Fool for Love (Believe #2) (22 page)

Control isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I’m tired of the restraints I keep putting on myself. I want to be young, wild, and free, like the song says, and try to worry less about the future for now. To live in the moment and see where that will take me. Instead of acting like I’m a woman in my mid-thirties who’s supposed to know where she’s going with her life. And I actually think that half of those women haven’t the faintest clue, either, but simply keep winging it, doing the best they can every day.

Technically, I guess I don’t need to know all the answers right away. I only need to remember to follow my instincts – to listen to them and trust them when they tell me to go a certain direction.

Feeling a lot calmer and determined than I did earlier this morning, I dry my face and leave the bathroom.

“Oh, my,” I sigh as Garrett’s mouth closes on my nipple, laving it with his tongue. I’m tied up on the bed, spread-eagled before him, and the blindfold hindering my eyesight makes my other senses work in overtime. I can’t control my breathing. I feel something wet and sticky on my tummy, and it’s cold. Garrett’s beard tickles me when his mouth licks my stomach, and I giggle while trying to keep still.

“Hush,” he growls softly. His hands hold onto my thighs now, pinning me down.

“I’m trying,” I gasp as he rolls his hips, his cock hitting me in just the right spot. My clit throbs almost painfully, hating the slow pace yet marvelling at it at the same time. His hair covers my torso, burning my nerve endings, and I can feel the familiar fire pick up pace as he continues his torturous ministrations.

“Stop, waif,” he says when I push up my hips, biting gently on my nipple. The pain mixed with the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“I have to…I have to move,” I breathe. A sense of failure hits me. “Garrett…I can’t…”

I don’t know if he can hear the frustration in my voice but his hands move from my legs, and I can feel his weight covering me from head to toes. He brushes his lips across mine, and the softness makes me want to cry.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, all the while moving gently inside me. The sweetness is hard to take. “You’re exquisite. So responsive – incredible.”

I moan when his thrusts become deeper, and his kiss hardens, overtaking my senses completely. The taste of the tiramisu mingled with his own captivates me. His hands are on my cheeks, controlling me, and I feel a lightness mixed with the intensity coursing through my being. His lips leave mine for a second, and he breathes, “Fuck, Suzy. What are you doing to me?”

He doesn’t give me time to answer before his mouth closes on mine once more. His cock fills me, and he quickens his pace, causing me to moan deeply. I move my hips, eager to meet him, to show him with my body that I can match him; to show him that I’m willing for him to take me as far as he wants.

Just as I feel the rush of wetness in my pussy intensify, he grunts and stills above me. The orgasm tearing through me isn’t a volcanic explosion this time; it is more like a quiet flame growing until it erupts in a burst of light behind my closed eyes. It’s unlike any I have ever felt before, and it lasts for a long time.

Just like the man, it consumes me, and I can’t seem to gather my thoughts at all.

However, one thought penetrates: he hasn’t moved away from me. I wouldn’t call it cuddling, but his comforting weight surrounding me doesn’t leave.

I clear my throat as quietly as possible, hoping to prolong this moment between us.

My hope is shut down when he grumbles, “Fucking best lay I’ve ever had.”

It reminds me that Garrett doesn’t feel anything more than a physical desire for me; that he doesn’t harbour any romantic notions about our future.

Despite my heart bleeding right now, it’s actually a good reminder for me to refrain from any fantasies about him that includes a happily-ever-after. I have to keep telling myself that, or I’ll never survive this.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “Could you please untie me and remove the blindfold, Sir? I’m beginning to feel numb.”

“Of course.” His body weight leaves me, and I breathe deeply now that he isn’t crushing me anymore. The soreness between my legs becomes more noticeable as he leaves me, and I groan slightly.

“I don’t think I can handle more lessons today,” I mumble, yawning. He chuckles as I feel his hands behind my head, untying the blindfold.

“Don’t worry, waif, I don’t think I can handle more, either. At least not until tomorrow.”

His words send a delicious thrill through me even though they shouldn’t. I’m utterly spent, and I need sleep. I don’t even know what time it is.

The light hitting my eyes makes me squint even though the apartment is only softly lit, and I wiggle my fingers and turn to take in his form as he kneels beside me.

“How are you able to keep going for so long?” I ask him. “You’re supposed to be old, remember?”

The crooked smile grazing his lips as I tease him delights me, and my tummy fills with warmth.

“Years of practice,” he answers, tone light. “Discipline. I take good care of my body in case you haven’t noticed.”

Oh, I’ve noticed, alright.

“Cocky, aren’t you?” I reply drily. My gaze lands on his cock as he removes the condom. I lick my lips but the pinpricks settling in my arms and hands as they are freed from the restraints distract me from my perusal, and I wince.

He ignores my flippant remark.

“Sit up,” he orders. He ties the condom, tossing it on the floor, before he moves to sit behind me. It’s like my own little cocoon of warmth.

I do as he asks and sigh deeply when he begins to massage my neck and shoulders. The achiness in my limbs subsides slowly as he seems to bring some feeling back in my arms. I close my eyes, leaning back into his chest.

I think I could live here forever. I’ve never had a man see to my sexual needs like Garrett has done in such a short amount of time. The silence between us is not oppressing anymore; and while I have no illusions about our relationship status changing, I still feel the man behind me is virtually a stranger to me. I chance another glance at all his tattoos, wondering about the stories they represent – because I have no doubt that they all hold a special meaning to Garrett, like most tattoos do – but I don’t think he’s ready for that kind of conversation.

The date above his heart puzzles me the most, yet I don’t have the courage to ask him about that particular tat. It must have been a very significant moment for him if it caused him to have it inked permanently on his body – a reminder for all eternity.

The fact that it’s also the date when I first met him speaks to my romantic heart even though it shouldn’t.

“So,” I muse and stretch when Garrett’s deft hands keep massaging my neck. “Now that we are no longer unacquainted in the biblical sense, can I ask you a personal question?”

His hands still and I hold my breath until he continues his ministrations on my body once more.

“It depends on the question,” he murmurs. The hint of hesitation in his voice makes me sad for some reason.

“Well, it’s not a difficult one. Have you always wanted to be a cook?”

He lets out a relieved breath, and his fingers move down my back.

“Yes, actually,” he answers. I feel more at ease when he doesn’t stop talking. “I have always loved food, and when my Nonna - grandmother Rosa - realised that my father and brothers had no interest in the business, she set out to teach me how to take over her and my grandfather’s restaurant early on in my life.”

“Oh? How old were you?” I ask, relieved that this topic is safe for him.

“Hmm…” He shifts behind me. I place my hands on his thighs, resting on either side of me, and lean back, drowsiness overtaking my body. “I think I was about twelve or thirteen when I started to spend most Sundays at the restaurant. At first, I dragged my feet, because I’d rather spend my weekends with my friends, but I couldn’t refuse. My father ordered me to go, and that was final. However…” He stops and I relax further into his chest when he begins to trail whisper-soft caresses up and down my left arm. His voice is low, hesitant, when he continues his tale. “…soon, I realised that I loved it there. I enjoyed spending time with Nonna – man, she could tell a fun tale! – but I also came to love cooking fairly quick.” He chuckles and stops caressing me. “I guess it’s in my blood.”

I smile. “I guess so. That’s a nice story.”

I want to ask him more questions about his family, but my instincts tell me I should wait.

Silence settles between us once more, and I contemplate on moving away from his warmth when he gives my shoulder a soft shake.

“It’s time to sleep, waif. I’ll just go call Rowan for you.”

I groan. “Ugh. I hope you were right before about him not giving me the boot because I failed to show up tonight.”

I scoot to the edge of the bed and stand on wobbly legs.

“I’m always right,” Garrett grumbles. I turn to look him over.

“I was right before. You’re very cocky.” I smile when his lips lift infinitesimally, and I can tell from his tired eyes that he must be just as exhausted as I am right now.

“I guess I am. Goodnight, waif.” He stands up and I nod once as he passes me, trying to not let the hurt that he won’t stay with me shine.

“Goodnight, Garrett,” I whisper and take a step to the bathroom. I’m stopped briefly when his hand touches my arm, and I turn my head with raised eyes, waiting for his next move.

“Thank you,” he whispers before he releases me and walks away. I’m left stunned, jittery even, because that’s the last thing I expected from him. How odd. As he walks to the kitchen, I admire the firm muscles of his back and his gorgeous arse. I bite my lip, barely catching myself from calling out to him. My body can’t take any more lessons from him tonight.

But there’s always tomorrow as long as I remember where I stand.

Keeping up appearances in this sexual relationship with Garrett is essential for my wellbeing.

For my heart.

“‘
Thank you?’
What the fuck, dude?” I mutter to myself when Suzy’s out of earshot. I sounded pathetic. What I meant to say was that I feel privileged that she is submitting to me, but I have a feeling she didn’t get my meaning.

Hell, I don’t even know what I meant.

Sighing, I watch her walk away, admiring her swaying hips and ass. Once she’s left me alone, I pick up my phone to call Rowan. That little prick better not be set on causing her any problems, or he’ll have me to answer to.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Well, Garrett, what an unwelcome surprise. To what do I owe this honour?” he slurs.

I grimace but choose to ignore his intoxicated state.

“Suzy couldn’t make her shift. Some kind of stomach bug caught her, so I’m calling to tell you that she’s sorry, but she probably won’t be in until later this week.”

The lies fall easily from my lips, like always.

“Oh, really?” He doesn’t buy it. “I was wondering how long it would take you to bang her, Garrett. I must say she held out longer than I thought she would; when I saw your address on her application, I laughed my ass off.”

My blood boils from hearing the absolute disrespect of the woman in my bed, but it won’t do to lose my temper now.