabs the skin on my cheek, catching a stray tear on his thumb. He looks at me with bright hazel eyes, flecks of gold sparkling in them, but he doesn’t question my sudden wave of emotion.
“So what will it be, Short Stack? Food or shower?”
“Is an orgasm on the menu? Because if it’s not, it should be,” I reply playfully.
He laughs with his whole body; the sound rumbling from his chest. I fucking love it.
“I’ve missed your sass,” Garrett jokes.
Experiencing a bolt of energy, thanks to rest, food and the man in my bed, I flick the blanket off me, then swing my legs over the side.
The room is warm, and I’m cosy in my oversized hoodie and fleece leggings, but I’m barefoot and the hardwood flooring is cool beneath my feet.
I sway as I press to stand, getting my bearings after being out of it for so long.
Rounding the bed, I part Garrett’s legs and slide between them. His hands find their way under my hoodie, settling on my lower back.
“I’m going to shower, after which we’ll watch a movie.” I bend down and plant one promising kiss on the side of his neck. “And then there will be orgasms.”
After my shower, I feel a thousand times better. My skin is no longer clammy, and though there’s still this slither of fatigue weighing on my body, I’m happy and excited for the day ahead.
By the time I find Garrett in the lounge, my cheeks are aching from how hard I’m smiling. The fire’s burning, logs crackling in the fireplace, and there’s a mug of steaming tea on the lounge table. Garrett has his back to me, his shoulders hunched as his fingers move over his typewriter keys.
Leaning against the doorframe, I take him in. He’s tall and broad, his hair cut to the nape of his neck. It’s a chestnut brown that I imagine hints at red in the sunlight.
Moving into the room on socked feet, I sidle past him and to the cabinet beneath the television. I’d spotted it when I first scoped out the place – filled with old DVDs and board games, like a treasure trove of forgotten entertainment.
Shifting into a seated position, my legs crossed, I pull out the piles of plastic casings and sift through them, weeding out any that are remotely festive.
By my estimation, we are three days away from Christmas and this cottage, while full of English charm, is lacking in that warm and fuzzy ambiance that I so love about the season.
Before my unexpected company, I had planned to visit the local stores and pick up some decorations.
I look at Garrett, wondering if it’s something we could do together – that’s if he wants me to stay.
I bite the inside of my cheek, not sure how to bring it up other than blurting, “Don’t make me leave!
” which would only make me seem needier than I already appear.
“You’re being ridiculous, Supernova,” I mumble under my breath, turning back to the DVDs in front of me.
My choices are limited, and with no internet or streaming services, what I find here is all we have to select from.
There’s a few popular kids’ movies, a romance, and then under a pile of British sitcoms, I find the jackpot.
“Found our film! Only the best Christmas film ever,” I declare, holding it in the air and waving it at Garrett. He spins in his chair, cocking his head to the side.
“That’s not a Christmas film,” he deadpans, his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. He has a smudge of ink on his cheek, and I spy a plate of uneaten biscuits on the desk next to him. He doesn’t share my enthusiasm for the sweet treat, clearly.
“Um, excuse me and fuck you very muchly,” I jump to my feet and saunter over to him, “but Gremlins is a Christmas film.”
“Hmm, I guess next you’ll say Die Hard is, too.”
I part my lips in mock outrage, covering his mouth with the palm of my hand.
“Say no more. You’re ruining the whole perfect vibe you had going on.”
He laughs behind my hand and I gasp at the sudden sting of pain as he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh.
“You bit me!”
“You were being a brat.” Garrett nudges forward, bracketing me with his legs.
“I will watch whatever you want, sweet thing, but first, I’m going to take a quick walk into the village.”
All the excitement I felt at finding the perfect way to spend the day evaporates like smoke on the horizon. This must be the part when he says he’s going to find me some place else to stay, so he doesn’t have me distracting him from his all important novel.
“Oh.” I take a step back and Garrett’s hand shoots out, gripping my hip.
“We need milk and fresh food. There’s not much left in the fridge. Besides a bag of kale, which I have no idea what to do with.”
One side of my lips curve into a grin, but I’m still deflated.
“I won’t be long,” he assures me. “I’ll walk fast, shop quickly and get a cab back. Three hours tops.”
I purse my lips, keeping in the question on the tip of my tongue. The way he’s talking, it’s like he wants me to stay, but he hasn’t said as much and I think I really need to know.
“Roman? Why are you suddenly so quiet?” he asks. “Make me a list of all the tea and biscuits your heart desires, and I’ll get them.”
His hand squeezes my hip, and I make eye contact.
“Do you still want me to go?”
Garrett’s eyes widen. “Is that what you want?”
My head is shaking before my brain has a chance to process any words.
“Good.” Garrett pulls me forward and I tumble onto his lap. “Because I don’t want you to go.”
“What about your work, and not having distractions?”
He kisses my neck, running his tongue along my collarbone where the fabric of my t-shirt dips.
“Hmm, you have a point. You are very distracting.” His hands move to the hem of my shirt before he’s pulling it up and over my head.
Lips meet the tender flesh of my nipple, warmth engulfing the peaked bud.
I hiss when his teeth graze the area, my hands finding his hair and tightening in the short strands as he continues to torment me.
“Very.” He kisses the area between my pecs.
“Very.” A kiss to my collarbone.
“Very.” Teeth graze over my fluttering pulse.
“Distracting.”
My cock thickens, trapped in the confines of my leggings, and I press my lower half into him, moaning at the brush of friction against my shaft.
“Gare Bear,” I groan as he places openmouthed kisses over every spot of available skin.
“Hmm,” he mumbles, his teeth nipping and his tongue soothing. My temperature is soaring and this time it’s not because of some fucking virus. It is all him.
All us.
“What do you need?” Garrett asks, pulling away to meet my gaze.
“Anything.” I shake my head. “Everything.”
He stands, his hands still on my hips. The change in position forces me backwards and he guides me, one step and then another, until my back hits the far wall with an oomph.
With a salacious grin, Garrett presses a chaste kiss to my lips, then slowly falls to his knees.
“Hold on,” he says as he rips down my leggings, my hard cock popping free.
My hands thread into his hair, and then he’s sucking me into his mouth, all the way to the base of my shaft.
“Fuuuck,” I groan, the back of my head hitting the wall. Garrett is relentless. Sucking me hard and then letting my cock slide over his tongue until he’s lapping at my tip before taking me all the way in again.
Tingles radiate from the base of my spine, warmth spreading through my groin. My heart ricochets against my ribcage, my legs wobbling as he increases his speed. I’m on the edge, my toes curling as he pushes me closer and closer to my inevitable plummet.
“Garrett, Garrett, Garrett,” I chant his name, my hips now acting with a will of their own and fucking into his welcoming mouth with wanton abandon.
Our eyes meet – his are dark, his pupils blown – and I cannot break the contact, as much as I want to slam mine shut and succumb to the burning pleasure building in my veins.
Garrett lets my cock fall from his lips, then wraps a hand around my erection, using his saliva to ease the glide. He presses one hand over my bladder and I squirm, my back rubbing against the wall. He twists his other hand on my cock, never taking his eyes off of me.
“Fuck, I want to…” His words drift off, but I need to know. I need to know everything this man desires.
“What?” I pant. “What do you want? Tell me.”
He growls, his movements increasing.
“I want to chase you through those woods, hunt you down, piss on you and fuck you till you scream.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
And BOOM. I explode. My orgasm hitting me so hard, my eyes slam shut and white light sparks behind my closed lids. I’d collapse to a puddle on the floor if not for the wall of strength holding me up.
When I finally open my eyes, he’s still staring at me, my cum on his face and neck and a frown marring his beautiful face.
“Okay?” I ask, sliding down the wall and crawling closer to where he’s kneeling.
He uses his shirt to wipe his face before asking, “Was that too far?”
I shake my head. “That was hot. And my answer is yes.”
His frown deepens. “Yes, to?”
“Doing that. Hunting me in the woods…all of it.”
“Seriously?” Garrett pushes me onto my back and I land with a thud. Then he’s sliding his body over mine, pressing up on his elbows. “Aren’t you afraid of the woods?”
“Not if you’re the only thing chasing me. But I have one condition.”
He raises a brow.
“I’m going to need you in full mountain man attire. Axe and all.”
He laughs, then kisses me. “Anything you want.”
How anyone could call this man boring, I will never know. Though maybe people are like locks and keys. You either fit together or you don’t.
Garrett and I fit.
He moves his hips, his jean covered erection brushing against me.
“Can I taste you?” I ask.
Garrett kisses my cheeks and then my nose.
“When I get back from the store.”
I cannot fucking wait.