Page 79 of Surrender
“Processing what? The fact that I fucked you and not the other way around for once?”
“Exactly!” I respond, my voice rising in pitch as I lean into him, desperate to drive my point across. “That wasn’t part of our arrangement. I need boundaries for this to work, Gareth.”
“Why?” he bites back, his eyes dropping to my lips.
I fumble with my thoughts for a moment, terrified he might kiss me. I gave him that gift, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it if he takes it now. I shake my head and muster up all my strength. “I don’t want to turn back into the person I once was, Gareth. The reason this arrangement was working is because we had clear expectations of each other. If we’re going to keep doing this, that cannot happen again.”
“I don’t want you to change, Sloan!” he exclaims, his gaze raking slowly over my body. His hazel eyes turn to fire as he blatantly undresses me in his mind. His voice is softer when he adds, “I was just doing my due diligence. You seemed to be getting awfully worked up in your sleep, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable down there.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes sends a traitorous jolt of need right between my legs and my knees wobble. I inhale a big gulp of air, feeling my cheeks heat so much I have to look away from him when I reply, “I need to know that nothing’s changed, Gareth.”
“Nothing’s changed,” he states and moves in closer to me, backing me up against the cool bricks. “You’re still in charge, and I still want to lose myself when I’m with you. But I need you to not run every time you get scared.”
He cages me, his heat enveloping all around me. It would be so easy to turn into a puddle of goo right in front of him. He has a strong presence that I could lose myself in completely. But if I want to continue this arrangement, I need to hold my feelings and personal life at bay and correct him. The way he’s approaching me right now is like a dog with no discipline.
I’m not going to let him alpha me anymore.
Narrowing my eyes, I shove both hands against his hard chest and push him backwards against the other building. Shock registers on his face first, then excitement. Fiery, passionate, lusty excitement.
My voice is firm when I reply, “I’m not scared. And fine, no more ghosting. Just remember who’s in charge and we’ll be able to continue this.” I stare down at his lips and lean in. “Now go home before I decide you need something more painful than hot wax or my hand next time I see you.”
His nostrils flare with a possessive thrill. “When will I see you again?”
Sophia instantly comes to mind. “I get back next Monday.”
His brow furrows. “You sure travel a lot.”
“Gareth!” I scold, stifling my anxiety over how I’m going to keep this up much longer if he’s already pushing back like this. “This isn’t a relationship. This is an arrangement you are breaking right now. If you want this to continue, why are you questioning me?”
He lifts his hands up in surrender. “All right, Monday.”
“Monday.”
Without another word, I turn sharply on my heel. My hair flicks in his face before I stride away with my back straight and shoulders high. The weight of his heated stare on me is enough to make my steps falter.
My greatest challenge isn’t controlling Gareth.
It’s controlling myself.
STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OFthe pitch at The Cliff, I am pummelled by a memory of when I was about six years old and Mum had brought me out here to watch Dad practice. We were allowed on the pitch, and I remember picking several blades of grass and putting them in my pocket with big dreams of becoming a footy player just like my dad. He looked so massive out here with all the other players. I remember thinking how cool it was that they got to play football every day for their job.
And Mum looked so happy watching Dad play. Her eyes were so big and excited, like she was watching her own personal superhero save the world. I remember thinking I couldn’t wait for her to see me play someday so she would look at me the same way.
My memory fades as soon as I see my three brothers striding toward me. Tanner and Camden are mirror images of each other with their blonde hair and large frames. They aren’t identical twins, but they were difficult to tell apart until Tanner grew out his hair and beard. Booker looks a lot more like me. The two of us take after our dad’s darker features while the twins and Vi look more like our mum’s Swedish heritage.
The three of them are kitted out in warm, footy active wear. I smile and wave them over to where I’m standing with several bags of kid-sized footballs. This is a big day for Kid Kickers. I’ve been wanting to extend this program outside of Manchester for some time now, and we open our facility to potential sponsors today. They can check out the facility, see how camps are run, and decide what level of contributor they want to be. Helping with this has been a welcome distraction from Sloan.
Since I couldn’t handle today alone, I asked my brothers to join me in running a session. My agent thought it would be a good promo for the World Cup, which I could care less about. The Cup isn’t about promos. It’s about skill. Regardless, I knew having them here would help bring in the sponsors, and they were all too willing to jump on a train.
Tanner jogs ahead of the pack. I brace myself as he jumps up into my arms, wrapping his long legs around my waist in a ridiculous embrace.
“My broseph!” he bellows in a pitch similar to that of a whining dog.
I shove him off of me and grumble, “You are such a wanker.”
Camden smiles happily and claps me on the back in a big hug. Booker comes in next, giving me that small baby brother smile of his even though the prat is taller than me.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” I state with a big exhale, trying to expel my nerves.
