Stanton Box Set - Page 244

I look down and sip my tea as I nod. Now he wants me, what the hell is going on here? I don’t think he even knows.

“Why are you acting so weird? This isn’t like you. You normally scream at me and fight with me. Why are you being so … controlled?” he asks.

I shrug as my eyes lift to meet his. “Because I’m not doing it again.”

He frowns. “Doing what again?”

“I’m not begging you to be with me, forcing you to be monogamous, screaming like a teenager to get my own way.”

He frowns.

“Josh, one of the reasons I needed time away from you is because I needed time to grow up. I was so crazily in love with you that in our previous relationship I acted like an immature child. I thought I could hold you with tantrums and constant fighting. I was sick with insecurity and jealous all the time, constantly questioning myself about whether you really loved me or not.”

He frowns as he looks at me and listens.

“The reason I can’t be your booty call is because I am desperately in love with you and I know I am not strong enough for you to walk out that door in the morning and not know if I am going to hear from you again or not. I already know I can’t do that.”

He drops his head as he thinks.

“Josh, I know I messed up here and I’m sorry. I should never have pushed you away both of the times that I did. The first time I was out of my head with grief and then, second time, I did it so we could have a real crack at a future together. You would have gotten so sick of the insecure jealous girlfriend constantly fighting with you over every stupid thing that you would have left me anyway in the long run. Joshua, any woman who comes into your world needs to be strong enough to take it on. I wasn’t back then.”

He drops his head as he thinks.

“Josh, I don’t want you to be here because you think that’s what I demand. I want to come home every night and know without a doubt that at around eight o’clock or whatever time it is I am going to hear your keys in the door. And you know why? Because you want to see me, you want me to be the last person you see every day. The first person you wake up to.” I shrug and gesture to the bathroom. “You know how I feel now. Take some time to think about it. I have your money—I haven’t spent a cent of it. Give me your account numbers so I can transfer it back. It’s not your money I wanted Joshua … I wanted you. I will see you around. I’m going to have a shower.”

I stand and rush into the bathroom where I run the water as hot as I can stand it and get in. I stand under the scalding water and go back over the conversation. I think that actually came out pretty well. I have been practising that speech for months. It took all of my might not to scream at him in the restaurant and tell him to fuck off, but I know that if we are to have a future together I need to grow up. I want an adult relationship not a volatile teenage crush.

After about fifteen minutes the bathroom door opens and he walks in. “Can I stay tonight?” he asks as he very carefully looks at my face and not my body. “No sex,” he whispers as he continues to look at my face.

I smirk and nod and turn my back on him, and he leaves the room.

I smile to myself and wash my legs. I wonder what the night

will bring. No sex, this should be interesting.

Chapter 17

Shit, now I have done it. I feel like a mother who is punishing a child and then wants to renege on the punishment. How am I supposed to sleep with that beautiful man all night and not have sex. Who am I kidding? Once again, this isn’t punishment for him. I’m punishing my stupid self. I take my time finishing up and drying myself and I leave the bathroom with a towel around my chest. I walk back into the kitchen and flick on the jug. Joshua’s eyes follow me across the room. He throws his arm across the back of the lounge and ticks his jaw and cracks his neck as his eyes drop down my body. I swallow a golfball lump in my throat.

I remind myself, short-term pain … long-term gain. Short-term pain… long-term gain. What a stupid saying—who thinks up this shit? Probably some superhero workout idiot at 5 am in the morning. I’m in short-term pain alright—my ovaries are about to escape my body and crash tackle him on the lounge. I shake my head and continue to make my tea.

“Do you want another?” I ask, without lifting my eyes from my teacup.

He shakes his head again. “No thanks.” He bites his bottom lip and continues to watch the television. How odd, so he wants to stay but has said no sex and now he is watching television and is seemingly disinterested in talking to me. What’s my plan of attack? Hmm, ok, get dressed.

I walk back into the bedroom and start ratting through my pyjamas drawer looking for a matching pair. Honestly, why am I such a dag? I really should own a decent pair of matching sexy pyjamas at my age. After much deliberation I decide on a white cotton nightgown. It’s either that or mismatched boy-leg shorts and a crop top … and they just don’t cut it in this I-need-to-be-sexy- without-trying environment. Mum bought this nightie a couple of years ago and in all honesty I have worn it a total of five times. It has a low round neck with shoestring straps and little white flowers embroidered around the bodice area. It is crisp white cotton and hangs just below my knees. Mental note to self, tomorrow buy some decent leisure wear. I spend a fortune on going out clothes, shoes and work clothes but I never buy anything to lounge around in … very stupid in this kind of situation. I pull my hair messily into a low knot bun and walk tentatively back into the lounge area.

Joshua’s eyes snap straight to me and his eyes scan hungrily down my body. He cracks his neck gently as if trying not to. I smile on the inside. Bingo.

“What are we watching?” I ask as I sink onto the lounge.

He shrugs. “Not sure actually,” he says softly.

I pick up my tea and take a sip as my eyes linger on the beautiful man sprawled out on my lounge. He’s wearing light blue super-faded fitted jeans and a navy blue v-neck t-shirt. His muscular forearms, that are raised above his head, are screaming at me at a deafening pitch and those bloody triceps … the mind boggles.

His eyes lock on mine. “Where do you want me to sleep?”

I swallow nervously and I shrug. “Where do you want to sleep?” I ask quietly.

Tags: T.L. Swan Erotic
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