Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Honey and almond.” I release him, giving him a quick kiss before moving to the oven where the bowls of treacle sponge and custard are keeping warm. “Sit. I’ll serve.”
He does as he’s told, thankfully.
We enjoy our food in more silence. That’s one thing I love about us: there are peaceful times where we can just enjoy each other’s company without having to be in each other’s faces all of the time. Neither of us craves attention from the other because we both get it when needed.
When we finish, I stack the dishes by the sink and stand in between Nathan’s parted legs. My finger nails scrape his scalp and he leans his head forward and sighs. I move them down to his neck, determined to seduce him into not using a condom.
His hands, which rest on his parted legs, gently touch the sides of my thighs. I lift one leg over his and then the other and lower myself onto his lap.
“You are so beautiful,” he mumbles almost to himself and presses his lips to mine. “I woke up this morning and couldn’t believe that for once in my life I’ve finally gotten what I want.”
I give him a soft smile, trying to hide the turmoil within me that wishes for the same. A brief flash of Caleb appears behind my eyelids after I close my eyes. I’ll never get what I want because what I want is impossible to obtain. I hate myself for feeling this way.
He waits for a while, his eyes clearly expecting a response. I don’t know what to give him, so I kiss him again, trying to torment him with my tongue. It works, or it seems to, as he moans long and low. I feel it vibrate through his chest and into mine, which is pressed up against him. Amazing.
The world fades out around me. Nothing matters but him.
I lie awake, my heart pounding and my body covered in a thin layer of sweat. Nathan is in the shower, no doubt washing me from his skin under a cold spray. He didn’t orgasm, yet again. I’m starting to feel self-conscious. He also didn’t undress again, or push all of the way inside… again.
And there’s the fact he took me from behind… again.
I’m trying not to be offended or irritated, truly I am, I just can’t. There’s clearly something wrong and I want to know what it is, right now. Not in two weeks!
Turning over, I tuck the blanket between my legs and close my eyes, praying that I fall asleep before Nathan comes back into the room so he doesn’t see how much he’s tormenting me. It’s not his fault. I just wish he’d help me understand. How am I supposed to get closer to him if he keeps me at arm’s length?
Literally and figuratively.
That’s the only part that’s his fault, not explaining why he is the way he is.
It’s so darn frustrating.
“Gwen?” He whispers moments after, entering the room and climbing into bed. “Gwen?” He says a little bit louder this time as his fingers drag my hair from my shoulder. He pulls it up so it’s fanned out above my head. I remain perfectly relaxed and try to keep my breathing even.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, he wraps an arm around me and presses his face into the back of my neck.
When sleep finally claims me, it’s not a peaceful one.
“You look tired,” Mum comments warily, holding her cup of toxic tea close to her face.
I turn the page in the newspaper and shrug. “Didn’t sleep well. How are things with you and the new guy?”
She smiles like a love sick teenager and even swoons a little. “His name is George and he is perfect.”
My smile isn’t fake when I respond. “That’s great. When can I meet him?”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” She places her cup down and snatches the newspaper from me. I roll my eyes when she holds it over her shoulder, moments before Nathan enters the kitchen and takes it from her. “He’d like to take us out for dinner on Sunday night. I know you’re in London until then, so if you’re too tired we can…”
“Sunday’s fine.” I look to Nathan, who nods his consent.
“I’ll watch Dillan then.” Nathan, who takes the seat opposite, opens the newspaper and flattens it down on the table top with his leather clad hands.
“Speaking of Dillan…” I say, when his bawling travels from the living room. I pad through and pick him up carefully. He smiles at the sight of me and I return it with just as much enthusiasm. “Love you my lickle baba.”
“Grab my phone, Gwen. I need to let George know.” The way she says his name is almost sickening. Why she needs sugar in her tea I’ll never know. She should just spit in it.