Celia

I don't see Patrick in school the next day and he doesn't answer my calls. Gio says not to worry, that we'll find a different distributor. On the bright side, Chase has sold most of our supply to all the Friendsgiving parties happening this week.

Meanwhile, Gio and I have been feeding the new seedlings while messing around in between every available minute. You'd think that with all the teasing, we'd go further, but that's not what happens at all.

I realize that as much as I seek the thrill of him taking over, one small error whether from me or from him— or even imagined— puts me in a nightmare that I can't wake up from.

With other fears, I can grab it and dissect it. For example, I don't fear his motorcycle skills, he's careful and focused. He's not reckless. If I ever doubt that, my mind quickly reminds me.

But this... my mind can't reach. At times, I can't say the safe word. I don't want to. I can't think clearly to understand how anxious I am. One moment I'm excited, next I'm panicking.

Gio's gentle, soothing me with his touch and comforting words. But I'm underwater, poking my head out just barely enough to breathe. His voice muffles, my eyes gloss over, and images from the past of my dad and other men hurting my mom play in my head like a broken record.

I feel terrible, because I really like what he's doing. But it's like walking on a tight rope at all times and I need it to be a solid ground. It's just...

Gio's so overwhelming sometimes.

Like right now, I'm on the edge of the bed in my white robe, freshly showered, listening to him talk about his plans when he casually starts to take his clothes off.

He grabs the hem of his black shirt and lifts it over his head, baring his wide chest and the V-line etched down his waist. He tosses the shirt onto the ground, golden biceps and tatted forearms lowering into a subtle arch. There's this lion-like, lethally calm grace to his movements.

And he's so nonchalant, still talking about God knows what while he removes his gray sweatpants along with his black briefs, then stands up straight.

Butt fucking naked.

I turn into a statue and force myself to focus on his face. Like that thirsty SpongeBob meme with sweat dropping down my forehead.

Isn't that too big? Should I be concerned? Why is he so hard right now?

It's like... bouncing every time he moves. His deep voice doesn't help at all. Oh God. Okay, calm down. It's just like Google, but 3D.

He must notice, because he stops talking, then turns to check himself out in the mirror.

"You see how it curves down a little?" He twists his hips for a better angle.

"Huh?" I look up at his face, still not moving a muscle.

"The curve?" Gio traces his finger across the length of his shaft. "See the curve?"

"Oh! Yeah. I do."

The curve.

"Is that..." I scratch my nose. "Is that a good thing?"

"I don't know." He chuckles, then smirks with mischievous eyes. "It's supposed to be."

"Hm. Are those... ridges on the bottom?" I tilt my head, drawing in the air. My dildo looks like a ballerina compared to that.

"This?" Gio gets right in front of my face. He flips his cock over his stomach and brushes his finger across the protruded line from the base to underneath the head. "That's an artery."

"Hmm." I nod; same way I nod if teachers make eye-contact with me during class.

"You want to see how far it can go inside you?" He asks, then pushes me on the bed, climbing on top of me.

"Huh?" I squeak. My robe was already loose, so it comes undone. He lifts me higher and lowers between my legs. "What are you doing?" I blush, looking down at where we're connected.

"Showing you." He grips himself and props it on my stomach. He starts to explain something and slowly thrusts it forward.

He hovers above me, arms by my sides, murmuring in husky, rugged voice. I'm just glued on the thing coming at me in what seems to be a slow-motion horror movie.

The foreskin rolls back, peaking his head like a gliding predator. Veins wrap around his girth, which is thick and warm on top of my stomach. It keeps coming, closer and closer, then stops—

Right by my belly button.

Haha. My belly button. Butt fuck, belly button.

He pulls back to do it again, fingers pushing on my stomach to emphasize whatever he's explaining. I realize after a moment he's stopped talking and is now just waiting for me.

I look up, freeze, and burst out laughing.

"I didn't hear a word you said!" My voice is breathless as I cover my mouth.

Gio chuckles and looks off to the side. "Great." He tries to be sarcastic, but sounds a little smug.

My eyes start to water, freaking me out more. "I got so scared!" I gasp to myself.

A tear falls down my cheek and I hide my face, laughing and crying. I try to make a joke out of it so he doesn't think I'm completely insane.

"You must be so flattered right now. You showed me your dick and I got so scared, I started crying!"

"Yeah, I know." He chuckles and falls on his side, giving me some space.

I expect that to help, but I shiver and curl into myself, crying even more.

"Baby!" Gio gasps in a slightly chiding tone and comes back, hugging me to his chest. "You're safe, you know I'd never hurt you, right?"

Though he still sounds a little amused, his tone is kind and I find myself calming down. I wrap my legs and arms around him, closing my eyes.

"Mhm." I fill my lungs with as much air as I can, then slowly exhale. The pressure from his warm chest on mine eases the tension.

"If you ever get scared and can't say the word, I want you to do this." Gio sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. "Like this, okay? Can you show me?"

"I like that," I smile, doing as he says. It's like a self-hug.

He kisses my forehead and continues to hold me, his face just a couple of inches away. His eyes sparkle with affection, making me feel like I can take as much time as I need to feel better.

"Gio..." I mumble.

"What is it, baby?"

"Why do you like doing rough things to me?"

He thinks for a moment, then answers in a calm voice. "Because I know how much you like it."

"That's why?"

"Yeah." He smiles. "If you didn't, I'd just try other things to see what you like."

"But you also like it." I playfully squint.

"I do." He nods and smiles sheepishly, looking away.

"Why?" I press, amused to see him in such a rare, boyish character.

"Probably my ego." He ponders for a moment, then looks at me. A small smirk tugs on his lips before he lowers his face and slowly kisses down my neck, squeezing my hips.

"I like how at first you try to fight it, acting like you don't want it." I hear the smile in his voice as I try to push his chest away before he even finishes the sentence. "Because then..." He swirls his tongue and grazes his teeth across my skin, making me softly moan. "I get to see that face." He pulls back with a smirk and grabs my chin, catching my startled and already needy expression. "And know that you can't help yourself." He growls out before attacking my lips.

I moan again and he groans, sending a shiver down my spine. His palms squeeze my ass, lifting me off the mattress. He wraps my legs around his waist then drops his palms on either side of my face. I flinch as they smack the sheets and curl my shoulders in, holding onto his neck. He grabs my throat, making my eyes snap open and freeze on his dark, hardened expression.

He pushes his thumb in my mouth and my cheeks burn, but I force myself not to look away.

His gaze lowers to my lips wrapped around his thumb. That's when I bite, too flustered to do what I've read I'm supposed to do.

"Did you just bite me?" He chuckles, dimples indenting his cheeks. His upper lip curls into a snarl and he bares his teeth, inching closer to me. "Did you just bite me? Huh?"

"You deserved it." I giggle, turning away from him.

"I deserved it, huh?" He starts biting me all over my neck, but not sinking his teeth at all. It just tickles and makes me thrash under him, fighting him off in the midst of laughter.

He rolls on his back and takes me with him, making me straddle his lap. Immediately, I wrap the white robe around myself, but he grips the sides and yanks it back open. He smirks at me slowly as I yelp in protest and jerks me down on him. I fall in the crook of his neck with a gasp.

He grips my hip with one hand and fists my hair with the other. "Are you trying to get punished?"

"I haven't even done anything..." I sass back, trying to pull away, but in reality I grind on him.

He groans and I can't stop myself from laughing a little, then I quickly kiss his neck to distract. His hands on my hips loosen and I sneak a glance at his face, noticing his eyes are closed. Hm, he likes it.

"Do you want a blowjob?" I ask, feeling more confident.

"What?" His eyebrows rise as he opens his eyes.

I chew on my bottom lip with a little smile, watching the surprise flash in his eyes.

Then his brows furrow and he laughs. "Weren't you just crying after seeing it? Why do you want to put it in your mouth now?"

"Am I supposed to put it in my ear? What type of a question is that?" I sit up and scowl at him.

He laughs harder and rubs his eyes with one hand. "God... you're too funny, Celia."

"I know, I'm a stand-up comedian. But you know what, I bet my mouth has other talents you'd like to discover..." I roll my eyes at my own cheeky comment and lower down between his legs. "So you just sit back and watch the performance," I blurt out and laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." He leans on his elbows and tries to sound serious, but he's grinning. "Baby, I don't think right now is the right time. I don't want you to get upset."

"Then stop talking," I scowl, lowering my lips to his abs.

He chuckles and sits up, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. "I'm serious."

"What?" My mouth falls open as he slides off the bed and leaves the room.

"I got to shower! We have a busy day ahead of us. Everyone's coming over later, we need to get ready."

"It would take ten minutes!" I wrap the robe around myself and run after him.

He opens the bathroom door in the hallway and switches the light on, ignoring me.

"Why won't you let me take care of you?" I cross my arms as he bends over to turn the shower on.

"I'm not." He chides, putting his hand under the water to check the temperature. His legs flex and shoulders hunch, but it's a bit comical when he's butt naked.

He straightens up and walks towards me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Out, please. I'd like some privacy?"

"Why? So you can jerk off?" I protest as he pushes me out of the bathroom. "That's why I'm offering! What, do you make a weird face when you come? Do you sing the song of your ancestors? Do you squirt a rainbow with unicorns? What's the deal?"

He laughs with pure disbelief, forehead wrinkling and eyebrows shooting to his forehead. "Baby..." He cups my face and dips to my eye-level. "Why are you fighting with me about giving me head?"

"I told you, I want to make you feel good!" I yell, glaring at his amused face. "Why are you rejecting it?"

"Because." His tone turns more serious and he releases my face, holding the door. "You're not ready."

"Who are you to decide that for me? I'm telling you I am!"

"And I'm telling you, you're not." He raises his brow with a subtle smirk and closes the door on my face.

I gape at the door. "Excuse me?" I smack my palm on it, then knock aggressively. "You know what, mister. There's a fine line between being sexy controlling and being an ass! And you are crossing that line right now. You are not sexy!"

He pretends not to hear me over the shower and sings to himself, boiling me with rage.

"Fine." I grit my teeth and go to the bedroom to get dressed. Out of all the days, today I did not need this shit.

I open the drawer and almost put on some sweats, but I'm going to visit my mom and she would want me looking my best. She always told me that dressing nice was an act of self-love and no pain should ever take that away. And I would never want to disappoint my mom.

I wear the red sweater dress she wore on one cozy Thanksgiving. I fold the pale blue blanket we used to drape over the meadow grass. I pack a poetry book of Kahlil Gibran that we used to read and take some cash to buy cherry pie and figs, with some fresh bread and cheese.

I've charged my phone to the fullest to play music. The same classic tunes and latin rhythms. Each one engraved with memories of us dancing in the meadow.

Maybe that's why I'm pushy and sensitive today. I don't want to party. I don't want to put on a smile. My chest feels ripped open, everything's too raw. Everything. Including anger.

"Where are you going?" Gio comes in when I'm spraying perfume on my neck, a blue towel wrapped around his hips.

"Out."

"I see that. I'm asking where."

"To the grocery store." I roll my eyes, then look back in the mirror. "Any other questions?"

"What's with the attitude?" He paces closer, focusing on my face.

"I don't have an attitude," I grumble, heat gushing up my neck.

He holds my shoulder and turns me to him. "Then why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset!" I push his arm away and grab my purse, heading out of the room.

"What do you need from the grocery store?" He follows behind. "And why did you have to leave it last minute?"

"What the hell?" I laugh over my shoulder, not stopping. "What's wrong with you? Why would you ask me that?"

"What's wrong with me? You're the one acting weird."

"I'm acting weird?" I whip around, making us stop in the hallway. "I'm acting weird? You just shut the door on my face after I told you I want to take care of you! You think you're smarter than me? I have my own brain, I know what's best for me! I don't need you babying me!"

"That's not what I'm doing. All I said is that I don't think we should rush things. You were just upset, what did you think I was going to say?" He laughs sarcastically, making his voice cheerful. "Oh yeah, go ahead, suck me! I don't care if you cry!' I can't do that!"

"You don't know why I cried, it had nothing to do with rushing things." Tears brim my eyes. You could just ask instead of assuming!"

"Baby..." Gio whispers, eyes wide with concern as he tries to approach me.

"No!" I turn around and rush to the living room. "I'm not crying over a blowjob, Gio. I don't need you comforting me." I bend over to put on my boots.

"I'm just trying to talk, Celia. I don't want to fight." He stands in front of me, not moving. "Can we please sit down and talk before you leave?"

"I don't want to talk." I straighten up, keeping my tone cold. He stares back with a serious expression and I know I need to get out of here before I break down. "I want to be alone."

He grabs my arms when I try to step back. "I don't want you upset—"

"Stop! I don't want to be touched right now!"

"Just take a deep breath—"

"Shrek!" I yell, shoving his chest away. He stumbles back with wide eyes. "Read my face!" My voice breaks. "Gio, you're a big guy. I can't fight you off! So if I tell you to back away, you back the fuck away from me!"

He raises his hands, voice low. "I'm not going to hurt you..."

Someone knocks on the door and it takes us a second to turn our heads.

"Who's that?" he mutters, walking towards it.

"You might want to put some clothes on, it's my grandma." I smooth my dress, staring at his towel-wrapped state.

"What is she doing here so early?" Gio gapes at me, coming back.

"I set you up to hang out with her."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm stupid and I wanted you to experience a warm holiday moment with a mother figure," I mutter with a shaking voice and reach to open the door.

"Wait a second." He grabs my wrist, making me stop. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

"Because you'd ruin it."

She knocks again and I pull my arm away.

"You have to stay." Gio tries to say calmly, but his jaw clenches. "I can't do this. I don't feel comfortable about it."

"I don't care. She's already here." I hold the door handle. "If you don't want to spend time with her, then take her home."

~ A/N~
I low key like how both of them have intimacy issues and project in odd ways. Is that too cruel? xD Next POV will be from Gio!

By the way, whose side are we on?