“Ludo, why don’t you bring Sunny over for dinner next Friday night?” Beverley said. “With any luck Uncle Ben will be out of hospital by then, and we can have a double celebration.”
The wordcelebrationfelt premature, a little too serious, a little bit toobig. The situation was spinning out of our control.
“It’s already a double celebration, Beverley,” Hugo said. “It’s the night before the coronation, remember.”
I looked at Ludo. The decision was up to him. He smiled from ear to ear.
“I’d love to,” I said, and with all my heart I meant it.
“Any special dietary requirements?” Hugo sneered. “Nut allergy? Vegan, perhaps?”
“I’m just an old-fashioned red meat–eating republican.”
Beverley laughed. Hugo’s eyes boggled. I felt Ludo’s fingers dig into my back.
A few minutes later, party arrangements confirmed, Hugo and Beverley wandered off to make small talk about the rat-d’or with rich folk. I placed my hands on Ludo’s hips and guided him back to our spot against the wall. His shirt was untucked, and I slid my fingers up onto the soft skin of his waist. It sent electricity through me, touching this smooth, hidden flesh.
“Now, where were we?” I went to kiss him, but Ludo pulled away, putting a finger to my lips.
“Shall we… go?” he said.
I couldn’t say yes quickly enough.
As we waited for the lift, I saw a large glass goldfish bowl filled with business cards, with a sign that said, “Leave your card for a chance to win our rat-d’or prize!” The prize was a weekend away at the Pranayama Retreat, Melbourne. I pulled a battered old business card from my wallet and tossed it in. I was feeling lucky. The elevator dinged. I put my arm around Ludo and waited for the doors to slide open.
Chapter36
Ludo
Islid open the door to the summer house.
“Wait here,” I said, nipping inside.
“Hurry up, it’s cold out here.”
“I won’t be a minute.”
Cue me, rushing around madly, making the bed, throwing clothes from the floor into the laundry basket, lighting a few Molton Brown candles, and slipping out of the pants I’d been wearing all evening and into a fresh pair. I checked myself in the mirror, took my glasses off, put them back on, took them back off again, and put them on the bedside table. I ran my fingers through my hair and, finally, flung open the door.
“Here to read your gas meter, mate,” Sunny said. I laughed but hoped he wasn’t planning to continue this role play once he stepped across the threshold. Not tonight, anyway.
“Nice gaff. The candles seem brave, given, you know, your history.”
“Can I get you anything? A glass of water, or…?”
Sunny moved towards me, our eyes firmly locked on each other. His face was beautiful, lit by the golden flickering of the candlelight. I stepped backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed and I fell onto it. Sunny lowered himself down onto me, the weight of him pressing into me. Our legs tangled. The smell of him filled my lungs and made my heart thump in my chest. My body shivered and tingled. I looked up into Sunny’s eyes, his beaming face. Tenderly, he brushed my hair from my face, his fingers gently weaving through my unruly curls.
“You’re gorgeous. You know that?”
“I’m starting to think you’re not really here to read my gas meter at all.”
Sunny laughed and lowered his lips to my neck, kissing his way along my jaw towards my mouth. Softly, slowly, like he was savouring every single moment. We kissed, and our hands explored each other’s bodies. Within a few minutes, shoes had been kicked off, trousers had been removed and shirts were crumpled on the floor. We rolled around on the bed, kissing and tasting and breathing in every single part of each other, each lost in the other, lost in this delicious, precious moment. I felt more complete, more whole, than I had ever felt in my entire life, just being wrapped up in his arms and having him in mine. My body ached for him, wanted him, needed him, and when I couldn’t bear the ache any longer, it welcomed him in.
* * *
In the afterglow, Sunny lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. I lay beside him, studying his body in the candlelight. Wherever the sun had kissed his skin, it was bejewelled with freckles the colours of toast and ochre. The trail of them wound from the neck and across the lean muscle of his chest, where his infamous nipples, the colour of ballet slippers, still stood en pointe. I kissed them. Then I kissed his collarbones and the explosion of auburn and amber gemstones that covered the tight muscles of his shoulders. I rested my head on his chest, my cheek pressing into the warmth of his body. I felt his heart beating beneath me and breathed in the homely, manly scent of him. He smelt of nutmeg and sandalwood and of two boys who had just had sex. He was beautiful, and he was in my bed.
* * *
