Chapter 54- Gary and Libby

Before i even open my eyes, the easy thrumming of my muscles reminds me of the antics of the night before. I stretch with stiff limbs beneath the covers, and my muscles whine in protest as the kinks knotting my spine slip away one by one.

"Hey."

Opening one eye, i roll onto my back to find Gary smiling down at me, elbow bent, resting on the pillow, supporting his head and looking bright eyed and bushy tailed as ever. The Blackberry he holds across his chest is discarded quickly when he turns and slips it onto the bed side table.

"Sleep well?" He cranes his neck to kiss the corner of my lips, the fingers of the hand formerly holding the Blackberry, pushing my hair back from my shoulders. I nod, smiling, but too stated with sex and sleep to speak. Gary smiles back, the shy smile, the one that is only reserved for Ethan and myself, and my heart skips a beat.

"You look like an angel like this." Gary tips his chin towards my hair, and i can feel it, fanned out against the pillow beneath me, but i furrow my brow non the less.

"Its like a halo.." Gary smiles, nodding towards my hair again by way of explanation, “Of sex mused, blonde hair.”

I scoff. "Well didnt you turn into a hopeless romantic over night?" Managing to pull a hand from under the covers, i caress his lovely, lovely face and smile at the way his stubble tickles my palm, or the way he leans his face into my touch, so slightly that to any onlooker, the action would go unnoticed.

"What do you mean?" Gary feigns indignation, pulling back from my caress; screwing his face up and i want to laugh, because it reminds me of Ethan. "Ive always been a hopeless romantic!"

"Yeah?" I grunt, rolling, with no help from my heavy muscles, onto my front, tucking an arm over Garys torso to avoid mashing my face into the pillow and asphyxiating myself. "Sorry, i must not have been listening to all of those serenades.."

"I could serenade you if you like?" Gary offers and opens his mouth. I jerk my arm quickly, slapping a palm across his parted lips before he can start.

"No no no, thank you, its quite alright."

"You do know people pay to hear me sing, dont you?" Gary grins down at me, the hand not supporting his head snaking across my back and pushing me onto my side to face him. When i steal a look at him, his eyes are twinkling like a kid who found the cookie jar, the neat creases at the corners of the aqua green orbs only making me want to reach up and kiss each and every one. I do, however, supress the urge.

"God." I tut, shuffling closer under the covers to rest my head on Garys bicep, my face now directly underneath his. "Going by the look on your face, anyone would think that you got some last night."

Garys grin only widens, revealing two perfect rows of whitened teeth as his left hand slips lower, cupping my ass. "Oh i did. Lots in fact." His fingers flex, squeezing the ample flesh.

I roll my eyes. "Behave."

"I am!" Gary gasps, leaving his hand firmly cupping my backside, but dipping his neck until his lips are inches above mine and smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

I throw him a dubious glance, but the warmth of his body is too inviting for me to pull myself away, so instead, i shut my eyes again, enjoying the steady thrum of Garys heartbeat against my cheek.

"Youre very full of life this morning, what time did you wake up?" I mutter, nuzzling against him. I feel him shrug, the hand at my rear now drawing light circles over my flesh. "Six-ish? Ethan woke up again. I only put him back down about three quarters of an hour ago, he should sleep for a while longer. We have some time spare."

"Why do i feel like you're not talking about extra time for sleeping?" I grumble, my lips brushing the causer hair of his chest as the pattern of his left hand becomes more urgent, groping at the flesh of my backside.

I hear him grin. And now, its the lop-sided grin, the trademark paparazzi grin, the one that makes hearts stop and pants drop, and I am indeed ashamed to say, that i am not yet immune to its charm.

"What can i say?" Gary dips his neck again, his lips so close to my ear, i can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks. "You know me too well? You look too irresistible?"

"Shut up." With a limp arm, i make an attempt to the swat the fiend away, but instead, find my wrist caught between slender fingers, the warmth of his touch paradoxically making me shiver.

"Come on..." Gary drops my arm to resume the kneading of my rear. "We never get any time anymore.." He cranes his neck, tracing the shell of my ear with the tip of his tongue. I smile.

"That's not true and you know it. You're insatiable." My eyebrow flickers towards my hairline as I tilt my face to catch Garys lips with my own. He mumbles something that I don't understand about fucking and seven shades of Sunday, but doesn't pull his lips from mine.

My right hand makes his debut from under the covers, reaching up to cup the side of Garys jaw, my thumb running back and forth over the itchy four day stubble. He groans, twisting his body until he's looming over me, one hand kneading at my hip, the other curled around my head, pulling the occasional strand of hair between his fingers when he can manage it as I use the crook of his elbow as my pillow. Garys lips move slowly over my own, it's a lazy, languid, we've-got-no-place-to-be kind of kiss. A sleepy Sunday morning kiss. A teenagers kiss, with slow moving and noncolant tongues that lap and curl at their own pace. I moan when I feel my lips swell under the assault of Garys, and he growls, low in his throat as he pulls his arm from under my head to cup my jaw, his thumb reaching to brush the skin just below my eye before his hand snakes into my hair. Tiling my head back, but not moving my lips from his, my own hand finds its way to Garys shoulders, drawing slow and lazy patterns over his flesh with my finger tips as the assault lulls my mind from its slumber.

We continue to kiss, lying in the light cast from the early morning through the slit in the curtains, wrapped in each other in every sense of the word, kissing like two love-struck teenagers, with no promise of sex and nowhere to rush to.

Until Garys phone rings.

Shrill and sharp, shattering the utopian wake-up call we had sheathed ourselves in, just for a short while. I push at Garys shoulders, stealing my mouth away from his with a heavy heart.

“Get that.”

Gary groans, shaking his head ever so slightly and lowering his lips back to my mouth. “Leave it.”

But the clattering on the bedside table paired with the intrustive ring tone has already popped the ideological bubble that said we had nowhere to go and no one to disturb us with the harsh reality that is the outside world. I push at Garys shoulders a second time, this time hauling my heavy body up.

“Just get it..” I smile softly, with just a pang of melancholy as I swing my legs off the edge of the bed, reaching to scoop my robe from the floor and shrugging it on as Gary groans, clearly annoyed as he scrubs at his eyes with the fist of one hand, reaching to hault the Blackberrys onslaught with another.

“Hello?”

I stand, idly picking splayed garments from the bedroom floor and noting, by Gays tone of voice, that our intruder is not a friend nor a college thought of fondly, and the irony stings a little more. Suddenly starving, I tug on some underwear, feeling Garys gaze burn into my back as I stand at the chest of draws, listening to him muttering something about not being bothered with the PR that comes with whatever it is they are asking him to do.

I turn to face him to see that he is now sat up in bed, head and shoulders resting back against the headboard, one had holding the Blackberry to his ear, the other, slung across his chest, scratching his clavicle and the covers bunched at his waist over his outstretched legs. I stand there for a minute, weighing up the pros and cons of straddling him right then and there instead of fetching us both breakfast, but reluctantly settling for the more modest option, miming;

“Brew.” Before seeing him grin enthusiastically as I slip out of the door and start my day.

“Ethan please Baby!” I let out an exasperated breath, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of my nose as the toddler refuses yet another mouthful of food. “Come on, its cheese, you like cheese.”

“No!” Ethans arms flail into the air, his chubby cheeks flustered and red. “No Mumma!”
“Ethan! You have to eat something, you cant live off chocolate!”

“No mumma, no!” He repeats his mantra, pulling his face as far away from my hand as he can reach in his high chair as I hold a piece of bread before his mouth. The notion of a cheese sandwhich went out of the window at least half an hour ago, leaving us both with a Thomas the Tank Engine plate of bread, butter and cheese.

I clear my throat and take a deep breath. “Ethan, look at me.”
Although his face remains turned, the toddler stills and I decide that’s close enough.

“Youre not getting out of the high chair unless you eat at least half of this lunch okay?” I sift though the rememence of the plate, selecting the most edible of pieces and moving them to one side. “Look, here, just eat this here and then you can get out and play.”

Ethan moves his gaze back to the plate, but kicks his legs furiously when he sets his eyes on the clearly unacceptable amount of food.

“No!” He squeals, tears now wetting his over-tired eyes. “No hungry! I no hungry!”

“Ethan you haven’t eaten anything!” I raise my voice to compete with the screeching child, fingers at my temple trying to relieve the building of a thundering headache. “Ethan, if you cry youll be straight to bed.” But snapping only earns me a louder squeal and more tears.  I curse under my breath, dropping my head down onto the table next to the high-chair and settling for my last reort, one I don’t like using, but too desperate to really care anymore. I straighten again, taking the plate from Ethans tray and placing it in front of me on the table for the time being. The crying subsides, as I knew it would, and I open my mouth.

“Shall I get Daddy to feed you instead?” I speak slowly and looking into the wet, green eyes that remind me so much of his father.

Ethan sniffles and shakes his head quickly. We’d both learnt quickly, that Gary stands no messing when it comes to Ethans temperamental meal times.

“If you wont eat for me, ill have to get Daddy, Ethe. Do you want me to do that?”

Ethan shakes his head again, now gnawing at a chubby fist with his tiny teeth.

“No?”

“No.” Ethan mumbles behind a mouthful of hand, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“So youre going to eat for me?” I move the plate of food back onto his tray.

Ethan nods, and I smile. At last. “Good boy.”

The toddler reaches for a small piece of cheese and stuffs it into his mouth, hiccupping on a breath of air from his blitz of tears. The debris of what once was a cheese sandwich, clearly more appetising than a telling off from Daddy...

"Has he finished that yet?" Gary appears in the threshold of the kitchen, hanging up the phone for the tenth time today.
"Nearly." I coo, holding a piece of bread for Ethans sticky fingers to take.
"Good lad." Gary passes behind the high-chair, smacking a kiss on the top of Ethans head as he goes, before moving to the counter top to riffle through todays post.
"Youre popular today." I enquire idly. "Whats all that about?"
He turns to face me, jean clad hips resting against the counter top. "I cant tell you." Gary grins, wide and bright and infectious as ever. "Its a surprise."