He turns and looks at me, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I search his face for some resemblance to Jez. I find it in his cheekbones and the wave of his hair, but that’s it. He looks almost fey in the garden’s shadows, his sharp features blurred by the moonlight. Then he blinks, and he’s back to the snarky boy I met a few hours ago.
“Anyway,” he says. “He’s got no intention of ever meeting again. I doubt he’d even be here if you hadn’t come along too.”
“Then I’m glad I did,” I say softly.
“Me too.”
“You okay?”
He looks at me, surprised. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Not disappointed?” I’m not inclined to sugarcoat things.
“Nope. I didn’t have any expectations, which is a good way to be.”
He’s so cynical. “Is it?”
“I think Jez doesn’t like anything that inconveniences him or holds a mirror up to him. I’m both of those things.”
The sharpness of his perception is startling. Jez can usually charm his way out of most situations, but he’s sadly failing with this boy of his.
“Well,” I say. “We’re here for a few days. Maybe you’re wrong, and the two of you can reach an accord.”
“We’re not Switzerland.” He deliberately moves his hand so it covers mine on the bench. His skin is as soft as silk. “Although there might be benefits to staying in the same hotel as you.”
“Uh, no. No, definitely not.” I take his hand and set it on his lap. “Keep that there.”
He laughs. “Oh, dear. Scared you might be tempted again by little old me?”
“Of course not.” I sincerely hope the emphatic statement is firm enough, because the truth is, Iamafraid of that. Already, I can feel this pull towards him, this desire to touch him.
He leans in and whispers into my ear. “You’re a liar, Reuben Langley.”
I make the mistake of turning to him. My mouth is open to say something harsh, but the words die away when I realise how close he is to me. His eyes seem to reflect the starlight, and I feel dizzy.
“Reuben,” he says, tilting his head.
I forget everything. I forget that he’s so much younger than me, and Jez’s son. I forget my own sense of honour, which has guided me along every step of my life. Instead, I lean in and fit my lips to his.
His lips are soft and full, and I can taste the gin on them from his drink at dinner. It’s a sharp, cool taste, and I push my tongue into his mouth, searching for more.
One of us groans. I honestly don’t know whether it’s him or me, but it’s way too loud in this quiet garden. I pull away, putting my hand over his face and pushing him gently back when he tries to chase my lips.
“We’ll get caught if we keep on with this,” I whisper.
His eyes had been heavy-lidded and dreamy, but now they float up to mine, and the seemingly ever-present spark of humour is there. “And the problem is?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. This is a mistake and—ouch!” I jerk as he scrambles up and sets himself neatly in my lap, straddling me so his long legs wrap around my hips. The position puts our cocks together, and as hard as I try, I can’t stop my hands from rising and fastening around his small waist. My body is acting very independently of my brain today. “What are you doing?” I protest.
He smirks. “I would think it’s very obvious, Reuben. I am opening an account with the Post Office. Where are the stamps, please?” I open my mouth, and he slaps his hand over my lips. “No, don’t speak. You’ll just talk sense, and then where will we be?”
I raise my eyebrows.
He chuckles. “We’ll be behaving sensibly, and it will all be very boring and regrettable.”
He removes his hand, and I say evenly, “Oh, am I allowed to talk now?”
He grimaces. “Is it going to be a diatribe about how dreadful you feel, and you can’t take advantage of me?” I press my lips together, and he laughs. “Thought so.”
