Page 50 of The Retreat

I get our food and bring it into the bedroom. Owen has found a tray somewhere and set it up on the mattress. He’s once again in dark silk pajamas, but this time they’re blue.

I set the food on the tray, and he unpacks the bag while I get changed. Once again, I wear my “Ask me about my tongue” crop top and some short shorts.

Owen gives me an unamused look when he sees it, but I laugh as I climb on the bed and sit on the opposite side of the tray from him.

We eat in silence for a few minutes before I have to know if he’ll let me suck him off again.

“So, on the scale of ‘never again’ to ‘right this second’, how was the blowjob?”

“Colin.” My name is a warning.

“But was it sticky?”

“No,” he admits.

“Then I should be able to do it again.” I smile triumphantly.

“Why? What do you get out of it?”

“You mean besides your gorgeous cock in my mouth and a stomach full of cum?”

He blushes a little. “Yes.”

“Spank bank material.”

“What?”

“Knowing I got you off, that you enjoyed yourself, gets me off. I could jack off while I do it, but that would get…messy.”

Owen absorbs that information but doesn’t ask anything else, which is fine. I’ve pushed him too much today as it is.

When we’re done eating, I clear our mess, and Owen slides into bed for the first time since we moved in here. I like seeing him in here.

I turn out the light and suddenly feel a little nervous. I take my time getting into bed beside him. I’m desperate to cuddle, but I don’t know if he actually wants to or not, and I don’t want him to leave.

“This isn’t cuddling.”

“Do you want to?”

“I want you to get your needs met.”

Ouch.

“That’s not what I asked.” My tone is a little harsher than I meant for it to be, but that stung. He doesn’t want to touch me, to cuddle me. He’s only allowing it because he needs me to keep pretending to be in love with him.

“I’ve never really cuddled with someone that wasn’t Oliver, so I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you want me to touch you?”

With a frustrated huff, he turns toward me and pulls me against him. “I don’t know how to do this.”

I roll onto my side to face him. “How to do what?”

“This. Relationship, human nature stuff.”

“Are you an alien? A robot? Raised by wolves?”

“Have you met my parents? Yes, I was raised by wolves.”

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