by Amy Daws
“I can’t!” I cry out and jerk away from him like he’s just struck me with his fist across my face.
Vi leans forward in her chair, her eyes hurt and full of tears, but she’s frozen in place just like everyone else. I can feel my brothers reaching out to me with their minds, but they are unsure of what to do when solid, big brother Gareth has a fucking meltdown for a change.
I fork my hands through my hair, an ache radiating in my chest as I add, “Don’t you think I want nothing more than to forget how horrible you were to her? I do my best to forget about it every Sunday night because I get to hop back on a train and keep my distance. But now you want to come on this holiday and play happy family, and talk about Mum, and pretend that neglect and abuse never happened. That’s complete rubbish and you know it.”
“Gareth, that’s enough!” he roars, his eyes turning back into the harsh robot I’m far more familiar with.
“Dad, stop,” Tanner states in a deep, warning tone as he stands up and splays his hands out on the table. Belle stares up at him, surprised by this very rare display of gravity from Tanner. “If Gareth has something to say, I think we owe it to him to listen.”
Camden and Booker stand up in unison and Vi rises to her feet a few seconds later. All four of my siblings are now staring down our father with a united strength against him I’ve never truly seen before.
Pride.
Fucking magnanimous pride ripples through my entire body from their display of loyalty to me.
But it’s tainted because, even as they attempt to unite against him for me, I can see that they still love him. My siblings whom I raised love Dad unconditionally. Will that ever not hurt?
“I’ve said all I need to say,” I state and make a move to leave but stop myself to add one more very important thing. Perhaps the most important thing of all. “But, Dad, don’t you worry about Sloan. She’s strong as fuck and can do what she needs to do on her own. But you can guarantee that if she does need someone, I will drop everything and be there for her just like I was for Mum and just like I am for them.”
I point to my siblings and feel their eyes watching me with fear over what I might do next. And for a brief second, I feel myself turning into my father. Overbearing, intimidating, unrelenting. The same angry, resentful, monster he was for so many years.
But I can’t pretend this is all okay and normal. I refuse to watch him hold the woman I care about in his arms, as well as the family I’ve spent my entire life protecting, and act like he knows how to be there for them.
He doesn’t.
I do.
I always have.
“GARETH!” I SHOUT DOWN THE beach, my voice muted by the waves crashing onto the shore.
A flash of lightning flickers off in the distance, lighting up the sky and Gareth’s silhouette. He’s standing a ways down the shore, waves lapping up toward his feet, his head bowed.
I pause to pull off my flip-flops and lift my dress to jog toward him. My heart thunders in my chest over everything that was said at dinner. All the pain from Gareth’s past rearing its head was horrible enough, but what he said about me? That proclamation of protection—that promise to be there for me—is overwhelming. With only a few words, I went from wanting to see how this week goes to needing to be the person in Gareth’s life. This isn’t casual anymore. Never mind the media, and the fame, and the fear. Gareth is not the kind of man you run from. He’s the kind you chase.
I yell his name again and the wind finally carries my voice to him. His head snaps in my direction. A storm brews in the distance, perfectly matching the storm in his eyes as he turns on his heel to face me.
“I’m sorry, Sloan,” he states sadly, pursing his lips together as I stand in front of him and fight to catch my breath. “I had to get out of there before I ripped someone’s fucking head off.”
I drop my sandals and reach out to touch his hand that’s stuffed inside his pocket, but he pulls away. “Gareth, it’s okay. I’m just worried about you.”
“I’m fucking worried about me, too.” He inhales deeply and kicks at the wet sand beneath our feet, his hands remaining firm in his pockets. “I thought I’d be fine on this trip with him. I mean, hell, I’ve been biting my tongue for years. I should be used to the taste of blood by now. But after everything he said at your house, then at Christmas and dinner tonight, it became too much for me to handle.”
“What do you want him to say?” I ask, releasing the bottom of my dress and letting the fabric whip around my legs in the wind. A chill runs up my spine from the cold front moving in, so I cross my arms to rub my shoulders. “It seems like he’s being more open and trying to at least talk about the past. That’s good, isn’t it?”
“But he’s not talking about the right parts,” Gareth states, looking up at me with a shake of his head.
“What are the right parts?”
He chomps down on his lower lip and his eyes narrow as he stares up at the sky. “The parts that are burned into my brain for the rest of my fucking life.”
His gaze finds mine again, the moonlight and water reflecting in his eyes.
“Gareth—”
“It’s not bloody fair! He gets to walk Vi down the aisle and play happy grandpa with Rocky like a normal dad or grandfather, or whatever the fuck he is now. Great for him. But why now? Why after I have done all the work? Why, after I’ve sacrificed my entire fucking youth for our family, does he get to come in and take all the glory? We don’t need him anymore! Everyone’s happy. Everyone’s married, or getting married, or having children. Everyone’s settled. Well, except me. I’m too fucked-up to figure my own fucking life out.”
“You’re not fucked-up!” I exclaim, my hands balling into fists from the anger that courses through me over him speaking about himself this way.
“I told you I was there when my fucking mum died, Sloan,” he states, taking a step closer to me as he pounds his chest. “The second she took her last breath, I felt it beneath my cheek like needles pricking all over my body. You don’t think that’s going to fuck a kid up for life? It has. I can’t forget that sensation. That moment. That touch. I had to be so brave those last few months she was alive because my father couldn’t be. I was only a bit older than Sophia, and I was the only one there to comfort her. Can you imagine that responsibility for your daughter?”
“No,” I croak with a small cry, my voice trembling with complete fear over the thought of it.
“When my mother was in pain, I let her squeeze my hand,” he states, holding his palm out to me for proof. “And it wasn’t always just physical pain. It was emotional, too. My father broke her heart and she still loved him through it just like my siblings still love him unconditionally now. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Neither can I,” I reply honestly, his face blurring from the tears in my eyes.
“That’s why I can’t stomach the fact that he’s calling her the love of his life and speaking openly about her again. It’s too much. She’s mine now, you know? Not his. She was my best friend, and he lost the right to talk about her the second he chose to be angry at her for dying.” He leans over and braces his hands on his knees, the pain overtaking his entire body.
“Gareth, I’m so sorry.” I make a move to hold him, but he straightens quickly and backs away from me again.
“I used to try to shove him out the door when he was yelling at her, but he was too big and too strong. It was like pushing a wall.” Gareth’s hands shake in front of him as he demonstrates the act.
“Gareth,” I croak, tears falling down my cheeks. I can hardly bear to hear any more.
“I have nightmares about that weak feeling. About screaming at him with no sound coming out. About pushing him but him never budging. He always made me feel so powerless. That’s why I fucking craved control in everything else in my life. Until…” He shakes his head and swallows hard, not wanting to finish his last thought.
“Until what?” I urge because whatever it is must be impo
rtant.
His hazel eyes find mine and pin me with a fierce, terrifying look. “Until you.”
My breath catches in my throat, a knot forming that’s so big, I don’t know how I’m still upright and breathing. My voice is a whisper when I ask, “What do you mean?”
He stares back at me with so much intensity, so much certainty, so much passion. “It was you, Sloan. You changed my entire thought process. Surrendering to you gave me a freedom that I’d never felt before. I’ve never experienced trust like that with anyone. Not even my siblings. I haven’t trusted them with memories of our mum. I haven’t trusted that they could handle their own problems. I’ve always just controlled them. But there’s something about you that fucking frees me, but the freedom terrifies me.”
My mind reels from his declaration, the emotions in my body crashing on top of each other like the waves on the shore. “Why are you scared?”
“Because if I try to control you, you might bolt.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You ran once, Sloan.”
“I came back,” I state firmly, grabbing his face in my hands and not caring that he’s wincing under my touch.
“But for how long?” He looks down, shaking his head like he doesn’t know how to accept what’s right in front of him. Like he doesn’t know how to accept me anymore. “You’re strong on your own and you have Sophia. My brothers have their partners. Vi has Hayden and Rocky. I have no one.”
He pulls back from my grasp and tips his face up toward the sky.
“You have me,” I say softly, letting the feeling of his earlier words take life inside of me. Recalling the words he stated about being proud of me for protecting Sophia on the soccer field. Remembering all the times he helped me feel strong when I was crumbling on the inside. He has me, body and soul. I just need to prove it to him.
“Look at me, Gareth. Now,” I demand. His eyes snap open in response to the firm tone that I’ve used on him countless times. “You have me.”
With a deep breath, I take a slow step back from him and, without breaking eye contact, I lower to my knees and splay my hands out on my thighs.
“What are you doing, Sloan?” he croaks, a deep husk of need in his voice that causes my thighs to squeeze.
“You have me, Gareth.” I pin him with a look that forces him to hear me.
“Treacle,” he states, his tense posture dropping as he lowers to his knees and cups my face in his hands. With a pleading expression on his face, he continues, “This isn’t what I need from you right now.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I just told you it was your control that gave my mind rest,” he argues, gently stroking my face and apologising over and over with the look in his eyes.
I shake my head. “Trust works both ways, Gareth. You don’t only get to feel free by surrendering. You can feel free by dominating. Let me help you feel strong the same way you helped me feel strong.”
He sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, his eyes glossy with tears. “I don’t know if I can anymore. My mind is so fucked right now.”
I have to stifle a growl of frustration because I hate this so much. I hate that he thinks he’s broken. I hate that he thinks he can lose his family. Doesn’t he see the way they look to him for approval in all things? Doesn’t he see how much they all care about him?
Doesn’t he see how much I care?
Suddenly, a drop of water hits my cheek. I frown and gaze up at the sky for confirmation just as it begins pouring down over us. It’s a cold, electrifying rain that zaps every one of my senses. It feels almost like a cleansing. Like a sign for a fresh start and a new beginning.
I look back at Gareth, whose smouldering gaze is boring straight through me. Squinting through the rain, I push a couple of wet strands off my face and plead with him one more time. “Jump out of the plane with me, Gareth. You don’t need to catch me when we can fly together.”
With a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, we collide into each other. Both moving in at the same time, so it’s a perfect, symmetrical give and take of contact as our mouths connect. Gareth’s hands grab tightly under my legs as he spreads them and lifts me up onto his lap. He leans back, pulling his lips away as I wrap myself around him, my hands hooked behind his neck. Slowly, he brushes back the hair that’s covering my eye as he takes in every inch of my face. A deep shiver runs up my spine that has nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with the look in Gareth’s eyes.
His gaze drops to my lips and he covers my mouth with his, a groan rattling through his entire chest as he holds my face where he wants me. His tongue demands entry, so I part my lips and welcome him gladly. He tastes of rain, and sea, and pure man. I arch into him and rock myself on his lap, desperate to feel him inside of me.
It’s been weeks since our shower together at my house. He was concussed then, so we couldn’t do all that we desired. But feeling his firmness nudging at my opening, I can tell he has recovered one hundred percent. Maybe he’s ready to claim me like he promised once before.
“Gareth,” I sigh, scooping my hips up into him and relishing in the feeling of his rough palms on my bare back. “I want this.”
“Me too, Sloan.”
“Treacle,” I correct, dragging my tongue down his neck.
Suddenly, he pulls back and grabs my face, pinning me with a harsh look in his eyes. “Sloan,” he repeats. “I’m calling you Sloan. And I’m taking you inside before I fuck you here in the rain.”
I pull my lip into my mouth and nod. “Whatever you say, boss.”
A tiny flicker of a smile ripples over his face, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came. Without another word, he stands up, tucks me under his arm, and hurries me back toward the resort.
It’s quite a trek in the wet sand and rain. By the time we get back to our suite, we’re completely soaked to the bone. When the door clicks shut, it’s like an audible warning for what’s to come. Gareth’s heat moves in close behind me, his warmth radiating like a furnace all over my exposed skin.
Slowly, he walks around to face me, and I cast my eyes downward as a sign of respect. To show him I’m taking this moment seriously.
True BDSM is never really what Gareth and I had together. We were a simple power exchange. But tonight, I’m hoping to explore new territory with him because we are changed. We are more. And I want to go all in because the thrill coursing through my veins is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Gareth lifts my chin so I’m forced to look at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he husks, his eyes raking up and down my body like every inch belongs to him.
I smirk and reply, “I probably look like a wet rat right now.”
“You look beautiful.” He leans in and drops a kiss on my shoulder. “Messy and perfect.”
His hand slides around me to grab the ribbon tie on my dress. With a tug, he undoes the bow and the shoulders of my dress instantly fall down to my elbows, exposing my bare breasts.
Biting his lower lip, he slowly peruses my chest before bringing his hands up and testing the weight of them in his palms. “Still the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, dipping his head down and wrapping his lips around my nipple.
“Gareth,” I cry out as one hand slices through his hair and the other grasps his shoulder for balance as he sucks hard on my nub. I silently beg for him to slip his fingers lower, into my damp panties so I can feel him inside of me. Feel the pressure of his hands on me. I’m dying for the sensation.
He pauses his assault on my breast and moves to the other. But before he gives equal attention to that nipple, he states in a deep, guttural voice, “You know what’s more beautiful than dominance and submission, Sloan?”
I’m two seconds away from shoving my nipple into his mouth because I’m aching for the symmetry, but I manage to husk out a garbled, “What?”
“No boundaries at all.” He straightens to stare deep into my eyes. The wicked promise in his has my entire body trembl
ing. He licks his lips and adds, “Someday, I will claim you and do things that will have you begging for mercy. But right now, Sloan Montgomery…Right now…” He leans in to brush his lips against the corner of my mouth and whispers, “I’m going to make love to you.”
My legs instantly give out from under me as he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me over to the giant, white, fluffy bed. He pulls the covers back and lays me on the cool sheets. His eyes remain locked on mine as he proceeds to remove the rest of my clothing, along with his own so we’re both completely naked.
Now, here we lie, flesh on flesh, hearts on hearts, souls on souls. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever been with a man in my life. Even when Callum and I were together, it never felt anything like this. I didn’t know it could feel like this. So…close.
Gareth kisses me as he holds himself over top of me to gently part my legs. He kisses me as he slides his fingers down my ribs. He kisses me as he caresses my entrance. He kisses me as he nudges his bare tip inside of me, inch by perfect inch. When he pushes into me as deep as my tense body will allow, my head lifts off the pillow. My hands clutch so tightly around his neck and my legs squeeze so fiercely along his hips that he knows I need more.
That’s when he begins the thrusting. The slow, calculated, rhythmic, and oh-so wonderful thrusting.
But it’s not the skilled movement of his cock inside of me that has me coming apart at the seams. It’s what he says with each stroke.
“This isn’t temporary, Sloan.” Thrust. “This can be us.” Thrust. “We can be more.” Thrust. “We aren’t just one thing.” Thrust.
“You’re my Treacle and my Sloan.”
Thrust.
“You’re mine.”
Thrust.
“Mine, mine, mine.”
Thrust, thrust, thrust.
Gareth Harris makes love to me like only a man who loves a woman could. I clutch his body to mine, stare into his eyes, and accept his gloriously perfect words. And I wonder to myself when the hell I started falling for him, because there is no way this emotion inside of me is new. This is something that’s been with me for some time now. It’s familiar and comfortable.
