Chapter 16
After dinner, Gemma retreated to her quarters to shower and prepare for bed. Royal went to get his overnight bag and suit out of the car because even though he was spending the night and taking her to the doctor, he’d still planned on going to the office afterward.
Bummer, she thought. She could get used to having him all to herself. That got her to thinking well into the future – what if this thing with Royal went beyond boyfriend and girlfriend? What if friends became lovers and lovers, in turn, became husband and wife? Husband and wife? She grinned to herself. No way. Royal never talked about marriage in any context. Is marriage something he looked forward to, or did he have objections to it? Did men his age think about marriage? Most men didn’t regardless of their age, so why would he?
“Gosh, we really need to talk,” she mumbled to herself as she shut off the shower. “Or am I being all Gianna-ish? Should I just go with the flow and be quiet about this? See where this thing takes us?”
After she dried off, she slid into a pajama set – a sherbet orange tank top and short shorts. He’d seen her in it before, but something about exposing the length of her legs to him now made a shiver run up her spine, probably because he would try to grab them the first chance he got with his affectionate self.
“Hey,” he said as soon as he saw her emerge from the bathroom.
“Hey,” she responded, instantly feeling goosebumps flutter over her whole body. She tried to dismiss the feeling by casually walking over to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lotion that she left there. She picked it up, flicked the lid to open it and at the same time, she glanced up at him, watching him pull his shirt up over his head. The nerves in her hand jolted, and the bottle slipped from her grasp. When it hit the floor, lotion splattered everywhere. “Oh, shoot.”
“What’s wrong?”
She bent over to pick up the bottle and he came walking around the bed to see what she was doing. “I dropped it.”
“You dropped it? Just like that?”
“Yeah. It just slipped out of my hand.”
Royal walked to the bathroom to grab some paper towels, and when he came back, he kneeled to wipe up the spill while saying, “I’ve never known you to have butterfingers. You must’ve been distracted…checking me out again, huh?”
She giggled. “I was.” She sat on the bed’s edge.
“You should’ve just told me you wanted some lotion on that sweet body of yours. I can handle it.”
“No, I got it.”
“I got it all over my hands now…may as well put it to good use,” he said, crawling closer to the bed while on his knees.
“Royal…stop it.”
He gripped her calf muscles and said, “Shh…lay back. I got this.” His eyes swept over her body. “All of this.”
“Royal…”
“What’s wrong? You don’t want me to touch you?” he asked, while purposely massaging already.
“No, I like it. I just think we need to be doing more talking than touching right now. This thing between us, whatever this is…”
“You’re my girl. That’s what this is.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her right knee.
She smiled. “I’ve never been anyone’s girl.”
“Well, lucky for you, now you’re mine.” Royal rubbed lotion between his hands to warm it, then lowered them down to her skin creating gentle pressure on her thighs. And then he manually pried her legs open wider so they were on either side of his torso and he was in between, still on his knees, massaging. He used his thumb to work the inner thighs, kneading and rubbing the soft skin on up to the juncture of her thighs.
Gemma’s lips quivered. “Oh, Lord, help me.”
He chuckled. Were her eyes really rolling back in her head? He knew he was capable of bringing a woman maximum pleasure but just the pure act of kissing and massaging seemed to be doing it for her. “You act like I’ve never touched you before.”
“You have, but not my biscuit.”
His eyebrows raised. “Your biscuit?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. He had an idea of what she referred to as her biscuit, but he wanted further clarification just for kicks. “What’s your biscuit?”
“That,” she said pointing to the area between her thighs.
He laughed. “That’s a new one. Why do you call it a biscuit?”
She shrugged. “That’s what Gianna calls it.”
Figures. “A biscuit, huh?” he asked, still laughing.
“Yep.”
“Well, in that case, I need to go see if Carson can find me some grape jelly to go along with it.”
Gemma squirmed, closing her legs tight, but he pried them back open again and said, “Okay, I won’t touch the biscuit—at least not tonight.”
“Royal!”
“What? You act like it’s not going to happen. At some point or another, that biscuit is going to get bitten.”
“Royal!”
He was so busy laughing, he couldn’t apply the lotion properly. “Alright, let me focus. I’m about to get you all lathered up baby. Lay back.”
“No. I told you I got it.”
“I’m not gon’ mess with your biscuit, Gemma. Just lay back.”
“Okay,” she said and laid back on the bed.
Royal did a full once over of her body, then started with her legs, listening as she moaned softly at his touch. And then, he rubbed and massaged her toes, one by one, digging the pad of his thumbs into the arch of her feet.
Gemma wiggled. She never knew it would feel this good to be touched by a man. And when he told her to turn over on her stomach, he straddled her, mindful of his weight and massaged her back in heated strokes feeling her quiver beneath his hands. When he was done, he placed the bottle on her nightstand and laid on the bed, opening his arms to her.
She crawled over to him and happily drowned into his calming embrace.
“I think Gianna knows something is up between us,” he told her.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because she didn’t have any objections with me staying with you tonight. She was cool with it—the same woman who is super protective over you—and suddenly she has no qualms with me spending the night.”
“That’s because she trusts you, and she knows I trust you, too.”
“You do?”
“Stop playing, Royal,” she said brushing her fingers across his beard. “You know I trust you.”
He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Did you take your medicine already?”
“Yes. I took my medicine,” she drawled out.
“Good. You said we need to do more talking than touching.”
“That’s right.”
“What do want to talk about?”
“Us.”
“Elaborate, baby. What about us?”
“I’m going to preface this by saying…um…I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I don’t know what questions to ask or not ask…I just know that some things need to be said.”
“So, say them,” he told her.
“I can’t have children.”
“Okay.”
“That’s all you have to say to that?” she asked him.
“Yeah,” he said. “What more is there to say?”
She sat up and looked at him. “There’s plenty to say, Royal, especially if you want children.”
“Gemma, you haven’t been my girl for twenty-four hours yet and you’re already talking about children?”
“Aren’t couples supposed to discuss things like this?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then that’s what I’m doing. I’m putting it out there because I don’t want you to find out later on down the road when you want babies and I can’t have them. That’ll be a problem, wouldn’t it?”
“Dang, you move fast, don’t you, girl?” he asked. He knew she wasn’t one to panic, but now, that’s exactly what she was doing. He found it endearing because even though the conversation was a bit premature, he understood why she wanted to bring it up so soon. She was thinking long-term about him and his feelings. She was putting herself in his shoes.
“Okay, calm your pretty little self down for a minute,” he told her.
“But, Royal—”
“Shh,” he said, placing his index finger on her lips.
She opened her mouth and caught his finger between her teeth.
A smile grew on his face. “Alright,” he said in a warning tone. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew, baby.”
“You’re not listening to me,” she managed to say without releasing his finger.
He pulled his hand away from her mouth and said, “I am listening. I heard everything you said. Will you allow me to respond to it?”
“Yes. Please.”
“I don’t want children,” he admitted.
She frowned. “You don’t?”
“No. I’m just fine with being Uncle Royal to my brothers’ future children.”
“Hmm…” she said, thinking it over. “Interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“I was just thinking…what kind of man doesn’t want children?”
He chuckled. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No. I thought most men wanted children to carry on the family name and all that.”
“Sweetie, I promise you I’m being truthful. I never wanted children. You can ask Rom, Ram, Regal or my parents. Take your pick.”
“What about marriage?”
He chuckled. “I must’ve really put that kiss on you, huh?” he chuckled. “Got you in here talking about kids and marriage. What’s next, Gemma? A big house on the lake with white picket fences? A dog? You want to know where I see myself in five years? Ten?”
Gemma smiled and returned to her position of lying on his chest. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just anxious for this to work now that I know you like me.”
“It will work. I’m in this for the long haul. I don’t want anything about us being short term. And to answer your question, yes, I would like to get married one day. What about you?”
“Ummm…I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?”
I never thought about it in detail. “It’s one of those things in life that I didn’t think was possible for me.”
“Well, now it is.”
She smiled softly against his chest. Yes, it is.