by Amy Daws
“We were!” he exclaims, thrusting a hand through his hair and making no fucking sense.
“Then what the hell is the problem?” I cry.
“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I don’t even know how your lips taste!”
His response knocks the wind out of me. He’s deathly serious from his spot on the bed, his bare chest heaving with anger. His muscles tensed in frustration. Veins protruding down his arms like angry lines on a map.
This is not what I expected from him. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what I expected. A terrified part of my mind thought he found out about Sophia, but all he wants are my lips? He wants to kiss me?
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask.
He exhales like it hurts. “You hold this enormous part of yourself away from me and it drives me mad.”
I huff out an incredulous laugh. “If that’s what you want, then maybe you should be a man and ask for it instead of picking a damn fight!”
His eyes fly wide. “I can’t ask for it because those aren’t our rules! You decide everything. I just…submit.”
The word coming out of his mouth looks painful for him to say. Honestly, I don’t like hearing him say it. I know that we’re in some version of a dominant and submissive situation, but it doesn’t feel like that to me. It feels like a luxury. Like an arrangement we were both enjoying. But if he’s not enjoying it because he can’t kiss me, it’s not okay. Part of my job is to make sure he’s okay. I’m also nowhere near ready for our arrangement to be over. The thought of Gareth pulling away because of this hard-line has anxiety climbing in my chest.
“Well, you can kiss me,” I utter, my voice soft in the quiet room.
“Is that an order?” Gareth asks, his shoulders tense and full of brooding. Full of…Gareth.
“No,” I reply quickly. That’s not how this should happen. I can’t command him to kiss me. If it’s important enough for him to pick a fight with me about, it needs to be on his terms. “In fact, I don’t want you to do it now. I want you to do it when you want to do it. When it feels right for you.”
“That’s not part of our deal,” he states, clearly confused.
“I know. If you don’t like the idea, tell me and we can forget the whole thing.”
“I like it.” His voice is soft, his eyes downcast, like he’s ashamed to be saying these words.
I nod slowly. “Then a kiss is yours. Whenever you want it, I’ll accept it.”
He nods and stares down at the empty side of the bed.
“Do you really think I’m sadistic?”
“No,” he croaks painfully and slides off the edge of the bed. “I just said that to hurt you. I think you’re incredible.”
I cross my arms over my chest, still upset over the tone he took with me. Maybe I’m not giving him enough attention after we do what we do. Aftercare is an important factor in unconventional relationships.
“I don’t want anything to change between us, Treacle,” he says, staring back at me like I’m a wild animal that’s going to bolt.
“Are you sure?” I ask, needing the confirmation again.
He nods, his eyes full of sadness and shame and a whole mess of emotions I’m too exhausted to dissect. “I’m sorry I said all of that. I didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”
I stare back at him. I do know because I know Gareth, sexually and emotionally. I might not know some basic things about his life, but I know who he is. I know he’s not Cal. He’s not manipulating me or trying to control me. He just has feelings.
My voice is soft when I whisper, “I need you to hold me.”
“Anything,” he answers on a breath. In two enormous strides, he pulls me into his arms, his lips raining kisses in my hair. “I’m sorry, Treacle. I’m so sorry.”
I nod against his chest. “I believe you,” I soothe.
I soothe him because we do know each other despite what he says. We know each other better than I’m prepared to admit.
I wake in the middle of the night and find myself completely wrapped around Sloan’s naked body. I thought she was going to go home after our fight, but she didn’t. And even though she offered me something I didn’t realise I was longing for, there was still a sense of uneasiness between us as we went to sleep. Perhaps makeup sex would have helped with the unsettled feeling. Instead, she climbed into bed, turned away from me, and fell asleep without another word.
Now she’s woken me up because she’s moving beneath the blankets. At first, I think she’s awake and interested in that makeup sex after all. But as I unfold myself from her body and sit up to look down at her, it’s clear she’s completely asleep.
Her hips mindlessly swirl in slow, tiny motions. A soft moan escapes her lips. I swear I’ve died and gone to Heaven because it dawns on me that she’s having a sex dream.
Her hand slips under the covers. When she begins touching herself, I think I might fucking lose my bloody mind. She better be thinking about me and not that wanker ex of hers. Our fight tonight probably brought back some old memories, but I hate the idea that she could be thinking of him again. How many years did he not see how incredible she is? How many times did he overlook how much she holds back?
Rather than lie here and let her subconscious decide who’s bringing her pleasure, I take action into my own hands.
Gently, I pull her shoulder so she’s flat against the bed on her back—a position I rarely see from her. Sloan likes to ride on top most of the time. I think it helps her stay in control, but I don’t want to see that hard strength right now. I want to see this vulnerable softness she’s giving me.
I press my hand on top of hers where she’s mindlessly rubbing her mound. As soon as my rough palm joins the pressured movement, she stops.
Her lids flutter open and she looks up at me. Starry pupils dilated. Lips parted. Chestnut hair splayed wildly all around the pillow. “Gareth?” she croaks through her much too large lips.
“Yes,” I murmur and drop a tantalising soft kiss on each swell of her breasts.
“What’s going on?”
“I think you were dreaming,” I reply, kissing the dip between her breasts. “Want to tell me what about?” I pull back and stare down at her. She shakes her head, so I press further. “Can I give you a happy ending?”
She looks hesitant but nods her acceptance.
I move overtop of her, her soft legs wrapping around me and gripping my sides. She looks like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, so without asking, I grasp her wrists and hold them above her head.
“Oh my God,” she moans loudly, her back arching off the bed as I press my tip between her folds. I haven’t even pushed into her yet and she’s dying for it. She raises her hips up toward me with needful wanting. Her brown eyes wide and blinking, staring up at me with a silent request to take her.
Jesus fuck, she wants me to take her. Her guard is completely down, and it’s fucking magic.
This is the moment I could take. I could kiss her. I could accept the gift she offered me earlier this evening, but there’s a part of me that feels like it would be wrong. We’ve been sleeping, and we’re not fully cognizant of our surroundings. When I take Sloan’s lips with mine, I want to remember everything about it. I want to see her face in the light when I do. I need it to matter. I don’t know what’s happening right now, and kissing her would further complicate the situation.
I sink inside of her with a smooth, deep thrust. A low groan escapes my lips as our foreheads press together and I fill her to the brim. God, she feels good. She’s fucking soaked, and soft, and tight, and ready. Like she’s clay under my hands, ready for me to do with as I wish.
I bury my face in her neck and murmur, “You’re fucking soaked. It’s going to take all I have not to come inside of you immediately.”
“Gareth!” Her breath trembles with a sharp intake of air as I thrust in again, gradual and deep.
“And you’re not in charge this time, Treacle.” I nip so
ftly on her neck and suck. “I am.”
“Yes,” she cries, her body rolling under me.
“I’m going to fuck you hard now,” I husk, pulling back and gauging her reaction. “Because I can tell that’s what you want.”
Her eyes are wide as she groans out, “Yes, yes, yes.”
“You want that, Tre?”
“Yes!” she exclaims in clear frustration. “God, Gareth. Just fuck me.”
My fingers squeeze tightly around her wrists, an animalistic urge overtaking me from her husky command, moaning my name in the quiet dark of night. Even when I’m in charge, she has all the power.
I continue holding her hostage as I ram myself in and out of her in needful thrusts. Hard in, slow out. Grinding in deeper and deeper with each stroke. I move one hand down to squeeze her leg in a bruising, punishing grasp. I want to feel every inch of her skin touch mine. I want to be inside of her deeper than any man has ever been.
Her thick lush lips reflect in the faint light of the room. Moist and plump and begging to be fucked by my tongue. I want them for myself. I want to bite and lick them until I taste the moans of her voice. They belong to me after all. But not tonight.
If I take more in this moment, she’ll crumble. I’m also not sure exactly why I want more all of a sudden. In the beginning, I just wanted the freedom her control gave me. When we fucked and she was in charge, I didn’t have to think about my family, my past, my future. I just had to listen to her commands and appreciate everything she was giving me.
But somewhere in the last couple of weeks, things have shifted. For once, my mind isn’t getting in the way. My mind and my dick are in sync, and they want to fuck her. Own her. Make her mine in this single moment in time.
So I do exactly that. I fuck her brains out until the most powerful climax I’ve ever had tears through both of us…
…destroying everything I thought we were.
MY PHONE RINGS FROM THE cupholder in my car, and I see Gareth’s name pop up for the third time today.
Freya eyes the screen from her spot beside me. “Please tell me you’re going to answer that.”
“I’m not,” I reply and shoot her a scathing look.
“You can’t possibly be ghosting him again. You already tried that once and it didn’t take.”
“I’m not ghosting him. I have Sophia this week. He knows I’m busy.”
“Why are you still hiding her from him? It’s obvious you two are a semi-regular thing now.”
My hands wrap tighter around the wheel. There is no way in hell I’m telling Gareth about Sophia. We’re already blurring so many lines because I can’t seem to quit digging into his personal life.
I cut a look at Freya. “Telling him I’m a mother will personalise things even more than we already have, and I can’t handle that right now. We’re just having sex. He’s okay with that.”
“Then why aren’t you taking his calls?”
“Because I don’t know what I want to say!”
She sighs heavily. “You snuck out of his house before he woke up Saturday. He’s been calling you all weekend, even when he’s been busy with a home football game. It’s Monday now. You’ve had some time to breathe. Just talk to him and stop being a bitch.”
“I am not being a bitch!” I argue, my hands clenching the wheel in a death grip. “I’m trying to figure out how to handle this. We had an agreement and he broke it. Now I’m trying to decide what it all means before I talk to him.”
“Well, considering we’re going right by his house in a few minutes, I hope you’re going to talk to him today. He lost his game Saturday. He’s probably feeling awful.”
“We have a fitting with Brandi.”
“I can take care of the fitting. You should take the car and go over to his house. Fix this so you stop obsessing over your mobile.”
I frown as I turn down the private drive toward Hobo’s home. “Gareth might not even be home and I’m supposed to be out of town.” I glance at his gate with a forlorn sort of pit in my belly. I hate that he lost his game on top of what’s going on between us.
“You are impossible!” Freya tuts with a growl. “If I had a man like Gareth Harris phoning me nonstop, I’d never let it go to voicemail. You have issues, love.”
“Don’t I know it,” I murmur.
When we pull onto Hobo and Brandi’s property, I learn that my issues can no longer be ignored. Gareth is sitting on the front step of Hobo’s house and he does not look happy.
Freya’s green eyes fly wide. “He looks pissed. Christ, he’s sexy.”
I shut the car off and swallow slowly. “I don’t care.”
She shakes her head and slides out of the car. “I’m just going to nip in with these gowns and get started with Brandi. You, erm…take care of business.” Freya shuffles awkwardly with the garment bags in the backseat and turns to see Gareth pass by her in his pursuit to me.
My heart lurches when I realise Sophia’s booster seat is still in the back, so I hurry away from my vehicle toward two quaint little outbuildings.
I shoot an angry look at Gareth. “Over here,” I snap, pointing to the alleyway between two dilapidated barns that look to be at least a hundred years old.
I make my way down the narrow alley between the two moss-covered brick structures and can feel Gareth’s eyes burning holes into my back. When I turn to face him, the expression on his face is similar to that of a cornered bear.
“We need to talk,” he growls, the vein on his neck looking like it could burst at any moment.
“This is not okay!” I exclaim, stepping into his space and poking his chest with my finger. I’m taking control of this conversation. Not him. He’s one-upped me enough this week.
He wraps his hand around my finger. “What you’re doing is not okay!”
“Gareth, I am working right now!” I seethe, yanking my finger away and balling my hands into fists at my sides. “You can’t just show up at an appointment of mine and demand to speak to me.”
Gareth gestures angrily toward the house. “You told me you were travelling! So imagine my surprise when Hobo said you were coming over today.”
“I am travelling. I leave…later,” I lie, unable to look him in the eyes as I do so. “This is the second time you’ve made me look ridiculous in front of Hobo and Brandi!”
“Bollocks,” he growls. “Stop fucking ghosting me and I won’t have to show up like this!”
“I’m not ghosting you!” I retort, running a frustrated hand through my hair. “I’m travelling and…processing.”
“Processing what? The fact that I fucked you and not the other way around for once?”
“Exactly!” I respond, my voice rising in pitch as I lean into him, desperate to drive my point across. “That wasn’t part of our arrangement. I need boundaries for this to work, Gareth.”
“Why?” he bites back, his eyes dropping to my lips.
I fumble with my thoughts for a moment, terrified he might kiss me. I gave him that gift, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it if he takes it now. I shake my head and muster up all my strength. “I don’t want to turn back into the person I once was, Gareth. The reason this arrangement was working is because we had clear expectations of each other. If we’re going to keep doing this, that cannot happen again.”
“I don’t want you to change, Sloan!” he exclaims, his gaze raking slowly over my body. His hazel eyes turn to fire as he blatantly undresses me in his mind. His voice is softer when he adds, “I was just doing my due diligence. You seemed to be getting awfully worked up in your sleep, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable down there.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes sends a traitorous jolt of need right between my legs and my knees wobble. I inhale a big gulp of air, feeling my cheeks heat so much I have to look away from him when I reply, “I need to know that nothing’s changed, Gareth.”
“Nothing’s changed,” he states and moves in closer to me, backing me up against the cool bricks. “Yo
u’re still in charge, and I still want to lose myself when I’m with you. But I need you to not run every time you get scared.”
He cages me, his heat enveloping all around me. It would be so easy to turn into a puddle of goo right in front of him. He has a strong presence that I could lose myself in completely. But if I want to continue this arrangement, I need to hold my feelings and personal life at bay and correct him. The way he’s approaching me right now is like a dog with no discipline.
I’m not going to let him alpha me anymore.
Narrowing my eyes, I shove both hands against his hard chest and push him backwards against the other building. Shock registers on his face first, then excitement. Fiery, passionate, lusty excitement.
My voice is firm when I reply, “I’m not scared. And fine, no more ghosting. Just remember who’s in charge and we’ll be able to continue this.” I stare down at his lips and lean in. “Now go home before I decide you need something more painful than hot wax or my hand next time I see you.”
His nostrils flare with a possessive thrill. “When will I see you again?”
Sophia instantly comes to mind. “I get back next Monday.”
His brow furrows. “You sure travel a lot.”
“Gareth!” I scold, stifling my anxiety over how I’m going to keep this up much longer if he’s already pushing back like this. “This isn’t a relationship. This is an arrangement you are breaking right now. If you want this to continue, why are you questioning me?”
He lifts his hands up in surrender. “All right, Monday.”
“Monday.”
Without another word, I turn sharply on my heel. My hair flicks in his face before I stride away with my back straight and shoulders high. The weight of his heated stare on me is enough to make my steps falter.
My greatest challenge isn’t controlling Gareth.
It’s controlling myself.
STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF the pitch at The Cliff, I am pummelled by a memory of when I was about six years old and Mum had brought me out here to watch Dad practice. We were allowed on the pitch, and I remember picking several blades of grass and putting them in my pocket with big dreams of becoming a footy player just like my dad. He looked so massive out here with all the other players. I remember thinking how cool it was that they got to play football every day for their job.
