Nikolas stopped with his hand on Radulf’s lead.“Windmills.Yes, that’s right, Benjamin.Don’t forget the clogs and the tulips.”
Ben jiggled the keys in his hand.“What are you going to tell Squeezy and whatshisname?”
“Tim.His name is Tim Watson, and he’s your friend.”
“Tim then.What are you going to tell them about…?”
“Us?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t want them to know we’ve slept together?”
Ben had only known Nikolas Mikkelsen for a few days, but he understood the undercurrent of that question and thought hard for a moment.
“Uh-huh.Forget I said that.They already do.”
Nikolas rubbed Ben’s hair then seized him in a surprisingly strong arm lock and knuckle rubbed him hard, apparently just because he could.
* * *
Occasionally, Nikolas caught himself not missing his Ben in favour of this new one.
The drive to London, however, was not one of those times.
They were incompatible in most things they thought and did or liked, but over the years Ben had become content to accept Nikolas had his way in everything—which, actually, of course, then made them extremely compatible.
That wasoldBen, of course—the Ben who’d been introduced to Nikolas as Sir Nikolas, and who’d worked for him for many years, always aware of his background, his wealth, his power, his status and rank.This Ben knew nothing of any of that.Perhaps he just saw an older man who was clearly lying about what he’d done in the past, who had more money than sense, and who bought him very nice presents.Like houses.And was fuckingly good in bed.Nikolas hid a private smirk at this thought, remembering Ben’s expression as he’d been introduced, from Ben’s perspective, to the joys of man on man sex.
But this Ben didn’t see why, ashewas driving, he shouldn’t havehismusic on…Radio 1.
Nikolas knew what modern music was; he just didn’t want to experience it.Like scat—it was just something he’d never been tempted to try.He flicked to Radio 4.Dear Leader was being questioned about the situation in the Ukraine.This should be amusing.He doubted Dear Leader could put his finger onto the Ukraine on a map.
Ben sneered, “Fuck this,” and changed it back, tapping the wheel along to something that sounded like slob on my knob by the sick Mafia, which Nikolas supposed he must have misheard.His English didn’t stretch to the American version of the language.
“Turn it back, Benjamin.”
“Fuck you!I’mdriving!Driver’s rules—or do you have some freaky Russian version of that?”
Nikolas didn’t know where to begin.It was like your chauffeur answering you back.He had his mouth open to remonstrate, when Ben continued,
“And don’t give me all thatdon’t swear at meshit.”His accent, mimicking Nikolas’s mangled vowels, was so good Nikolas had to laugh.
“Yeah, I don’t know what kinda pussy I’ve become in the last ten years, but there’s no way I’d letyoubossmeabout.”He wrinkled his brow.“In fact, what’s the bloody point of fucking a bloke if you don’t get tonothave all the bloody nagging girls do all the time?”
“Being gay does have its advantages.”Ben thought he was going to win an argument?He had no idea what he’d begun.“Watch the road.”
Ben snatched his eyes back to the front and turned off the music.“I amnotgay.”
Nikolas shook his head, agreeing sadly,
“Iknow that, of course.Men wear dresses for many reasons now, and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re—”
“What!”
“Eyes?Road?I don’t mind when you do it, honestly—I find it strange, and wouldn’t want to myself, especially when paired with stubble, but it doesn’t bother me.I told you this the other night!Didn’t I?”
“Me?Wearing fucking dresses?”
