John-Francis laughed. “Haven’t we all? What’d ya be gettin’ up ta?”
“The usual, eh? Darragh went through a phase o’ dealin’ green, but it was more trouble than it was worth a lotta the time, now. Ma sometimes breeds wee dogs if we can find a decent bitch an’ stud.” I cleared my throat. “I’d, uh, I’d be pretty good wi’ jimmyin’ me way inta a car or two, like.”
“Cars? Ya a wee bad boy, eh?” John-Francis teased.
I simply frowned, treating him to a withering glare as my cheeks flushed. “I do a’right, now. What ‘bout yourself?”
“Declan an’ I have a wee landscapin’ gig, but I don’t mind tellin’ ya that we often find other ways ta bring in the money, ‘specially durin’ the winter, like.”
I nodded. “Anythin’ interestin’?”
“Ah, f’sure – mostly hittin’ up shops an’ resellin’, but Declan’s pretty handy in a fight, so we’ve done our fair share o’ roughin’ up fellas as well. Used ta be inta the drugs scene a wee while back, but like yourself, it was a lotta trouble, like.”
“Aye, wondered if ya were still in the game when ya’d given me that hit the night we met, now.”
John-Francis shook his head. “Nah, haven’t been f’some time. Seamus is ya fella f’all that ‘round here, like. He’d be holdin’ a wee variety if ya ever lookin’ ta buy.”
“It’s not f’me generally, aye.” I caught his eye. “Only when feckin’ rides like yourself be offerin’ it up, like.”
He didn’t reply, just grinned and playfully checked me with his shoulder. A gust of wind whipped around us, and we both glanced up into the sky.
“Looks like rain, aye?” John-Francis muttered.
“I’d be thinkin’ the same thing, now. Hope we can get back without gettin’ a soakin’.”
“Best get a move on. C’mon, fella.”
We missed the rain by minutes, diving inside John-Francis’s caravan just as the first, huge droplets began to fall. I was on my back beneath John-Francis, pinned to his bed by yet another scorching kiss when the heavens opened. The din against the metal roof was so loud it drowned everything out. It was just me, John-Francis, and the rain.
Just as before, John-Francis kissed me like he’d die if he didn’t and I couldn’t get enough. I’d never had such a passionate, all-consuming, utterly addictive kiss in all my life. It may have been a bit rocky getting started, but if John-Francis’s kisses were always going to be like this? Hell, it had been worth the wait. When his hand found my throat, I couldn’t help but smile, remembering how I’d teased him about it the night before.
“Laugh all y’want,” he muttered between kisses. “Y’love it an’ y’know y’do.”
I had to admit it felt better than I’d expected it to, having someone’s hand around your neck, and John-Francis was a master at being somehow simultaneously tender and domineering. He was right, Ididlove it and I groaned, letting him kiss me harder, holding me in place.
We ground our hips together, both of us desperate for more of one another. I could feel the bulge of John-Francis’s hard cock, even though his jeans and my hands flew to his flies, hurriedly unfastening them.
I hadn’t been expecting the violent buzz of vibration beneath my fingertips and I stilled.
“Sorry, phone,” John-Francis explained, releasing me to sit back on his haunches. He was pink and breathing hard as he dug his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. He glanced at it briefly, his head falling back with a groan.
“What?” I asked, sitting up. “Somethin’ important?”
“Nah, but somethin’ I’d not be gettin’ outta. Declan wants me ta go pick him up from Penrith.”
“Just tell him ya busy, like.”
John-Francis shook his head. “Feckin’ langer is wi’ Seamus, who has helpfully told him I’d not be havin’ anythin’ better ta do tonight than be a feckin’ taxi f’em,” he grumbled, his thumbs flying over his phone screen.
I ran a hand through my hair, the red-hot arousal that had been building easing away. With John-Francis’s attention still fixed on his phone, I shuffled forward on my arse to the edge of the bed.
I startled as John-Francis’s hand flew out and shoved me roughly. I fell backwards, my weight bouncing on the mattress.
“Where’d y’think ya goin’, eh?” he asked, slipping the device back into his pocket.
“Sounds like ya got other plans f’ya evenin’,” I said, trying not to sound as disappointed as I knew I was. “Was just gonna get outta y’hair.”
“Nah.” John-Francis leant in over me to kiss me firmly. “Y’goin’ nowhere. Penrith is twenty minutes, tops. Y’gonna sit y’fine feckin’ arse on this bed until I get back.”
