Touch the Nerve || Chapter 14. Wrennie Wants to Try

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You are sitting facing him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his shirt half open. He is supporting your back, his palms slightly rubbing your shoulder blades. You feel that telling him that you shagged his uncle while in this position would be bloody inadequate. You try to climb off his lap, but he wraps his arms around your middle and looks into your eyes.

“I gather you do not object the idea of a bit of legging over with me, so what seems to be the problem?” He gently moves your hair off your face, and you nuzzle his palm.

“I am worried about our history.”

“Hm,” he hums unassumingly.

“Not our history together, but the one each one of us has.”

“Is it about Killian?”

“What? No! Why would it be about Killian?”

“You dated my brother, that would freak any bloke out.”

“Does it freak you out?”

“No, but only because I know that nothing happened. And you both hated it.”

“See, that is what freaks me out. You are so homey with each other, the whole sharing thing…”

“I do not share my stuff with Killian!”

“I mean information. Does he tell you everything?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. Bloody hell, he really doesn’t see that it’s barmy.

“Do you tell him everything?”

“I pass knowledge and wisdom.”

“Ew, no, don’t continue.” You lean back and look at his face. “What did he tell you about us?”

“That you both weren’t into it, and you are great at snogging, but you didn’t end up deflorating him.”

“What?! He is a virgin?”

“That’s a complicated matter.”

“Ew again. Not important right now, but really?” He smirks and kisses your jaw.

“You were saying…”

You sigh. “I am not worried about your history either, don’t get me wrong.” You touch his skin in the collar of the shirt and stroke the thick chest hair there. It is surprisingly dark and harsh. “I do not particularly enjoy to be number two hundred something in this bed, but I don’t judge…” He bumps your jaw with his nose, and you look into his eyes.

“Wren, I mean, if I could, I would probably…” He stumbles over his words, as if surprised to be saying it himself. “I would take it all back, if I could start from…” You silence him with a kiss.

You suddenly feel like crying. The Phil you know doesn’t regret his record, the Phil you know is proud of it. He brags and reminisce. The bloke under your hands is remorseful, vulnerable, he will be heartbroken, when you tell him… You shush your thoughts and concentrate on the kiss. God, he is so bloody good!

After a few moments of steamy getting off, couple more of his buttons are open and your jeans are unzipped. He pushes you away and pants out, “You should really hurry up with your unpleasant conversation, love.”

You realize you are still wearing your glasses and take them off. They are too foggy anyways. You blink a few times and look into his eyes. He chuckles.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and then kisses you again. This time it is gentle, chaste, and you lean in, his hands gently stroking your back.

“I want to try…” you are whispering into his lips.

“What?” he’s whispering too for no reason. He presses his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes.

“This… Us…”

“That is very good news, Wren…” He catches your mouth again.

“But…” You slightly push him away. “We have to agree that whatever happened before happened before. We are starting from a scratch now, right?”

“Yep.” He pops the last sound.

“Phil, that night at the swamp…” He was lowering his lips to your neck, and he halts.

“Wren, I really don’t need to know.”

“No, you do!” Your cheeks are burning. “It was your uncle.”

He’s frozen under your hands. And then he moves you off his lap, and you plop on the bed ungracefully.

“The fuck?! Uncle John?!”

“Yes.” What else can you say? He jumps up on his feet and stands in front of you.

“You are kidding me! No, just fucking no. He doesn’t sleep with women.”

“What?!”

“There was this drama many years ago… I mean he doesn’t sleep with normal women, just some expensive escort service. Like he has a doxy or something…” Oh yeah, that…

“Nonetheless…”

“You slept with Uncle John?! What the fuck, Wren?”

He’s staring at you and then he sits back on the bed near you. It’s not an attempt to be closer, it’s easier to glare at you like an inquisitor this way.

“How long?”

“What?”

“For how long have you been sleeping with him?”

“It was a one-off thing that night. We didn’t even… I mean… Not much…” Your cheeks are blushing painfully, and you are mumbling.

“Phil, we just agreed that past is past, I only told you this since he is family…”

“Fuck it, Wren, obviously he is family! How do you imagine Christmas dinners now?”

“To be honest, Christmas dinners were the last thing I thought about.” He shakes his head.

“That was very low of you, Wren.” What the actual fuck?!

“It has nothing to do with you! It’s just my past. It happened, and it’s done.”

“Is it now? How did you feel when he was giving you the Yamataki money? Did that feel like he is in the past?” His eyes are angry and pained.

“It was endlessly uncomfortable, but I mean we are civilized people.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

He gets up and starts pacing around the room. “To be honest, sweetheart, that totally squashed any drive I had in me.”

“You slept with Thea, I got over it.” That is actually a very good argument. Point Wren. You get up and hug him from behind. He doesn’t fight it.

“That is part of the whole thing, Phil. There will be always past, and there will be someone you will be worried about.” You are unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Since he’s not stopping you, you rub your cheek to his back and splay your hands on his stomach. “Like I will sometimes think that at least half of those two hundred women you shagged were better than me…”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous…”

“Why not? It’s true. More experienced, more flexible, better boobs…” He turns in your arms and cups your face.

“That’s bullshit…”

“Is it?” you give him a look from under the lashes.

“I love your boobs! Well, whatever I managed to catch glimpse of the other night…” You press your palms into his short beard and rub his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Then let’s just forget all this shite, and go for it.”

He smiles. “Go for it?”

“Yeah…” You smile in return, stand on your tippy toes and kiss him. He treads his fingers in your hair and sighs into your mouth.

“Alright, Wren, let’s try…”

Katya Kolmakov
Katya Kolmakov. Mother. Writer. Artist. Fanfiction and Wattpad. First novel on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XJ16W7W.

2 Comments

    1. I think a certain blonde heir would have serious issues with being a beta 🙂 He was brought up to be a ‘king’ but forever remains in the shadows of the King. So yeah, I’d say his reaction shouldn’t be surprising.

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