Page 25 of Narrow Margins
“Fuck! Are you serious? We’ve both got hard-ons that could hammer in nails and you want to get up and go to work?” Griff is pissed off—and I mean properly pissed off—with me. He lets go of my dick and storms into the bathroom. This is not how I expected this morning to go.
“Griff! GRIFF! Don’t you dare storm off!” Shit! I reach over for my leg, this is why I avoid relationships. I’m the one left struggling whenever the other walks off! Strapping my leg on without bothering with the sock that protects the stump from chafing, I yank my shorts back up. Griff stands under the shower when I get in the bathroom, his eyes closed as the water pounds over him.
“Griff, I’m sorry.” He keeps his head under the water and doesn’t react, “Will you at least look at me?”
I watch as he slowly turns his head to face me, his eyes dark and hooded, “Why?”
“Why? What?” I know I’m not going to like his answer.
“Why did you turn me down?” His words hit me like bullets, the pain in his words shocks me.
“I… I didn’t turn you down, I just said we would have to leave it for later. I don’t do lateness; I don’t let people down. I think the five years of either giving or receiving orders instilled a sense of duty and responsibility.” I hear how bad this sounds.
Griff switches the shower off, grabs a towel and furiously scrubs himself dry, then stalks into the bedroom. “Do you think I got to be where I am by being late? Do you think you become the world fucking MotoGP Champion by just turning up and giving it a shot? No! It takes fucking years of dedication, years of painful falls and broken bones. Years of traveling the world and having to perform in whatever the conditions are, and not once was I ever fucking late! My life has been a struggle from the day I was born, and I’ve worked fucking hard to be at the top of my game.”
“I don’t doubt that, I have followed you for years. I have always been a fan. But that isn’t what this is about. I just want you to know how much I want you, how I can’t wait to feel you clamped tight around my cock, but I want it to be amazing for both of us. Not a quickie before we have to run out and spend the whole day working. And, trust me, Griff, when I get back inside you, you’ll be able to feel me for the goddamn week. So, are you going to accept my apology?”
“Yes.” Griff still stares at me, trying to read my mind.
“Good, because I meant it. Now, get your ass here so I can kiss you!” I peer back, wondering exactly how submissive he could be if he controlled his temper.
“Fucker!” But he smiles and walks into my arms. Wrapping them around his body, I embrace him tightly.
“Too damn right, and don’t forget it.” I lower my mouth onto him and kiss him long and hard, breaking away quicker than I want to, but I still have to get dressed. “I’m going back to my room to get dressed; gimme ten minutes and I’ll be ready.” I drop a kiss on his pert mouth and walk out of the room.
Heading straight back to my room and the shower, I sit on the stool in the stall and unclip my leg. This needs to be a quick one so I start the shower and rush through soaping my body. After rinsing off, I pull the towel off the hanger and dry briskly, I don’t want a repeat of yesterday. I make it back to my bedroom and grab some sweats and a T-shirt: I’m going to be changing all day so I’m not bothering with buttons and zippers.
With my prosthesis back on, I look around the room; I know I’ve missed something but I don’t know what. Shaking my head, I walk out and search for Griff. I still need to talk to him about walking off but will need to pick my moment. I know how volatile he is as he comes to terms with his new feelings and emotions.
“Hey, you ready?” Griff smiles and hands me another coffee, to-go this time.
“Yep, let’s do this. I get to see you in your underwear all day: I’m as ready as I can be.” I shoot him a wink.