Page 27 of Surrender
“Because I can’tstopthinking about it.” His eyes are dead serious. They strike right through me, saying words I never could have imagined him saying. “I’m not a bullshitter, Sloan. I don’t play games. I don’t chase women. But if I go a year and still can’t stop thinking about a person, I’m bloody well going to do something about it.”
“Like force your friends into a consult,” I retort, wondering if poor Hobo and Brandi even wanted a consult with me.
“I didn’t force anybody,” he replies. “Hobo asked me for advice about Brandi, and I know you have connections in the industry. You seemed like the natural place to start.”
Silence casts over us, so I begin picking at the cuticle on my nail to avoid Gareth’s gaze. That furrowed browline of his is going to be the death of me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Are you saying you never think about that night we had together?” His voice is like warm honey dripping into my mouth.
My shoulders lift. “Of course I think about it,” I snap.
He exhales through his nose. “And are they positive thoughts?”
I look up and he’s concealing a smile that makes the creases around his eyes look divine. “No…Sometimes…Maybe.”
He shakes his head, clearly annoyed. “Well, I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life.”
I touch my lips to ensure the words didn’t come from my own mouth because he’s voicing my thoughts exactly. But it doesn’t change the fact that what we did was wrong. He is a client!
The humour in his expression dies when he asks the next question. “Look, have you been trying to ghost me? Are you trying to cut me out of your life so I leave you alone?”
“No,” I reply, anxiety pricking all five of my senses. “Gareth, I want to keep working with you.”
“You just don’t want to fuck me again.”
My nerves boil over. My eyes cast downward as I suck in a large breath of air. That word out of his mouth is like an instant zap inside my panties. The way his teeth grab hold of his lower lip to utter the sound of the letterFis spine-tingling. I know he said all sorts of naughty things that night we had together, but it’s been so long now, and I was in an alternate universe then. I’ve compartmentalised that night into a dream. A fantasy. This is reality, yet all I want to do is ask him to say that word over, and over, and over.
“Don’t say that word again, please,” I groan, running my hands through my hair and pressing my thighs together as I try to ignore the fact that his lower lip is slightly thicker than his upper lip.
“What word?” he asks, seemingly sincere.
“The…naughty word.”
Careful, Sloan, your mom jeans are showing.
“Naughty word?” This makes him chuckle.
How can he be laughing right now? My body is racked with tortured awareness of how close we are sitting beside each other. His knee has brushed against mine under the table three times in the past five minutes, and all I can think about is how badly I want it to happen again. I cover my face with my hands to avoid looking at him.
He leans in and whispers, “You mean the word fuck?” The soft click of theKcauses me to peek through the crack between my fingers. His eyes are intense on me as he adds, “Sloan, all I’ve been thinking about for months is how badly I want to fuck you again.” His lips dampen as he slides his tongue across them. “Fucking you was the highlight of my year, Treacle.”
“Gareth!” I groan his name in frustration, dropping my hands and jerking back from his honest words. “This is so insane…and inappropriate!” And wonderful, and sexy, and frustrating.
“Why?” he asks, looking incredulous. “Because you don’t like it? Or because you’re not over your ex?”
“I’m definitely not thinking about my ex,” I reply with an immature eye-roll and fight off the shuddering thought of still being tied to Cal.
“If it’s because I’m your client, I don’t give a toss. It’s clothes, Sloan. What we have is far more important than fashion.”
“It’s not about the clothes,” I defend.
He narrows his eyes. “Do you regret that night we shared?”
“No,” I answer reflexively, then want to cover my mouth with mortification.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know!” I reply quickly, knowing I can’t tell him the truth. That I avoided all his attempts at contact because I was in the throes of a custody battle for my daughter whom he doesn’t know exists.
