"Hey, Theo?"

I've been quietly sitting in his lap for a few minutes now, content with the silence between us and the slow sway of his body.

Maybe too content.

"Mmm." His reply rumbles against the side of my face, his lips brushing against my cheek. Then he clears his throat and sits up straighter, moving his face away from mine. "Yes?"

"Do you have any cigarettes? I hate to be that person, but it's been a hell of a day and I ran out and—"

"Why didn't you say something this morning?" he asks without letting me finish my spiel. "I would have told you to help yourself."

He nudges me off his lap and stands up from the couch. His arm stays around me momentarily as he steers me toward the kitchen but then drops away from my body. "They're in the freezer."

"The freezer?"

Sure enough, he walks to the refrigerator and opens the top section to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. "Yeah. When you only smoke one a day, they tend to get stale. Putting them in the freezer seems to help, but I'll warn you now that it dries them out a bit."

"That's okay. Even if it was the stalest cigarette around, I'd still smoke it," I reply with a shrug. "I'll meet you out there? I put your lighter in my bag."

I take a step back to head for the staircase but Theo reaches on top of the fridge and pulls down a pack of Bics. "All good, I got more here."

And yet, he had waited for me to join him the other night with the excuse that I had his lighter...

He opens the pack to take one out and signals for the front door. "You'd smoke a stale cigarette, eh? When did you run out?"

"This morning," I grumble while we walk through the living room. "Like I said, today's been hell."

Theo gives me a pitying smirk while he opens the door. "No wonder you hit Cal. You're probably niccin' out hard by now."

"Like you wouldn't believe," I readily admit. I make my way to the porch swing and take a seat once we're outside. "That's not what made me hit him though. I guess it's just a knee-jerk reaction when he pisses me off."

"Oh, I believe it. I know a thing or two about that." He sits down next to me and hands me a cigarette, then leans closer to light it for me.

I inhale deeply, savouring the nicotine flooding my senses. "Thanks."

"No problem. As I said earlier, you can help yourself. There's a couple of packs in the freezer." He lights his own cigarette and leans back in the swing.

"Thanks... again."

I don't want to take him up on the offer, but I don't have much of a choice unless I decide to quit cold turkey, which is not something I want to do. I don't have the money to buy my own cigarettes anymore.

Theo shrugs off my thanks and begins to use his feet on the deck to slowly rock the swing.

"What you just said about knowing a thing or two about that. Did you mean niccin' out or my knee-jerk reaction to hit Cal?"

He chuckles and brings his cigarette to his mouth again. "Both. I had a hell of a time quitting. Never did get around to that last step of quitting altogether, as you can see." He lifts his cigarette between us, showing the proof of his statement. "And I experienced your pissed-off, knee-jerk reaction the last time we were on this swing together, so..."

My cheeks burn at the memory of the slap I landed on his cheek after I had been the one to kiss him. They burn even more when I remember how intense the kiss had been.

"I'm sorry about that," I apologize awkwardly, "I should probably work on that..."

"You really should."

I frown at his blunt statement. "Oh yeah? Please, Saint Theodore, tell me more."

"You sure? Maybe you should finish your cigarette first to get your nicotine fix. I don't want you to hit me again."

I roll my eyes and take a long drag from my smoke. "What? You can't take a hit from a woman?"

"That's not the point, Milia," he replies with a frown. "You can't live your life just hitting people when they upset you, whether it physically hurts them or not."

"I—" The word comes out loud and defensively but I manage to stop myself and rein in my emotions. "I know that." This time, my voice comes out weak with shame. "I didn't always do that..."

"I know," he speaks softly. His arm rests along the back of the swing and his fingers lightly brush the back of my hair. "It's a learned behaviour. That's the good news."

"Why is that good news?" I ask as my body develops a mind of its own and moves closer to him. I rest my cheek against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth that comes from under his t-shirt.

His hand rests on my far shoulder now, effectively holding me against his side. "Because," he starts, pausing to bring his cigarette to his mouth before he finishes, "it means you can unlearn it." His bearded face rests against the top of my head.

"Oh yeah?" I inquire with a flirty smile, though from his position he's unable to see it. "You going to teach me to be a good girl?"

"You're already my good girl." His deep voice murmurs the words against the top of my head, so low that I'm not quite sure that I heard him right.

"Pardon?"

He lifts his head from mine and clears his throat. "I said, you already are a good girl, Emilia. Like I've told you before, you're a good person. But yes, if you want my help breaking bad habits and knee-jerk reactions, I would be happy to."

"How would you do that?"

I'm tempted to ask him if he'll bend me over his knee, but in this moment, I don't feel the urge to make him squirm uncomfortably. I want to stay in this comfortable bubble, together on the porch swing.

"I'll have to think about it. But do you remember what you agreed to last night?"

I'm pretty sure I know what he's getting at, and I had already managed to avoid the conversation with Cal.

"I was drunk. You can't hold me to anything that I said."

"Emilia, please." His voice sounds a little desperate and something about the way he uses my full name shows the seriousness of his request.

"Fine," I agree, "but I'm not talking to April."

"I wouldn't expect you to. I'll get a list of numbers for you for women in the area. We can go over their credentials together if you want, or you can do it yourself. Whatever you prefer."

The idea already feels overwhelming. I sit up from his shoulder and haul back on my cigarette, glancing around for the ashtray.

I notice it on the deck by our feet at the same time that Theo begins to lean forward for it. He stretches the leg closest to me out in front of him while he lowers his hand toward the porch floor, but I stop him with a hand on his thigh. "I can get it."

"It's fine, Milia. I can..." He drifts off while I bend forward with my hand still on his thigh.

I butt out my smoke and then pick up the ashtray so that Theo can do the same, but when I look at him he's sitting back with his head tilted up to look at the covered porch ceiling.

He exhales a long, slow breath, then drops his head forward again and reaches for the ashtray.

"What was that?" I ask with a raised brow while he puts his cigarette out.

He meets my eyes, looking slightly embarrassed, and gives me a slight shrug. "Nothing. You just put some pressure on my thigh and—"

"Oh shit!" I clue in too late that the leg my hand is resting against is his injured one. I move my hand away, but Theo is already shaking his head.

"No, no. It's fine. It didn't hurt, it was..." He shakes his head again and gives me a reassuring smile. "It's all good, Milia."

"It didn't hurt, my ass, Theodore. I saw your reaction."

He chuckles and nods his head slowly to reluctantly agree. "Well, sure, I guess it did in a way, but it was the good kind of hurt."

I frown at him. "The good kind? I didn't take you for that sort of kinky, Theo."

His loud, boyish laugh escapes him and he lightly pushes my shoulder. "C'mon, Milia. You've never had a deep massage on a sore muscle? Yeah, it kind of hurts, but frick, it hurts good."

I remember the way he massaged his calf muscle and then his thigh this morning and the wince that kept crossing over his features.

I place the ashtray down next to me and scoot forward on the swing to angle myself toward him.

Theo gives me a curious frown then laughs a little uneasily when I reach my hands toward his leg. "I wasn't trying to drop a hint or anything. I don't want—" His sentence is cut off by a sharp intake of air when my palms press against either side of his left thigh.

"Was that too hard?" My eyes flick up to meet his as I ease up on the pressure.

"No," he answers quickly, "that was good. I usually press a little harder even, but you don't need to do this, Milia, I... Mmmph."

His eyes close and a drawn-out sound escapes him when I slide my hands up a couple of inches and exert pressure again. And fuck, the way it makes my nipples harden should be fucking illegal.

"Like that?" I ask, watching his face intently as his features once again smooth out and he opens his eyes.

He doesn't speak this time. He just makes eye contact and gives one short nod.

My hands go back to work, pressing and rubbing along his jean-clad thigh, while Theo closes his eyes and occasionally lets out a long breath or low groan. And damnit, if the sounds don't make me wish I was rubbing something else of mine along his thick thigh... or my hands along something else of his that I imagine to be quite thick.

Perhaps Theo can read my mind, or maybe my hands have travelled a little too far up his leg because suddenly his eyes flash open and his hands come up to wrap around my wrists.

I freeze, waiting for his reaction, but he seems to be frozen as well.

He just stares at me, holding my wrists captive so that I'm unable to resume the massage but also unable to move my hands away.

"Too hard?" I ask softly, feeling as though my eyes are also being held captive by his dark gaze.

"Not yet, but I will be if you keep this up."

He answers with such little expression in his voice that it takes me a moment to believe that I heard him right, and then I have to decide how to respond to that.

I want to tease him. I want to kiss him. I want to feel him.

Instead, I finally manage to drop my eyes from his and look down to where he's holding my wrists.

The action seems to remind Theo that he's holding onto me, and he quickly releases them.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you prisoner," he laughs awkwardly, even as I speak over him at the same time.

"What about your calf?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's fine. I..."

He drifts off while I move from the porch swing to rest on my knees in front of him.

"Get up, Emilia," he demands in an authoritative yet quiet voice, but I have no problem ignoring the command.

My thumbs rest against his shin while my fingers wrap partway around his calf muscle on either side, and I begin massaging the muscle.

I try to keep my eyes focused on what I'm doing this time, not wanting to risk seeing a look of disapproval on his face... Or maybe I'm worried that I'll see just the opposite and end up begging him to let me show him just how hard he can get.

Another groan rumbles out of him and then his palm is caressing my cheek while his large fingers rake into my hair just above my ear.

"Princess," his deep voice demands my attention while he uses his palm to gently angle my face up to meet his eyes. "Stand up. Please."

I take my hands off his calf muscle to obey, and his free hand moves under my elbow to assist me.

All the while, we hold eye contact, and a slow, sexy smile begins to spread across Theo's face as he helps me back onto my feet.

"Good girl," he murmurs affectionately with his hand still resting against my cheek. His fingers toy with a strand of hair behind my ear.

I can not wait to fuck him.