Conviction(67)

“Get in bed, I’m gonna take a shower,” he orders.

“Bossy much?” I mumble but climb into his bed anyway.

“You’ve seen nothing yet, baby.” He winks, then heads into the bathroom.

‘Winkgasm’ being the last thought I remember running through my brain.





Conner



I turn the body jets in my shower to full blast and enjoy the sting as the water makes contact with my skin. I roll my neck and shoulders a few times, trying to release some of the anger I’ve been holding in.

I’m angry at Pearce Matthews. He’s a lying, deceitful little shit and I’m going to do what I can to bring that f*cker down. Actually, it’s more than anger that I feel toward him right now. He’s caused something dark to bubble inside of me and I don’t like it.

I’m angry with Marcus Newman. Marcus f*cking Newman. The bloke’s a wanker. A stuck up prick and she went and married the f*cker. I can’t even bring myself to think about him putting his hands on her, but worse than the thought of him f*cking her, is the thought of him hurting her. He hurt her. How? Why would anyone want to hurt her? Especially her f*cking husband. I can’t even go there right now. I need to lock that one away and deal with it once I’ve got my head around what her brother did to her… to us.

I’m also angry with Meebs. I know she’s been used as a means to an end, but why the f*ck did she let that happen? She’s not stupid, far from it. So why the f*ck did she let her brother manipulate her the way that he did? She has no problem standing up to me, so why the f*ck didn’t she stand up to that little dickhead?

I grip my hair and try and keep the rage buried deep down inside me. Turning the hot water up, I stand and endure the sting and burn as it hits my body. My usual routine when I feel like this would be to go to my place in the Kings Road and call up a few people for a night of sex. Horrible, nasty, humiliating sex. I’d watch and shout orders. I’d get off on others doing things that they ordinarily would never do. Wouldn’t even consider, but because I’m involved, because I just have this way to somehow convince people that they do want to watch that woman suck their boyfriend’s dick, while they f*ck him up the arse with a strap-on, they do it. There might be a slight hesitation, but they always end up doing what I order, and you know what? They always end up enjoying it. The trick is, knowing just how far to push people.

I place my palm flat against the tiles as I fist my cock in my other hand. I need to come. It’s the only way I can calm myself the f*ck down.

I have Meebs waiting for me in my bed. My beautiful Meebs. What would she think if she knew the truth about the things that I’ve done, that I’ve made others do?

“Fuck!” I stop what I’m doing, lean my back against the tiles and slide down the wall.

What the f*ck am I doing? Why did I make her stay here with me? I’m the last thing she needs in her life right now. I’m a f*cked up mess, but I want her so f*cking much. She fits. When I wrap my arms around her, when her little body is pulled against mine, she fits and all is right with my world.

I rub my hands over my face and stand back up and wash myself. I’ve no idea where I’m going with this. I don’t know if I have it in me to have a normal relationship. I want it. I want it so f*cking much, and I want it with her, but I don’t know if I’m capable. I’ve spent so long running from relationships and intimacy, I don’t know if I would even know how to be with someone.

I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around my waist and clean my teeth. My toothbrush is lying on the side of the sink and not in the holder where I usually keep it and the thought that Meebs has had it in her mouth makes my dick twitch. I grab another towel and walk into my bedroom rubbing my hair dry with it and stop dead in my tracks.

She’s lying in the foetal position, in the middle of my bed. She has on my T-shirt and it’s pulled over her knees, just her feet sticking out of the bottom. She’s tiny, so f*cking small and beautiful and perfect. This girl, this woman, has consumed my thoughts for most of my life. I’ve dreamt about her. I’ve written songs about her, and now here she is, in my home and in my bed. I consider myself to have a pretty vivid imagination, but f*ck me, the reality of her being here far outweighs anything my brain could’ve come up with.

Her hands are curled into fists and tucked under her chin. Her damp blonde hair is splayed out over the duvet cover. I move in closer, sitting on the edge of the bed so I can get a better view. Her fair lashes fan out across her cheeks, which are covered with a light dusting of freckles that also cover her nose. Her pale pink lips are in a perfect pout as she sleeps. Watching her like this, brings order to my thoughts. The anger and aggression I was feeling earlier has gone. Looking at her flawless skin and natural beauty calms my raging mind and I don’t doubt for a moment what the feeling is that has settled in my chest.

Love.

I love her.

I’ve never stopped loving her, and it scares the shit out of me.

I want this. I want her and I’m so scared that I’ll f*ck it all up again.

I go into my wardrobe and pull on a pair of boxers and then go and lay on the bed. I wrap my arm around Meebs and pull her back into my front. I breathe her in and the realisation that she smells of me almost makes my heart beat out of my throat. I loved her before, back when we were kids, but this is on another level. I’m not sure if it’s because I now know what it’s like not to have her in my life, but what I’m feeling now… f*ck… I don’t know. I’m a songwriter and I don’t have words right now to describe this. I pull her in tighter and kiss right below her ear.