Page 13 of Gideon
“Did you fucking rape your wife?!” he hollered. I could hear Delilah in the background.
“No, I didn’t fucking rape her. We had sex. Angry sex. She got under my skin and… I don’t know,” I rambled.
“But she didn’t consent to having sex with you?” he repeated, all humor gone from his voice.
“No, she consented. But I used a dominant tone with her. I held her hands down. I got forceful,” I tried to explain.
“Okay, hang on. Explain it to me like I’m five, bro. What happened?”
“We had hot, angry sex. She’s a brat, and I’m a bit of a brat tamer, and it just happened,” I tried again.
“But she consented? What did she not consent to, and how?”
“I didn’t talk to her about kink beforehand. It was playful and hot and I don’t know. Did I fuck up?” I questioned.
“Did she consent to having sex with you?” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“Did she enjoy it?” he continued.
“Yes. We both did. I just should have talked to her more about it first,” I explained.
“Okay. I think I understand. I don’t think you fucked up, but weren’t you going to talk to her last night? Weren’t you going to lay it all out there?”
“Yeah, that was the plan, but she’s.. I don’t know. Difficult. It just didn’t happen that way.” I let out a huge breath of frustration, running a hand through my hair and tugging on it.
“Well, then I think you need to rectify that fucking situation, dude. Sit her down and talk to her. It’s not that difficult,” he chuckled. “Christ, man! You had me scared shitless there for a second.”
“Oh, so it was that easy for you? You just sat Delilah down and told her how it was, right?” I scoffed.
“Ha! Yeah right!” Delilah’s voice rang out loud and clear.
“Do you have me on speakerphone?!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah, man. I thought you raped your fucking wife! That required additional voices of reason to weigh in on the damn convo!” he shot right back.
“Fine, whatever. It’s not that easy. Especially not with Naomi,” I sighed heavily.
“I’ll bet not,” Delilah scoffed.
“What do you know about it?” I shot back defensively. “She’s a pain in the ass, but when she gets all fired up…” I trailed off.
“You get all hot and bothered and start thinking with your dick,” Delilah chuckled.
“Seriously, Delilah?” I snarked. Ollie’s laughter was damn near riotous in the background.
“That shit is funny. Figure it out. It sounds like you are both hot heads and you’re going to have to figure out how to communicate. It’s not easy. Hell, it wasn’t easy for any of us, but you’ve got to figure it out. Best of luck, baby brother,” he chortled.
“That’s it? That’s the sage wisdom you’re going to bestow on your baby brother?” I whined.
“Yup. Toodle-loo.” With that, he hung up, leaving me just as confused and frustrated as I had been when I dialed his number.
I pocketed my phone and decided to head below deck to find the one thing that was sure to take my mind off of all of this. Rope. I opened up the hatch that held all of my rope, rifling through the different hanks of hemp, silk, nylon, and cotton. I had far more rope than I could ever use, but I couldn’t help it. All the beautiful colors and materials called to me. Each had its purpose, and I had made some beautiful work with all of it.
Even as I ran my hands over the multitude of color options, I found my way to my favorite hanks. The simple tan hemp. No dye, just natural fibers that worked well in my hands. The material was soft, but provided a better bite than the cotton, silk, or nylon options. It was perfect for almost every project, whether that be floor work, shibari, or suspension.
I unwound the coiled length, letting the fibers run over my hands, through my fingers, as I familiarized myself with the sensation for probably the millionth time. Just the feel of it set my heart to a slower rhythm, letting the rigger side of my brain take over for a little while. I worked on a few knots, tying the material around the post and finding a rhythm.
