Chapter 13 — Close Quarters

Henry stiffened, very noticeably.

I'd have mistaken him for becoming a mannequin if his hard-on wasn't pressed so firmly against my butt.

And by hard-on… I meant hard.

I pushed further back, and he sucked in a deep breath, muttering a quiet,

‘sweet Jesus’

“Henry, is everything—”

“Don't.” He deadpanned, suddenly.

I froze.

“Don't move, Rosie.”

“Why?” I said, doing the opposite… as I rolled my hips more.

His fingers gripped my waist, holding me in place.

Fuck.

I felt moisture between my thighs.

Didn't he know this was turning me on more?

I glanced at him from over my shoulder, and his eyes met mine.

The intensity behind it had me parting my lips in surprise.

“Just…” he said, in a strained voice. “Don't move, Rosie.”

I would have done the opposite.

I really would.

But his eyes… Those eyes were trying to convey a message.

A message that reminded me that this man was teetering on the very edge of control and one reckless move from me—

“Please…” he bit out, jaw clenched tightly.

And he'd snap.

(What the hell are you doing? This is your moment, Rosie—while he's in his vulnerable state.)

I scoffed bitterly.

Of course I wanted him to break.

But not this way… not when it felt wrong.

Not with his eyes begging me not to make him have to carry such guilt…

I relented, stilling my movements.

“Get your hands off my waist, please.” I bit out, quietly.

He yanked his hand away, almost as though the realization burned him.

He swallowed forcefully, while I turned back to glare at the oven.

“Just stay still for a moment.” He said, then began pushing the objects back into the drawer.

I rolled my eyes. “Say that to your dick, will you.” I murmured.

It wouldn't stop twitching on my fucking ass.

“Did you say something, Rosie?”

“Talking about how uncomfortable this position is.” I replied.

He chuckled lightly, “you'll be out soon enough.”

More like I wanted to do the opposite.

He struggled with the drawer for a while… then closed it and pulled back with a loud exhale.

“All done.” He announced, pulling away from me.

My body instantly became cold and I found myself missing his warmth.

I pulled out the pie, handing it to Henry.

“Hmm…” he hummed. “Smells sweet.”

My gaze dropped down to his trousers, eyeing the subtle bulge, instead.

“Rosie?” He called.

I blinked, “huh?”

“Get the table set, please.”

“Oh… okay.” 

And so I went about setting the table—a few minutes later and we sat down to enjoy dinner.

As a wise man once said. Every successful person ends up winning—not because they never give up, but because they know when to and when to keep going.

“So… I was thinking,” I began, Henry looked up from his food, giving me his attention.

“Could we work on my maths tonight, cause I have a test coming up.”

“Uhh… I actually have some work I need to finish up tonight, Rosie.”

I pouted, feigning sadness.

“I was hoping you'd put me through on algebra, just for a few hours.”

“Seriously Rosie, I would but…” he trailed off, gaze dropping down as I moved closer, pressing my chest to the table to expose more of my cleavage. 

“Please…” I begged, biting my bottom lip while batting my lashes at him.

He cleared his throat, moving his gaze away to stare at anything that wasn't me.

“Fine…”

I smiled brightly. “Thank you, Henry.”

He muttered a quiet ‘welcome’

Then we carried on eating, I finished my food, then dived into the pie as I waited for Henry to finish his.

“Oh… fuck.” I moaned, closing my eyes as the sweetness of the pie invaded my senses. “This is so good, Henry…”

I opened my eyes, smirking as his fingers tightened around the spoon, only he wasn't staring at me but at the table.

“I never knew you were so good at pie making, Henry.”

His gaze drifted to mine, “yeah, cooking has always been a hobby of mine so…”

“I can't wait to make you my Daddy.” I giggled slightly.

He stabbed his steak, shoving it into his mouth with much more force than necessary.

“Let's… stick to Henry for now.”

“Alright…” 

……

An hour later, we were done eating.

I hummed softly as I made my way to Henry's room.

Stopping just outside his door, I knocked.

No reply.

I knocked once again.

Still no reply.

“Henry!” I called, no reply.

I opened my mouth to call again, but decided against it, I instead—twisted the doorknob and stepped in.

My ears caught the sound of running water first.

“Guess I could take my time and have a look around.” I murmured.

My eyes roved through every corner of his room with an impressive nod.

The car makes the man, they say.

What about the room… cause his room was oozing discipline, commitment and male elegance.

In hindsight though, that discipline was my greatest turn on, I mean what other feeling could give this deep sense of euphoria if it isn't the feeling of watching a man like Henry Gareth slowly break because of me.

The shower stopped, and the door opened.

Time to put on your act, Rosie.

Only I didn't get to—

Because I froze on the spot.

I mean you couldn't blame me right… 

Henry Gareth just stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and another, that he was currently using to clean his hair.

He hadn't noticed me yet, so I just stood at the far end clutching my book to my chest.

My heart slammed wildly in my chest as my gaze lowered to his impressive build.

My mouth watered and dried at the same time, thirsty for something that only this man could give.

His muscles flexed as he rubbed his hair softly, drawing my gaze to pert nipples.

Oh how I would love to run my tongue over them.

He hung the towel over his shoulder, then turned back heading to his closet, and my eyes trailed the length of his broad back.

“Good Lord.” I murmured.

Only then did he finally notice someone was in his room.

He turned around, eyes wide in shock.

“Rosie?”