Page 21 of His Gift
"Yes. I was going to play with you—and I'm ashamed of it, by the way. I was going to let you stew about what happened. And I wanted to stay free. I can't really see myself in prison. But I'd come back. I don't want—I can't stay without you."
"And if in the end I'll never see what you see? If I never accept it?"
That's a very good question. And she won't like the answer. "I don't see it happening. I can't imagine a future that's inconceivable to me."
She sighs and snuggles closer. How can she not see, not feel, how perfect we are?
sixteen
Harper
Iwake up with a tear running down my cheek.
It has been a tough week. The weirdest of my life, and given what I just remembered about my past, that's saying something.
I have to deal with it, but it's overwhelming. It's overwhelming that instead of taking me to therapy, my parents—my mom—did her best to pretend it never happened. That instead of making me feel safe, she made me feel guilty, ugly, not enough. And it's overwhelming that shecompleted her job by making me marry a man who never really cared about me. Thank fuck he already had children and didn't want more. I might have caved because of what I'd been made to believe about women and marriage. But I really don't want kids. Ever.
That's one thing Conrad and I have in common.
How crazy is it that he has treated me better than my own family and has made me feel so good about myself—a man who, by his own admission, has no experience with intimacy and relationships, a man who apparently can feel something only for me? Yesterday, his words almost choked me; I felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
I soak in his body heat for another moment before wriggling free from his hold and turning around. He hasn't let go of me all night. The sheets are pooled at our feet, yet I've been warm and cozy the whole time. Tentatively, I run my hand on his chest, along the scar the surgery left. He looks thinner than the first time I saw him. He's not eating properly and I can only imagine he has to follow a strict diet to manage the consequences of his incident. I don't know why he's so obsessed with eating alone.
A low moan rumbles in his chest, and his cock stands to attention. Hmmm, he has melted my mind more times than I can count and we have unfinished business. I wrap my hand around his length and give him a few slow tugs, making his hips jolt. He's awake now, yet he keeps his eyes closed and settles on the mattress more comfortably with a low purr. It makes me smile.
"Open your legs for me." He complies, and I settle between them, running my hands up his thighs before palming his sac. He fists his hands on the pillow. So he's leaving me in control. Good to know. Slowly, I run my tongue from his base to his crown and add a twirl on top. I like how vocal he is. When I take him in my mouth, his hips shoot forward, only to still again as I set a rhythm I can take, going deeper and deeper as I get used to it. His skin is velvety soft on my tongue, his cock twitches in my mouth, and I can feel his legs straining under my fingers. Moans tumble from his lips and I fear he'll rip the pillow apart. With a popping sound, I let go of his cock and stretch to take one of his hands. His eyes fly open and he gives me a puzzled look.
"You can take charge now." I wrap my lips around him and keep my eyes trained on his, but Conrad just trails his hand over my cheek, then grabs the pillow again.
"You're doing amazing, my gift. Keep going."
I don't know if it's true, or if he's just worried about me having another episode, but I choose not to linger on it and instead give him the best orgasm I can. And it looks like I succeeded because he comes with a loud shout, his hips no longer in his control, his hands now fisted in my hair.
"Come up here." He drags me up, wrapping me in his arms, petting my hair and kissing my head. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." I quickly hug him before pushing him away until he releases me, allowing me to stand.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to take a shower and get ready for work." I turn around to look at his sleepy, post-orgasmic face scrunching up in annoyance.
"You still have one week's leave. Let's go somewhere warm and sandy or to a mountain cabin. Or wherever you always wanted to go and never could."
"No. I haven't been in this position long enough for a vacation, especially not a two-week one. I need to show my bosses that they made the right choice putting me in charge. I won't quit my job and I don't plan on getting fired."
His eyes run all over my naked body.
"Okay. I'll come to pick you up for lunch. We can eat something at my apartment and I can say a proper thank you."
"Nope. I usually skip lunch, and when I don't, I have it with my colleagues. Again, I'm new there. I need to blend in and it's high time I made some new friends."
I turn and head for the bathroom, but he follows me.
"Fine, Harper, I'll play your way, but I want to know what you're thinking. Am I allowed back here? Are you on board with giving this relationship a shot?"Exactly the question I was trying to avoid!
"I don't know! Yes, you can come back here. But I don't know ifthiscan even be called a relationship. I really need to go. We'll talk at dinner. Butif you plan on staying here, you have to bring your stuff over. I'm tired of you running off to eat on your own. It can't be healthy for you, anyway."
"No. You're right; it's not. I'll let you get ready, but first…"
