“I missed you too. But, I have stuff to do…” she trails off, pushing hard against my chest. I groan and pull back, my hands falling to my sides. “Don’t pout at me, mister. We will have time later. But Christmas is just a week away and I’m nowhere near ready, plus I have dinner in the oven. Go put your feet up, or whatever.”
I lean in and give her a gentle kiss before heading to the den. I want nothing more than to be balls deep inside her. She’s never refused before and it’s put a dent in my ego. Fuck it. I’ll tease the shit out of her tonight. She’ll soon be begging for my cock.
Falling into my worn recliner, I grab the remote and flick the TV on. Flipping through the channels mindlessly, I come across a documentary on sharks. This will do.
I can hear Lauren humming along to her iPod and it brings a small smile to my lips. The girl can sing but she just doesn’t realise how good she really is, she never believes me when I tell her anyway.
Lauren
Dishing up the vegetables onto each of our plates, I think about the mega surprise present I have in the works for Champ. He’s going to love it, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t, then I will be completely fucked. Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I try and concentrate on the meal I’m dishing up. Herb covered chicken breast with five different lots of veg. Healthy and simple to cook. I found the recipe online when I was doing some internet shopping this morning and thought I’d give it a go. I’m not much of a cook, I fucking hate it, but for my man, I’d do absolutely anything.
“Dinner, Liam!” I call out as I place the hot plates on the breakfast bar in front of the stools. “Shit.”
“You all right?” Champ asks as he saunters in from the living room. His concerned face stares at me as he takes a tentative seat in front of the plate that’s piled high with food.
“Yeah, just burned my damn hand on the plates. I’ll be fine.” I give him a smile to convey that I am in fact absolutely fine. Running my hand under the tap to cool the burn, I hear the moan from behind me.
“Fuck, babe, this is fucking amazing,” Champ says around a mouthful of food. I smile to myself, mission accomplished.
“See, not every meal has to be steaks.” I wink at him as I take a seat. “What did you do today?” I ask him, taking my first bite of food. Damn, this is good.
“Club business.” I am so damn sick of those two words. It’s all he ever says to me, he never tells me anything. I know he can’t, but he doesn’t even tell me an inkling of what he’s been up to when at the club anymore. He’s lucky I trust him otherwise my mind would be doing cartwheels.
“Of course,” I mumble. We eat in silence, just the sound of the cutlery hitting the plate filling the room. I know something isn’t sitting right with Champ. He’s been standoffish for days, not telling me a damn thing. How can I help him if he won’t talk to me?
“Lauren, you know I can’t tell you about shit.” His blue eyes stare holes into my face, the stern expression making me swallow. I’m not scared of him, it’s just he can be too intense. I’ve only ever been scared of him once, and it wasn’t even anything bad. But that memory still resides in me.
“You can still tell me how your day has been, who you’ve seen, how everyone is. But you don’t even bother with that anymore. Do you want to be with me? Because lately all it’s been between us is sex.” I sound like petulant child, but I don’t give a shit. I’ve had enough of having a relationship just based on mind blowing sex.
Champ stares at me with a blank expression, stunned, I think, that I even had the balls to speak to him this way. But enough is enough.
“If you have nothing to say, then I’m going to bed.” I go to rise from my seat, taking my half empty plate to the dishwasher.
“I’m sorry, Lauren. I’m no good at this relationship stuff. I don’t know what to say and when. I’m learning as I go.” He frowns down at his empty plate. I can see he’s chewing on his bottom lip, contemplating what to say. “Please.”
I sigh and rub a hand over my smooth hair. “I don’t know what to do, Liam. You don’t talk to me anymore. At first? We were amazing, you would talk to me, banter with me. Now? You’re so closed off. I can’t even read you anymore.”
“Shit at the club is getting real, sweetheart. I’m distracted. It’s no excuse, I know. But I don’t want to be bring that shit home with me.” Champ finally looks at me, his eyes begging me to listen to his reasoning.
I concede a little, I understand not wanting to bring work home with you. “Okay. I’m still mad, but I understand. We just need to talk more.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Champ rises from his stool and walks to me, enveloping me in his strong arms and kissing the top of my head. My arms wrap around his waist tightly, not wanting to let him go.
“I’m going to head to bed, I’m beat.” I stand on my tip toes to give him a chaste kiss before walking back toward our bedroom.
Stripping myself of my clothes, I walk into the en-suite for a quick shower to wash away the days grime. Not ten minutes later and I’m dry and diving under the quilt in our king sized bed. Sighing contentedly, I slip into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 6