Page 60 of Gideon
“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, tossing the tee-shirt towards the laundry bin and missing entirely before settling back onto the pillow beside me.
“You’re a bit of a brat even when kink isn’t involved. You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” I teased him, pulling the covers up over my body to ward off the slight chill in the room. Perhaps it was just that my skin was overheated from our play. “Then again, I’ve never been sad about the other things that mouth can do,” I admitted with a slight blush.
“What can I say? A sharp tongue is good for more than just quick wit and sassy banter.” He stretched languidly, then shucked off the covers and stood.
“How can you be so comfortable being naked?” I asked him, laughing at his pleased expression as he made his way to the dresser in search of clothing.
“How can you not be?” he quipped back, tossing me a look over his shoulder as he pulled out a pair of jeans.
“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I giggled, curling into the pillow and watching him dress.
“I mean, I’m comfortable because I don’t give a shit. But you? If I looked like you, I’d be naked all the time,” he sighed dreamily. I erupted into giggles at his expression.
“Gideon, if you had my body, you’d likely spend every waking hour naked in front of a mirror touching yourself,” I teased right back. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes nearly glazing over as he thought about my words.
“That… is fucking hot,” he groaned. I threw my pillow at him.
“Oh, you’re going to get it now,” he warned with an evil grin, only a split second before he leaped up onto the bed and tackled me with tickles and kisses.
It was a long while before we left the bed, both of us breathless and unable to wipe our smiles off our faces.
“Let’s have a picnic,” he commented as I dressed myself for the day. The dress was one of my favorites. Simple cream fabric with a light blue floral pattern to it. It wasn’t much, but it was one of the prettier items I owned. I longed to be away from here, where I could wear whatever I pleased. The thought of wearing pants gave me far more hope for the future than I wanted to admit. Pants seemed like a silly thing to wish for, yet here I was, wishing for just that.
“A picnic?” I questioned, turning back to look at him.
“Yeah, a picnic lunch. Just the two of us,” he said with a grin.
“It’s only ever been just the two of us,” I chided, rolling my eyes at his boyish charm.
“You know what I mean. Let’s go have a picnic down on the dock,” he reiterated.
“When?” I asked, taking a look at myself in the mirror above the dresser, making sure my hair wasn’t in too much of a mess. He had a way of making my hair wild and untamed, much like our passion had been these last few days.
“Now,” he scoffed, like it was obvious as hell. I rolled my eyes.
“We haven’t even had breakfast,” I teased.
“So? It’s already almost noon. Perfect time for lunch,” he commented with a shrug, already heading for the door.
“Noon? We slept the whole morning away!” I exclaimed, looking at the clock in shock.
“Um, I’m sorry to break this to you, but what we were doing wasnotsleeping,” he teased, throwing me a wink before he made his way out of the door and down the stairs, whistling happily as he went. What a ridiculous man.
Yet, as I stood there a moment longer, looking at myself in the mirror, I found myself unable to wipe the grin off of my face. I was happy. I felt lighter than I had in… well, perhaps ever.
Telling Gideon my truth had been the single hardest thing I had ever done since those days in the cabin. It had been brutal, every word feeling like it was ripping my soul to shreds all over again. Yet afterwards, I found myself feeling lighter and more calm than I could possibly remember. Perhaps there was some truth to the words he had spoken last night in the darkness. Perhaps with him there could be freedom.
It gave me hope. A tenuous and fragile hope, yes, but still, hope. And I clung to it like a drowning woman clinging to driftwood.
I made a silent promise to myself to try harder, to be more open with him in the days to come. I had shared my brutal truth, and he had done the unexpected. He had stayed. He had listened, and he had not judged me one iota.
I made my way downstairs just in time to see him loading up items from the fridge into a real-life picnic basket.
“You don’t have half the things a normal household needs, but you own a picnic basket?” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched him pack up our food.
“You tease, and yet, looks like it was a good purchase on my part,” he tossed right back, looking mighty proud of himself.
“Fair enough, fair enough. But why did you buy it in the first place?” I questioned, peeking over into the basket to see sandwiches and fruit and —
