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“He fucking deserved it and I’m not sorry.” I sighed again. He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “He put a hit on you and no one fucking touches you but me.” Oh. Okay, wow.
“What do we do about Taka?” “I don’t know any hitmen.” He rolled his eyes. “Not funny.”
“I envied you. You were out and proud and didn’t give one fuck what people thought. That took more courage than I’ll ever have. God, I wanted to be you.” “Well, I dunno about out and proud. I got caught checking guys out and I got teased and called names.” He made a face. “So I punched the shit out of them and broke a few noses and said they could tell everyone they got beat up by a gay guy.”
You want to know what this means for our agreement. That if I can sit here and be all sweet with you, then that means I can’t throw you down and fuck you hard. But, rest assured Valentine, I can do both.” My pulse kicked up a notch and I smiled despite myself. “Am I that easy for you to read?”
“You need rough sex. That’s how you like it, and I gotta be honest with ya, I like giving it to you. It’s hot as hell, and fucking you bareback and coming inside you is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.” He let out a breath and shook his head. “Not gonna lie, I think it’s a primal, knuckle-dragging thing, and damn, my dick’s been hard pretty much non-stop since we started this thing.” Oh, okay then. He was just going to say this stuff out loud.
Yeah, because like I said, if I’m going to fuck you like you want me to, I need to know you’re up for it. That this isn’t some downward spiral of self-destruction and you don’t care what happens to your body. I happen to like using your body as a fuck-toy, and I need it in good working order. Christ.” He let his head fall back with a frustrated sigh. And I found myself smiling. “A fuck-toy? In good working order.”
“Yeah, your dad’s a weirdo,” I said again. Enzo meowed. “Well, he’s not too bad. Underneath that cold exterior, he has an inner whore with a kink for some weird shit. But he’s not really the bad guy he pretends to be. We know this, don’t we?” Enzo meowed again. First time in my life I’d ever had a full conversation with a cat.
“Why am I the reason?” “Well, first, the only reason I went was to annoy you.” “A good a reason as any.” He was smiling, I could tell. “Then I started going to see if you could actually sit down.” He barked out a laugh. “What?” “Yeah. After what I did to your arse.” He snorted. “I told you, I like the reminder.” I realised I was smiling and told myself to stop. “How’s your reminder feeling today?” He hummed a little. “It’s . . . enjoyable.” “That’s fucked up.” “I like what I like.” “And I like that you like it.”
I wasn’t expecting such an honest response.” He snorted. “Would you prefer I lie to you?” “No. I don’t want you to ever lie to me.”
“Well, that shirt’s not yours.” “Uh, no.” I grimaced. “But I . . . I might have popped the buttons on it, so instead of paying a tailor, I said I’d do it.” She pursed her lips and gave me her best mum look. “Were you fighting again?” Fighting, fucking . . . “Something like that,” I mumbled.
How are we exchanging the child tomorrow night? But he didn’t reply with a text. My phone rang in my hand. “Exchanging the child? Is this a ransom demand?”
“I’m going to make you breakfast,” I said. He groaned again. “Coffee.” “Breakfast.” “Breakfast coffee.”
“Is this the first time you touched me first?” He was quiet for a moment. “I told you not to get smug.” Then he snorted. “And I seem to recall a bathroom stall incident that I initiated.” I laughed. “Oh, yes. When you shoved me into a cubicle so you could give me a blowjob.” “I shoved you into the stall so you wouldn’t start a fight.” “And so you could suck my dick.”
“When you fuck me, it makes everything stop. Nothing else exists. My mind goes quiet and nothing else matters.” Oh, okay. Not what I was expecting, but— He licked the corner of his mouth and nodded. “I like the pain of it because it centres my attention, and I like it when you’re rough and when you use me for your pleasure. I’m sure there’s probably a shrink’s list on why that’s fucked up, but all I know is that I like it. All my life people have given in to me or yielded to me because of who I am, because of who my father is. Yes, Valentine. Anything you want, Valentine.” He rolled his eyes.
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“Happy birthday, Valentine.” “Thank you,” he murmured. I put the cake on the counter. “You have to cut it and eat the first slice. That’s another birthday rule.” “But it’s eight o’clock in the morning.” “It’s your birthday.” I pulled a knife from the drawer and handed it to him. “But I wished that you’d bend me over the sofa and nail me. That’s what I wished for and it hasn’t happened yet.” I laughed. “Oh believe me, I’m gonna do that too. But first you gotta cut the cake.”
Marshall left around lunch time. I wasn’t sure on the exact time because he’d left me in a crumpled mess on my bed, and I’d been so thoroughly had, I’d fallen back asleep. Well, he’d slapped my arse on his way out and told me to have a happy birthday. Believe me, after what he’d spent hours doing to me, I was. My best birthday to date.
“You look happy.” I almost laughed. “Do I?” “Mmm,” she said. “Any particular reason?” I snorted. “On grounds that I may incriminate myself, the defence rests.”
“I can’t tell you any more than what I’ve said already.” She chewed on the inside of her lip. “Would Dad disapprove?” “Vehemently.” She laughed. “Then good. Even better.”
“My longest stint was barely a month. How long have you and not-Martin been not-dating?” I snorted and tried to think . . . “Uh, two months, maybe.” “Jesus, Valentine. That’s practically married in gayville.”
“So you have feelings,” she said. “And you and I both know feelings are like . . .” She made a disgusted face. “The worst thing ever?” “Exactly. But who knows . . . they can’t be all that bad. Other people seem to enjoy feeling . . . emotions.”
“She also said I was smiling when she picked me up at lunchtime. I had to tell her something. I could hardly say it was because you’d just reamed and creamed me.” “Oh my god!” He barked out a laugh. “Ream and cream. I’ll have to remember that.” “Believe me, I won’t let you forget it.”
“A little birdie told me it was someone’s birthday yesterday,” she said. I didn’t need to ask who the little birdie was. Because he stood there at the back of the room with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Arsehole. It was horrifying when people sang happy birthday to me. Horrifying. But it was also kind of nice.
He took out his phone and thumbed out a message, my phone beeping a second later. Then he held up his phone. “Oh, and I changed your name to the peach emoji.” I glared at him. “Nice.” He grinned at me. “You should be grateful. I wanted to make it the washing machine emoji, but there isn’t one.” “A washing machine?” “Yeah. I put loads in it.”
I had to make myself not smile, trying to seethe at him instead. “I hate you.” He stood up, and with both hands on my desk, he leaned forward, smiling. “I hate you more.”
He handed me the bottle of wine and shrugged. “I, uh . . . it felt rude to turn up without bringing something.” “You should have brought Enzo. He likes it here.”
“And I replaced the washers in the laundry fittings. Took me five minutes. That was the month I moved in. He calls me the nice boy.” Valentine smirked. “So he doesn’t know you at all.” “Shut up. I am the nice boy.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, handing him the largest knife. “First thing we have to do is slice the eggplant and sprinkle it with salt.” “Like an exorcism?” I snorted. “Yep. Just like an exorcism.”
I gripped the eggplant and, with my arms around him, held his hand with the knife, showing him how to slice it so he didn’t massacre it like he’d done the tomato the other day. “This is unnecessary,” he whispered. I kissed the back of his neck. “I disagree. Foreplay starts now.”
“What the hell was he drinking?” I asked. “Tequila,” Lleyton answered. “He just had a few too many, then he couldn’t stand up.” “It’s because he doesn’t eat,” I replied as the doors opened.
I opened his front door. I knew which door was his. I knew where the light switch was. I knew the way to his bedroom. There was no denying shit now.
“Death would be merciful at this point,” I mumbled. He laughed. “You know what you need?” “A sniper.” He laughed again. “You need a burger and fries and full-sugar Coke.” I groaned. “Oh no, I really don’t.” “It will fix you.” “It will kill me.” “Well, fix or kill, either way you win. Let’s go.”
“Stop being pitiful.” I whined. “Please be nice to me.” “I have no sympathy for self-inflicted wounds.” “But I’m suffering.” “Tequila will do that to you.”
I managed a small bite and washed it down with a sip of Coke. “Oh, come on,” he said. “You can open your mouth wider than that. I know you can. I’ve seen it firsthand.” I glared at him, opened my mouth like a python, and took a huge bite.
I huffed. “I liked you better when you didn’t interfere.” He laughed at that. “So you do like me?” “No. I hate you.” He grinned as if he’d won a prize. “I hate you more.”
“What time did he leave this morning? Did he cook you breakfast?” Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck. “Oh my god,” Lleyton said. “He’s still there, isn’t he?” Then he roared, laughing. “Tell him I said hi.” “No.” He laughed some more. “My case in point. And for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. So are the rumours true about his horse-dick?” “I’m hanging up now.”
“You’re cute when you’re hungover and sulking. But if you keep pouting like that, I’ll find a better use for that mouth.” A jolt of warmth rushed through me. “Don’t tease me.” I looked down at his dick. “Though to be very honest with you, I don’t know how much I’d trust my gag reflex today, so you might need to shut me up another way.”
The way he was kissing me, I thought Lleyton might have been right. And it struck me how I wasn’t horrified or even scared. Instead, it made my heart race and my belly warm. It made my skin prickle all over, in a good way. In a way that felt alive. It struck me how happy it made me. But then Marshall shoved me onto the bed, folded me in half and fucked me good and hard. Like he loathed me. Like he couldn’t get enough of me. Like he loved me.
I took a twenty out of my wallet and held it up for the barman. “Get Taka whatever he wants,” I said. “And some superglue so he’ll shut the fuck up.” I clapped Taka on the back.
“We’re rostered to play against each other in two weeks.” “Do you need to mentally prepare yourself for losing? Is two weeks long enough?”
“Still don’t like you,” he mumbled as he snuggled in closer. “Still don’t like you either.”
You know why I cancelled on you tonight? Because what I wanted so fucking bad was for you to hurt me. Like really hurt me, Marshall. And I knew it’d be fucked up. I didn’t want you to have to go through that.”
I’ve been on my own forever, and that’s how I like it. I know how to function. I know how to survive, how to be on my own.” I put my hand to his cheek. “You don’t have to be on your own anymore.” He pulled his face back. “I don’t need you.” “Well, too bad. You’ve got me.” “I don’t want you.” “I said too fucking bad.”
“I know. I know how you like it. You like me to walk in, bend you over and put a load in you, and walk out. I know you like that. And I’m still on board with that because it’s hot as fuck. But sometimes I’ll slow-fuck you and put a load in you. And other times I’ll make love to you for hours and—” He shrugged. “—put a load in you.”
“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.” “Uh, you shoved me into a toilet cubicle and sucked my dick.”
Marshall, you have to promise me you won’t leave me. Even if I push you away. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you, and if you throw that back at me, I’m not sure how I’d survive that.” “You won’t push me away, because you’re going to talk to me, remember?” I nodded. “I won’t always get it right.” “I don’t expect you to. I won’t get things right all the time either. But we’ll try. And we’ll talk like adults.” Then he shrugged. “And fuck like animals.”
“I don’t hate you, Valentine.” I nodded into his neck. “I don’t hate you either.”
Her eyes drew down to his shirt. The white button-down shirt with the buttons with red thread. She looked at me, realising that we’d sewn those damn buttons on weeks ago. And I’d never said anything.
“I love you too.” Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I was smiling like an idiot and kissed him. “Was it because I came inside you? It was, wasn’t it?” He burst out laughing. “Pretty sure it was, yeah.” “I knew it.”
“Maybe we could forgo the cooking tonight and just skip right ahead to the wine and fucking.” Laughing, I turned him around to face the fish, my hands on his hips, my chin on his shoulder. I let out a long breath and kissed the top of his shoulder. “Nice try. Food first. Then wine and fucking.”
“Good game,” Valentine said. I turned then, smiling, because I was a total goner. “Thanks.” “I was talking to Taka,” he said casually. “Though the way you fumbled the ball was outstanding.”
