Page 74 of Saving Ren
She nods.
“Words Lauren, use your words.”
“I know, I know you wouldn’t, you just seemed pissed off at the shops, and I thought. . .” She shrugs as she trails off, and again I feel like a dick. “I don’t know what I thought, but I know you wouldn’t hurt me. I wouldn’t be here If I thought for a second you would. It’s a bad habit I’ve gotten into, always thinking I’ve done something wrong, that I’m gonna be in trouble, and that’s on me. It’s something I need to work on.”
She lets out a sigh, and I kiss her nose. I want to kiss more than her nose, kiss her in other places, but right now, I want her to chill out and relax.
“You want a quick lunch, and then we’ll get in the spa. Was it warm enough when you used it with the girls?”
“It was perfect, but I don’t have anything to wear in the spa.”
“What did you wear when you went in with the girls?” I question. Trying not to think of four naked women bouncing about in my spa.
“Just a crop top and a pair of your jocks.”
My dick twitches and I have to physically shake my head to clear the image of Lauren in a wet crop top. I saw her naked tits this morning, which was fucking amazing, but the thought of them in wet clothing is making me hard.
“That’ll work, or naked’s fine. No one can see us.”
“I’m not getting in the spa naked.You’llsee me, even if the neighbours can’t.” Her voice rises, and she pushes against my chest. I hold her tighter.
“I’m not seeing a problem here, Ren. You’ve been sleeping in my bed. You were practically naked in front of me this morning. I had your tits in my hands, and in my mouth the morning before I left. What’s the problem if you get naked in the spa?”
“That’s different. We were. . . I wasn’t.”
“You’re gorgeous. I want you naked in my spa, in my bed, in my house, anywhere I can have you naked, that’s the way I want you.”
“Seriously, Gabe. No one needs to see that. You obviously have never dated an older woman.”
My mouth opens and closes because I’m unsure how to respond to that assumption.
“We really gonna go over this again?” I finally question.
“Yes!Because I’m old and insecure,” she snaps, still trying to fight her way out of my arms. “I’m forty-four. I’ve carried and given birth to two children, and my body shows all of that. Stretch marks, wobbly bits. I’m not tight and toned. I don’t have flawless skin like one of your twenty-five-year-old Gabettes from the pub.”
“Did I go home with any of those women from the pub? Did I have anything more than a two-minute conversation with them?”
Once again, holding her face up towards mine, I give her no choice but to meet my eyes as I look down at her. I’m pissed off with the assumptions she’s made about me. The kind of assumptions everyone makes about me.
“No, I fucking didn’t. I gavethemthe flick and spent the night talking toyou. I walkedyouto the taxi rank, and I went to Jo’s the next night to seeyou, Ren. I didn’t call one of them, didn’t hook up with one of them. I went to Jo’s because I wanted to seeyou.”
She licks her lips, sighs, and closes her eyes for a long moment. I give her that moment to take in what I’ve just said. Then, I keep talking, this time quieter.
“I chose you. Despite seeing the bruises, despite you telling me you had a husband you were about to leave, despite you telling me you had a lot going on, I chose you. You’re here, somewhere none of those women have ever, ever been. So, can we please just stop with all this bullshit about your age and the condition of your body?”
I pause, but she says nothing, just staring up at me while breathing heavily instead.
“Do you really think so little of me, think that I'm that fucking shallow?”
“No, I didn’t think. . .”
I step away from her. She’s pushed my buttons, and now I’m triggered. Needing to work off some of my anger and disappointment at her words, I move to the other side of the kitchen island.
“No, you didn’t fucking think. Is there anything I’ve done to make you think I only brought you here to fuck you? That I’m only interested in the way you look? I brought you home here when you were beaten black and blue. If I cared that much about your appearance, would I have done that?”
She shakes her head as I pace and rant. I need to say what I have to say, then if she wants to stick around to have her say, she can do that, or she can leave.
Okay, not leave. That’s definitely not what I want her to do.
