Trace of Innocence | Sweet and Sour (Book 4)

Chapter 51

(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 51 - Best I Ever Had)

November 2015

The bed beneath me dips, gently rousing me into consciousness. My senses come to me one by one. The feeling of movement and warmth beside me. The sound of covers rustling and soft breathing. The delicate scent of familiarity - tropical shampoo, accompanied by the unique smell of her, and the crude lingering hint of sex. The taste of my own morning breath, which quite frankly is fucking disgusting. And finally, the sight of Jess - the love of my life - lying next to me in my bed, smiling shyly.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," I whisper back. "You're beautiful."

She beams, and I can't help beaming back.

"You are," she argues.

"You are," I repeat, grinning stupidly and reaching my arm out towards her before I realise she is now wearing a tight camisole beneath the duvet. "Why do you have clothes on?"

"I was cold, and needed a wee," she replies, and my grin widens.

"I need a wee too," I tell her. "I love how we can share these things."

As stupid as it sounds, these are the moments I have missed the most. The pointless, mundane conversations that have no boundaries. The ability to share anything and everything with her, including the fullness of my bladder. Which right now, is bordering on uncomfortable.

"I love you," she says softly, tucking her hand beneath the pillow and adjusting her head as she looks at me. Her eyes are bright and sparkling, and her skin looks soft and clear. I dread to think how I look in comparison, with my hair matted into a knot at the back of my head, and an oil slick on my nose. Not to mention the dreaded morning breath, although it's not like we haven't kissed first thing in the morning before.

"I love you too, baby," I reply in the same tone. "How do you look this good after so little sleep?"

"Because you're probably still drunk," she suggests, at which I scoff impatiently.

"Nonsense. You always look amazing. You looked incredible last night, at the show. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

"You gave me butterflies every time you looked at me," she confesses a little shyly, and this causes my stomach to flutter in response. I can't resist kissing her, just because she's lovely, and she makes me so fucking happy. Unfortunately, the change in position has a direct effect on my bladder, pushing it from uncomfortable to critical.

"I really need a wee," I mutter, rolling onto my back to ease the pressure. "Why don't you go downstairs and make me a brew, and I'll meet you back in bed after my wee?"

I grin at her as she rolls her eyes, not really expecting her to comply with this request, but to my surprise she climbs out of bed with an exaggerated sigh, and pulls on a pair of my boxer shorts.

"It's a good job you're drop dead gorgeous, Styles," she mutters. "You get away with murder."

"Are you really going to make me a brew?" I grin delightedly.

"You asked didn't you?" she counters, with a shrug and a smile. "I don't mind. I don't think anyone's up yet anyway. I'll be really quick."

She hurries round the bed to give me a quick peck (mental note - I'm going to brush my teeth right now) and then scurries silently out of my room, shutting the door behind her. I leap out of bed to answer the now-urgent call of nature in the ensuite, vigorously brush my teeth and wash my face. I pull on a clean pair of boxers, having decided to check Jess is OK and hasn't been accosted half-naked by any stray members of my family that may already be up.