Page 17 of Surrender
Her jaw drops with indignation. “Do you want me to make you freaking kneel?”
I smile at the faint sign of bemusement in her expression. It’s so sexy. I don’t know why I’m proud of her when she’s like this, but I bloody well am. The strength in the depths of her eyes is mesmerising.
“Promises, promises,” I murmur, chuckling softly.
The corner of her mouth quirks up, then she frowns, clearly frustrated that she’s enjoying herself. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Doing what?” I ask, reaching out and clasping her elbow in my hand. My fingers brush the soft skin in the crook of her arm, and her eyes dart down to watch the movement. “I miss you, Sloan. We used to be friends.”
Her eyes are practically hooded when she licks her lips and replies, “We were never friends.”
I smirk. “We were friendly.”
She smirks back. “Too friendly I seem to recall.”
I lose the humour on my face and pin her with a sincere look. I do miss her. I miss her face and the effect she has on me. She makes me feel lighter, even if she’s twitching nervously. “Well, I don’t have many friends, but I counted you as one.”
My words have her composure dropping. In a bold move, I reach out and tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her lids flutter closed, those impossibly long lashes fanning her cheeks perfectly as I lean in and murmur into her ear, “It’s good to see you again, Treacle.”
Her eyes snap open. “That! That is why I’ve been avoiding you.”
“Because of a silly nickname?”
“It’s not silly.” She looks offended.
“Then what is it?”
Her eyes go starry for a second as she glances down at my lips. “It’s…nice. It’s nice, and I’m divorced, and I have baggage, and I’m sooo not ready to jump into a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” I ask, completely serious. I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend. There were a few women I saw on a regular basis, but no true relationships. No one I’d ever considered bringing home to meet my family. Perish that bloody thought. They’d eat a girl alive.
Sloan’s face turns red, and she covers her cheeks with her hands. “I just assumed. God, this is mortifying. See! I’m so horribly out of practice, I just thought—”
“You think too much, Tre,” I state, cutting her off before she tumbles into a tangent. She’s so flustered and unsure of herself, I want to kneel down and beg her to take control again. I want her to find that power she had with me last year and embrace her inner goddess. The image has my dick stirring in my shorts. But above all, I don’t want her to avoid me anymore.
“I really need to be going, Gareth.”
Her face looks resigned, so I step back with a lightness to my expression that is a rarity when I’m around anyone else. “Very well. But we really should do this again sometime.”
“What?” She barks out a laugh, moving past me and wafting her glorious scent all over me. “I don’t even know what we’re doing! We’re meeting in a locker room. Is that what you’re talking about?”
My eyebrows waggle. “It’s a fantasy for some.”
She punishes my cheekiness by whacking the back of her hand on my chest. Hard. “I’m going back to work before I humiliate myself even further. I’ll see you around, Mr. Harris.”
I smile and rub the aching spot she left behind.That’s the Treacle I remember.
“MUMMY,IWANT TO PLAYfootball,” Sophia sings, her head peeking out from the top of her purple and teal quilt.
“It’sMommy, sweetie. Call me Maaahhhmmmy,” I correct, knowing I’m a jerk but hating that she gets more British every day.
“Maaahmmmy, can I play football?” Sophia’s brown gaze looks up at me with wide-eyed innocence.
Sighing heavily, I reply, “Do you mean soccer?”
“It’s the one where they kick the ball around on the grass and they wear really cool socks.”
I groan slightly. “Soph, that’s a boy’s sport.”
