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Was that what I was supposed to do? Simply throw myself at Gareth the next time I saw him? Did I need to walk into his bedroom naked? Was that all it would take to settle this difference of opinion between us?
It certainly worked for the female character in the film. Even now her moans were ringing through the speakers at an almost absurdly loud level?—
“Whoa,” I heard a voice say behind me, and I immediately whirled around.
Gareth and Brooks stood at the entrance of the living room, mouths agape and eyes wide.
“I need to be…elsewhere,” Brooks said before quickly backing out of the room.
I fumbled with the remote, accidentally turning up the volume instead of turning off the salacious pounding that was happening on the screen.
Gareth’s laughter rang out as I finally shut off the TV. His laugh, and how much I loved that sound, was the only thing that kept me from crumbling into a mortified mess.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Gareth asked through his laughter, reeling it in. “Because your hands are clearly visible, and your clothes are fully on.”
I gaped up at him from where I sat on the couch. “I wouldn't do that in the living room!”
Not that I’d done much of that in general. I’d tried a few times over the last few years, but it was always hard for me to get myself in the right headspace, especially because the fear of getting caught overshadowed any form of escapism I could create. It wasn’t like I had a lock on my bedroom door at my father’s house. On the inside, anyway.
Gareth chuckled again. “Angel, you're watching porn in the living room. Is it really a stretch for me to think you'd be touching yourself?”
Something serious flashed in his eyes as he said those words, as if he imagined that exact thing.
I filed away the look, treasuring it. Maybe that was the way to go about things. Maybe I could send him a text, a picture of me doing that exact thing. Maybe that would make him wild with need, like the characters in the movie, and he would bust down my door.
The thought was so outlandish it almost made me laugh.
“Are you going to tell me what you were doing?”
“Educating myself,” I finally answered.
Gareth tilted his head. “You know what sex is, Serenity. I know you were sheltered, but you know what that is.”
“Of course I do,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “But clearly,” I said, emphasizing the way I looked him up and down. “I have zero clue when it comes to getting to that part. Seduction seems to be something I’m lacking.”
Gareth's playful smile dropped, and he slowly spanned the distance between us, placing both palms on the edge of the couch, leaning down so close I swore he was going to kiss me.
“It's not about seduction, angel,” he said, his lips a breath away from mine. “It's about control. And choice. I’m doing my best to give you both.”
“If you're giving me those, then I want?—"
“Serenity, please,” he begged. “It's only been a month. You still flinch if I walk behind you and you don't know I'm in the room. You’re still healing. Even if I forgot all my other reasons, that would be enough to wait. You have to trust me. I'm trying to take care of you.”
He pushed off the couch, heading out of the living room.
I was growing accustomed to the sight of his deliciously muscled back as he left whatever room I was in. Especially anytime I brought up what I needed.
I sank deeper into the couch, hope quickly replacing my mortification.
Gareth was saying all the right things, and maybe if we were on an unlimited timeline, then it would’ve been the sweetest option in the world to wait.
But the clock was ticking.
CHAPTER 7
Gareth
Me: You know, if you need a TV put in your room for private viewings, I can arrange that.
