Page 29 of The Tourist

“Oh, fuck. Ricky.”

He chuckledsoftly, his breath stirring the hairs at my nape, and he pushed meharder against the wall. The nondescript pattern of the wallpaperblurred as it met my nose, and I turned my head so I could rest mycheek. I could see the upper edge of the window frame out of thecorner of my eye, and the reflected glint from the sun on the sea.I could hear myself panting.

“Ricky,I—”

“Shut up.”His voice was husky, with an edge to it I’d never heard before.“Unless you don’t like it.”

“I do.” Hislips were at the junction of my neck and shoulder, his teethnipping at the skin. “Fucking hell, I do.”

He shiftedbehind me for a moment, one hand always on my back as a tokenrestraint. He tugged at my T-shirt. “Take this off.”

I tensed. Iheard a diesel cab ticking over outside and someone calling,laughing. Our room was on the second floor, and I didn’t thinkanyone on the promenade could see us unless they made a specificeffort to look up, but even so… “You want to take this to thebed?”

He laughed.“Not just yet.” Then his body pressed up against me, his chest atmy shoulder blades, his knees at the back of my calves. While I’dbeen worrying about voyeurs, he’d stripped off his clothes. Now Ifelt the warmth of bare skin, his cock filling slowly with desire,heavy with promise against my arse. I reached behind me awkwardlyand pulled my shirt off over my head. Ricky’s hand returned to myback, but this time as skin to skin. When he slid his other handback into my sweats, I shivered with excitement. My cock wasstraining against the fabric in front, the muscles of my thighstight with anticipation. I crossed my arms, rested them on the wallin front of me and leant my head against my forearm. My brow wasdamp, the pulse in my wrists fierce.

Ricky pushedmy sweats to the floor and I stepped out of them. But I didn’t turnaround, or even straighten back up. “What do you want?”

He hesitated.His breath was ragged. “You like this? You wanted me… you asked,once. Didn’t you?”

I nodded asbest I could with my head down. I wanted to express my eagerness,every part of my body offering submission. The cooler air of theroom brushed softly against my warm buttocks. I couldn’t see Rickyproperly, I could only feel his possessive hand on me, sense hisnaked hunger matching mine. I didn’t know where he might touch menext, what he might do.

The suspensewas exquisite.

“Hesaid…”

No.

“He said youjust wanted to fuck me. That’s all I was to you.”

I felt myfingers curl into a fist against the wall. “But you don’t believethat?”

I heard hisbreath catch. “I did. But… you’re not like that.” He wasn’tquestioning me. His tone was awed, as if he’d just worked somethingout for himself.

“I want you to be yourself. That’s all.” I shrugged. “We workit out between us. Make it work for both of us.”I loved him. “Partners.That’s what I want.”

“Me too,” hewhispered.

My heartbeatwondered whether to slow down with relief or speed up withexcitement. As if I had any control over it at all. I wriggled myarse. “So how about…?”

He huffed, asif laughing under his breath. His fingers slipped down between mycheeks, confident and already wet with some kind of lubrication.They circled the sensitive skin, teasing at the opening, nudging afingertip just inside. I shuddered and groaned. My muscles tensedthen relaxed; my head dropped down farther. When his finger slippedinto me, the pleasure rippled through every nerve. My back archedand I think I swore—I definitely wasn’t thinkingstraight.

Ricky suckedin a breath and slid in a second finger, his excitement making himrough. I didn’t care. The tip of one finger was crooked and brushedat the spot deep inside me that made every muscle ache withwant.

“You need thebed?” His voice was just above a whisper.

“Not justyet,” I mimicked him, but fondly.

I could hearthe smile in his voice. “Move back a foot or so, then. We can do itright here. How does that sound?”

Did he expectme to answer that coherently? I made some kind of strangled moanthat I hoped he took as a hell, yeah. And please. I took a couple of stepsback, arching my back, my hands still on the wall.

“Stop.” Hisvoice was firm but breathy. “Don’t move from there.”

He ran hishand up my arm to my shoulder and then my nape. He grasped metight, holding me in place—not that I was looking to run away. Heleant in and pressed a kiss to my neck. “I want to do this,Dan.”

“You hear mearguing?” It was a stupid joke, but I heard him chuckle.

“It’s been… Ihaven’t done it for a long time. I didn’t think you reallywanted…”