Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen Book 5)
Taming 7: Chapter 64

“So.” Body rigid, I clutched the blanket draped over us and stared up at the roof. Seriously, I was so stiff I was halfway towards rigor mortis. “That was different.”

“Very different,” Claire agreed from her perch beside me as she also clutched the blanket and stared at the roof.

“Uh, sorry about the whole blowing my load before you got to come,” I added. “I, ah, was overexcited.”

“Oh no, no, I did,” she was quick to answer.

My brows shot up. “You did?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, attention still trained on the roof. “Once before and once during.”

“Oh.”

“You couldn’t you tell?”

“Nope. I was just freaking the fuck out the entire time.”

“Oh.” She blew out a shaky breath. “Well, I did so … uh, good job?”

“Uh, thanks?” I shifted slightly, causing our shoulders to brush. “You, too.”

“Thanks,” she squeezed out. “So, uh, did the condom stay on your ladder the whole time?” Shrugging, she added, “You know, with the whole piercing thing?”

“I don’t know.” I tightened my hold on the blanket, feeling a wave of panic wash over me. “I’m afraid to check.”

“Yeah,” Claire agreed, sounding equally panicked. “Me, too.”

“I didn’t hurt you, though, did I?” I forced myself to roll onto my side to face her. After all, looking in her eyes when we talked was the least I could do considering what she just let me do to her body. “It wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“What? No, of course you didn’t hurt me,” Claire replied, mirroring my actions by rolling on her side to face me. Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes bright. Smiling sheepishly, she reached over and stroked my cheek. “You were so good.”

“I was?”

“So good.” A girly squeal escaped her, and she bit down on her lip, still grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

“You can’t?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” she teased. “I bet you’ve heard that a hundred times before.”

“Nope.”

“But you … ” She frowned in confusion. “You’ve clearly done that before.”

“Nope.”

“Wait.” Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “You’re a virgin, too?”

I hesitated before asking, “What’s your definition of a virgin?”

“For you, it would mean that you’ve never put your ladder in another girl’s tree,” she replied innocently.

“Then yes.” I shrugged. “Or at least I was until half an hour ago.”

“Omigod!” She bolted onto her feet and the move caused her to take the blanket that was covering both of us with her. “I can’t believe this!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Gerard, it’s an amazing thing.” Twisted up in the blanket, she quickly dropped to her knees and scooted back to where I was sprawled out.

“Contrary to the bullshit that spurts from my mouth, I’m more of a flirt than an action man,” I offered.

“You think filthy thoughts,” she teased. “You could write a book.”

“If I could write.” I snorted. “I’m the best at the sex texts. You just ask any of the lads. I’m gifted.” I grinned up at her. “I’m so fucking detailed, that I could be a screenwriter on a porn set. I just … I fuck up the spellings and then everyone knows it’s me.”

“Did you keep it for me?” she asked, happily skipping over my random comments. “Your virginity?” Her eyes were bright with excitement, as she bounced on her knees. “Omigod, I already know the answer, but I need to hear you say it.”

“I’ve told you before, there’s only you for me, Claire-Bear.”

“Aww!” She clutched her chest and cooed at me like I was one of our kittens. “I so knew you were going to say that, but it sounds amazing anyway.”

“Yeah, so listen,” I began to say, while I mentally prepped for what was about to come, “you know the way I have that really bad phobia?”

“Of blood?” She nodded solemnly. “It’s so bad for you, isn’t it?”

“Hmm,” I replied, voice cracking like a girl’s as the mental image popped into my head and made me feel faint. “I know this is a strange request, but I was kind of hoping you would do me a solid and check.”

“Oh, you mean check.” Her eyes widened when she registered what I meant. “Me or you?” she asked and then started to remove the blanket from her body.

“Both,” I replied and then swiftly clenched my eyes shut.

“Okay, ew!”

“Ew?” My heart started to thunder wildly in my chest. “Is that a good ew or a bad ew?”

“Uh, kind of both.”

“Both?”

“Don’t freak out, but I sort of bled on the both of us.”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” My stomach rolled. “Is it bad? Is there a lot? Is it on me? It’s fucking on me, isn’t it?”

“No, of course it’s not bad,” she huffed, sounding insulted. “And calm down, you big baby. It’s just your typical run of the torn-hymen blood loss.”

“Torn hymen?” I think I screamed. “What the fuck is that?”

“You know what that is, Gerard,” she snickered. “You’ve had the talk.”

“Oh my God, baby, you have to take the condom off,” I strangled out, feeling faint. “Please, I’m begging you, because if I have to look at your torn hymen – and I’m really sorry about tearing it by the way – then I’ll pass out.”

“Gerard!”

“I’m serious,” I strangled out, chest heaving. “I know I’m being a pussy, and I swear I’ll make it up to you, but I will die on the mortal spot if I see blood, Claire. Die, I tell you!”

“You are being ridiculous,” she huffed, but when I felt her fingers on my dick, I sagged in relief. “You know, in the movies, it’s the men that look after the woman after sex,” she complained, as she rolled the condom off. “Not the other way around.”

“We’re not in the movies, Claire-Bear,” I choked out. “We’re in a treehouse in your mam’s backyard in Ballylaggin.”

A few minutes later, she instructed, “Okay, lift your hips.” When I obliged, she pulled my boxers into position. “Just keep your eyes closed when you take a shower later and you’ll be golden.”

“And you?”

“Yes, Gerard, I’m perfectly decent again. You big baby.”

I risked a peek and sagged in relief when my eyes landed on Claire pulling on her pajama pants.

“Sorry about the drama.” I offered her a sheepish grin. “Hope you still love me.”

“You’re such a dope.” She slipped her t-shirt back on and smirked. “But yes, Gerard Gibson, I still love you.”

“Thank God for that.” Feeling braver, I stood up in a stooping position to avoid the roof and went to her. “My hero.”

“Claire! Gerard!” Sinead’s voice echoed from the other side of the garden, followed by my own mam’s voice when she called out, “Dinnertime.”

“Coming, Mam,” Claire called back before turning to face me. “Poor innocent fools,” she snickered. “They don’t have a clue what we just did in here.”

“Yeah,” I started to laugh, but quickly sobered when my eyes locked on the white duvet. The white duvet with a crimson red blood stain. “Oh no, no, no,” I heaved, feeling faint, as I staggered backwards. “You have to get me away from it,” I begged, and then, because I was a fucking eejit, I made a run for the door, only to smack my head off the roof beam above me.

The sound of Claire calling my name was the last thing I heard before everything went black.

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