Page 26 of One More Gift

Saskia is it for me, but we can’t pretend we’re not living different lives right now. Continuing a relationship between London and New York isn’t impossible, but we need this week together to figure out where we go from here. Those kinds of conversations won't be easy with her soon to be ex-husband stomping around the house. Harder still if he’s going to be cuffed to me much longer.

“Got them!”

Finally, Casper grabs hold of the keys, shoving them blindly between us, then immediately dropping them onto the floor.

“Oh, fuck you, you dickhead,” I groan, throwing my head back and accidentally whacking it into his.

“Who are you calling a dickhead?” he thrashes, headbutting me back. “This is all your fucking fault, you know? If you hadn’t turned this into a dick swinging contest, this would never have happened.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who was acting like you’d need to teach me what to do with a vibrator. You’re the one that tipped her over the edge. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

He roars behind me, pulling so hard it feels like my shoulder might pop out of the socket. I shove back with all my weight, pushing as hard as I can until he’s trapped, writhing between me and the wall. He’s strong, but I’m stronger, and a swift elbow to the ribs makes him stop this shit.

“Chill the fuck out, man. We need to get back down to the floor, but we can’t do shit with you acting like a bear in a trap the entire time.”

I give him a few seconds to let his rage subside before pulling us away from the wall.

“Lean back and we’ll squat down together on three, OK?”

“Fine,” he says, his weight pressing against me.

“And let me pick them up this time. On three. One… two… three…”

My attempt at a slow descent is thwarted by his sudden squat, and we both end up crashing to the floor in a heap. By a stroke of luck, the keys are just within reach of my fingertips, but he rolls to his side, dragging me with him.

“Hold still! And let me lead.”

“Just hurry up!” he yells, as if I’m thrilled at the prospect of rolling around on the floor with my dick out for the rest of the day.

“Shut up. I can’t concentrate while you're shouting at me.”

Finally, I get a tiny key between my fingers, and carefully push it into one of the locks, but it won’t turn. I try the other one, and one cuff springs open on my wrist. Extricating my arms from his, I shove him off me and scramble to my feet, while he, still handcuffed, wrestles himself onto his knees.

I have an opportunity to do the funniest thing here. It’s tempting to put the keys out of reach and leave him to it while I follow Saskia to the shower, but he and I share a bond now. In this fucked up escape room, no man is left behind.

“Uncuff me,” he pleads, and I crouch behind him to let him go. The second I free one wrist, he bolts, charging for the stairs while the cuffs still hang from the other.

Chapter 17

Henry

“Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to her.”

I rush after him, tug him back by the waistband of his trousers, and shove him into the kitchen.

“I think we should give her some space. Just let her shower and get her head together.”

His hands fist my t-shirt at the shoulders, his lip curled up into a snarl. “Don’t tell me what to do, you bastard.”

“Oi!” I snap, pushing him up against the kitchen counter. “You need to cool your head too, mate. Just give her a minute. That was intense for all of us.”

In the living room, I find my pants flung across the back of the sofa and tug them up over my hips. Then I wash my hands, run him a glass of water, then one of my own.

“Here, drink that and I’ll find us something stronger.”

I watch his throat roll as he downs it in one, and my dick, more confused than ever, twitches again. Casper is undeniably attractive, all that Italian machismo bubbling under the surface of skin that sports a year-round tan.

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