“I’ve never thought of it like that,” I answer truthfully. “But it makes sense, I suppose.”
“If this is supposed to be my uncle, who is the other guy?” he muses, more to himself than a direct question, which I’m not going to give him the answer to. He glances round at the other statues again. “I wonder if they’re all supposed to be people he knew.” He sounds thoughtful for a moment and doesn’t seem to notice when I don’t actually reply. He’ll have to discover that for himself.
“Do you have to clean these as well?” He throws me a look, along with another one of those cheeky grins, which makes my stomach flip and my head go fuzzy because I answer.
“Are you asking if I have to get my brush and work it into all the nooks and crannies?” Shit, I shouldn’t have said something like that, but I couldn’t help it. I expect him to call me out, tell me off, but he doesn’t. He slowly licks his lips and my eyes snap to the movement, unable to look away.
The sound of a phone breaks through the moment, and he pulls a face and digs into his pocket. He answers, but instead of walking off like I expect, I hear him tell them to wait.
“Sorry, I have to get this. Thank you, Jason, this was interesting.” He turns back to his phone, about to walk off.
“Bye, Kai,” I call, and he spins round, his face breaking out into a huge smile that stays with me long after he’s out of sight.
“Yes!”My brother’s scream close to my ear is almost as loud as my own as the ball hits the back of the net. He turns to me and we share a hug just as we share the love of our favourite team. The final whistle goes a few seconds later and Forest have won 2–1. The stand erupts around us as I hug him again, and then Kim, and even their boys, are elated and join in. The match on Saturday is a family affair and we all have season tickets.
“We might finish top of the league at this rate,” Jordan says, voicing what we’re all thinking as we slowly make our way out of the stands and back to the car. I’m driving this time, and talk for the whole journey is of their hopes for the rest of the season.
“Will you stay for dinner?” Kim asks as I pull up outside their house.
“I can fend for myself,” I scoff lightly but she knows that.
“I got a reduced joint at work and it’s been in the slow cooker all day.” Okay, I would never make that for myself and I’m almost salivating at the thought.
“You know I’m not going to resist that, don’t you?” I say and receive her knowing look. I love Kim like the sister she is to me. We’ve both known her for years, and I was glad when my brother finally asked her out and then a few years later plucked up the courage to ask her to marry him. He says she’s too good for him, but I disagree she is amazing, but then so is my brother, and they make a good couple, working together to build a strong family. I love my nephews so much as well. To say they’re a football obsessed family is an understatement. They have pictures and signed shirts framed on their walls, and they go to every home game and as many away ones as they can manage. Sunday is given over to playing as well. Both the boys play in the junior team, Jordan and I play together, and Kim plays in the women’s league locally, and they’re set to win this season.
Kim sets me to work as soon as my coat’s off, making me peel carrots, proving there’s no such thing as a free meal. Jordan sorts the boys out, and it isn’t long before we’re sitting down to a family dinner.
“So what’s the new earl like?” Kim asks once our plates are full and we’re tucking in. “Jordan says he’s living in the hall.”
“I’ve met him a couple of times now, and he seems like a normal guy. He certainly doesn’t act like an earl.” Not that Edwin had acted like one either, but Kai could have been a haughty bastardjust waiting for his uncle to pass away for all we knew. And from the very small amount we know about the rift between the seventh earl and Kai’s father, I don’t think it would have been a great surprise. Just bringing up Kai makes me think of that smile he gave me yesterday. “He’s quite sweet, really. Just a guy who’s been put in a situation he didn’t expect and is trying to make the best of it.”
“Sweet, eh?” Kim raises an eyebrow at me. We’re sitting next to each other, the boys between us and Jordan at the other end of the table, so I doubt anyone else heard her.
“No! Nothing like that,” I protest quickly before she can think otherwise. “He’s not my type,” I mumble, before taking another mouthful so I can’t say anything else, but I hear her soft snort all the same.
“Is he still planning to sell the place, then?” she says, steering the conversation back onto safer topics.
“I don’t think he has a lot of choice. He owes the government a lot in inheritance tax.”
“Do you think he’ll sell to just anyone? We know the Sherwoods have been after that land for years to build houses on it.”
“I hope not,” I say, but again it might not be much of a choice for him.
The rest of the meal passes with talk of the games tomorrow, the logistics of everyone playing and how we’re going to manage them. I say my goodbyes and drive home with my heart full of my family. I love that they include me in everything they do and never because they feel sorry for me being single. I’m quite happy with that state. Not that I wouldn’t welcome a partner, but I’m not actively looking. If it happens then it does. Kim used totry matchmaking, setting me up with all of her single gay friends, but thankfully she gave it up a long time ago. Not that I didn’t catch her spark of interest when I spoke of the earl, which is ridiculous. He’s just a nice guy. Admittedly his smile does things to me, but that’s all. Nothing more.
I try to settle in front of the TV for a couple of hours before bed, but I feel restless and I can’t get Kim’s look at me out of my head. In need of a distraction, I open my laptop and log into For my Fans.
For my Fans works on a series of credits you buy in blocks. Rather than subscribing to one account, though that is also possible, each account holder uploads a video and they determine how many credits it is to watch it. And it varies depending on what they’re doing and how popular they are. Some accounts also allow bespoke videos, which you can request and tell them how many credits you’ll pay to see it. They can accept or refuse that. The system will show you a small thirty second clip as a teaser before you commit your credits, so it’s a good way of browsing.
I haven’t been on the site for a few weeks, so I scroll through the accounts I usually follow. All compact men with strong athletic bodies, they could be football or rugby players. My type, and the majority of guys I’ve dated have been similar. I check them out briefly, but tonight none of them are holding my interest. I switch to browsing new accounts, but as I don’t even make it through the thirty seconds of most of them, I’m beginning to wonder if this was a bad idea and I should give it up and go to bed instead.
I flick onto one last account, and in this one the lighting is low. Sometimes the videos are very bright and extremely explicit, but in this it’s atmospheric and mysterious. I see a slim palefigure, laid out across a chaise longue, draped in a gauzy fabric. He arches his back, lifting off the chaise, the curve of his arse defined against a back light. My cock twitches as he arches again and twists, all of that tight arse coming into view just as the video stops. The thirty seconds are up. That’s a fucking clever bit of editing as I’m committing my credits before I’ve even thought about it, wanting to see more. I glance at the account name as the credits are confirmed. LegacyinLace. I only briefly register it as interesting as the video starts again from the beginning, and my cock is already on board with this idea. I unzip my fly and release the strain in my jeans across my crotch, wrapping my hand round my cock as I watch the screen. As I start long slow strokes along my length, taking my time and enjoying the sensation, I get a flashback of another lithe body whose creamy skin I caught a glimpse of.
Kai! Fuck! No!
Lusting after my boss is not going to happen. I almost stop at the similarities between my memory and what I can see on screen, but my brain, obviously devoid of any blood by now and unable to think properly, rationalises that it’s better to get these thoughts of my system here, in my home, harmlessly in front of a video rather than thinking about the actual earl. Way to go, brain. But I’m already hard and leaking precum, so there’s no way I can stop. My hand moves faster as the guy finally shows his beautiful arse, running his hands over it. He doesn’t go any further, though, much to my disappointment, but instead rolls over. He kneels up and rubs the light fabric along his cock, making a show of wrapping it up, never quite revealing all of himself. It’s more tantalising than if he were full frontal. He strokes his cock with his hand, the fabric dropping away just enough for me to catch sight of the tip. My balls tighten, the anticipation too much for me, and I come with a desperategrunt, spilling over my hand. I flick my eyes back to the screen, but the video has finished, and he doesn’t reveal anymore of himself, nor has he shown his face, the fucking mysterious tease. But I know I’m hooked and I’ll be back for more.
I quickly get undressed, get cleaned up, and fall into bed. As I drift off, the only thought running through my head is that the idea of getting this out of my system was way off. I’ve fucked up.
