Chapter 14
Darius
“Fuck.” I rest my forehead against the tiles, my hand working my cock, as hot water cascades down my shoulders.
There’s an image behind my closed lids – Oliver, his brown eyes shining, his cheeks flushed, his cock in his hand as he looks at me with a piercing gaze.
I feel it like a caress over my entire body.
My chest heaves on an inhale, pleasure coursing through my veins as my orgasm crests, my cock pulsing, cum coating the shower wall and leaving me weak at the knees.
Leaning against the wall to steady myself, I open my eyes, turning to let the spray wash over my face.
This isn’t the first morning I’ve woken up hard with thoughts of Oliver running through my mind. It’s been over a month since that day at the beach and ever since, the spark of attraction I’d felt towards him has done nothing but grow into a continual current of need in my blood.
I’ve known I was demisexual since I first heard the term and read what it meant.
Like a lightbulb moment, I knew instantly that it suited me.
I’d seen friends overcome with attraction to someone the moment they met, but that never happened to me, and for so long, I wondered why.
I still engaged in random hookups occasionally, taken strangers home to my bed, and while the act itself was enjoyable enough – I liked the closeness and the intimacy – I often left the encounter feeling like something was missing.
The only time that was ever different was with the guy I’d dated in high school.
We’d been friends for years before we were boyfriends and I’d loved him.
He was my first, and sex with him had been better than all the randoms I was with as I got older.
I’d desired him in a way I hadn’t felt since.
Not until now. Until Oliver.
We haven’t seen each other in nearly three weeks, and the distance causes a physical ache in my chest, one that only lessens when I hear his voice.
Shortly after we returned from Devon, Oliver’s boss, Zander, offered him a job assisting him with an installation at a villa in the south of France.
Zander recently bought the place to renovate and wanted Oliver to help with the carpentry.
The excitement on Oliver’s face when he told me is something I won’t forget – it was the first time since I met him that he looked genuinely free of all the shit he’d been carrying for so long.
I know as well as he does, it’s not as simple as closing the door on years long abuse, but doing this, choosing himself again, is a start.
But fuck do I miss him.
Once I’m out of the shower, I trudge through to my lounge, startling when I find Darcey on my sofa, her legs up on the coffee table and a bowl of cereal in her hand. She’s had a key and all the access codes to my place since I bought it four years ago, and regularly makes unannounced visits.
“Finished jacking off?” she jokes, and heat floods my cheeks. There’s no way she knew what I was doing in the shower, but my blush certainly gives me away.
“I wasn’t…fuck off, Dars, what are you doing here?”
She chuckles, popping a spoon of cereal in her mouth. “You have the good stuff.”
Sitting next to her, I snatch the bowl from her hand. “And you are a grown woman who can buy your own cereal.” I scoop Coco Pops into my mouth, enjoying the sweetness of the chocolate for a moment before she grabs the bowl back from me with a scowl.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She lifts the bowl to her mouth, drinks the leftover milk, and then places it on the coffee table. “I thought we could go shopping for our Halloween costumes today. You’re still coming, right?”
I nod.
“Good. Are you bringing anyone to the party?”
“Nope. Just me.” I had invited Oliver to the party Darcey’s company is throwing at a nightclub in Central London, but he isn’t due back in the UK until mid November, and I also get this sense that he’s nervous about meeting my friends.
Not that he’s said as much, but there’s a hesitancy in him every time the topic comes up.
“What about that grumpy guy – the one who tried to steal my spot as best friend?”
I narrow my eyes at Darcey, raising an eyebrow. “You know his name is Caiden, Dars.”
She shrugs. “Sure. Him. You don’t want to invite him along?” For all her pretending to be mad about mine and Caiden’s friendship, the two of them actually get on pretty well, and I know her jealousy is nothing but a running joke.
It makes me wonder how both Caiden and Darcey will take my friendship with Oliver.
It won’t mean much to Darcey. She’s more of a people person than I am, so I have no doubt she’ll welcome him into the fold with no issue.
Caiden though, I’m not so sure. I know I should have told him ages ago that not only is his once-upon-a-time-fuck-buddy my friend, but that I have very strong feelings for the guy.
But the longer I keep the secret, the harder it’s becoming to tell him.
“No, he has plans with his boyfriend. Afraid, it’s just me.” Darcey throws her arms around my shoulders, planting a wet kiss on my cheek. Wrinkling my nose, I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
“Good. I don’t have to share you then.”
“I have enough love for all of you. Now, what’s the gossip?”
“Finch has a boyfriend.”
“Wow, I thought he was still hung up on that art dealer? Have you met the new guy?”
Darcey shakes her head then flips her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “No. He’s been keeping the relationship secret. I only know because the guy called when I was over at Finch's last weekend. The lovesick grin on his face gave him away. He asked me not to tell anyone.”
“And yet…” I wave a hand in front of my chest.
“He said I could tell you. He meant not to tell anyone else.”
“Finch knows better than to let ‘Darcey Big Mouth’ in on a secret.” Darcey slaps my arm playfully, scowling at the nickname we gave her back in high school when we first realised she was incapable of keeping anything to herself.
“But good for him. That art dude was a dick.”
“True story.” Darcey drops her feet from the table. “You know what we need? Champagne. Want to get breakfast before we go shopping?”
From chocolate cereal to champagne in less than twenty minutes, she’s a woman after my own heart.
We chat for a while longer, before Darcey orders a ride share and we head to our favourite brunch spot a few blocks over from Oxford Street.
When we’re finished, Darcey drags me from boutique to boutique in search of the perfect Halloween costume.
I find two I like and can’t decide between them, so I buy both with a plan to try them on again later.
Darcey and I stop for a quick bite to eat, after which we say our goodbyes and go our separate ways.
Back in my apartment, I hit play on my favourite playlist, then, stripping out of my clothes, I slide into the first of the two costumes I picked out.
I’m standing in front of my floor to ceiling mirror, admiring the way the harness fits over my chest, when my phone rings from where it’s lying face up on my bed. My heart skips a beat when I see it’s Oliver and I hastily answer the video call, lifting the phone so he can only see my face.
“Hey, you,” I say once the call has connected.
He’s standing in what looks to be an office or library, with a large bookshelf in the background.
I know from photos he sent earlier in the week that it’s one he’s built.
A ray of sunlight shines in from somewhere behind him, bathing him in an ethereal glow that seems to brighten as his smile widens.
“Hi. What are you up to?”
I perch on the edge of my bed, the tight leather shorts riding up into the crease of my legs when I do.
“Darcey and I went shopping for our Halloween costumes and now I’m home trying on the two I bought – deciding which I like more.
I may go down to the pool after. What about you?
How was your day?” Sunlight catches on dust motes as Oliver walks through the room.
His screen blurs, his body covering the camera as he sets it down, then moves back to sit on a plastic covered sofa.
I can see all of him now. His baby blue tee is sleeveless, with sweat marks around the neckline, and he has on beige cargo shorts.
His hair is a mess of sweaty curls that he’s swept back off his forehead with a band.
I look a little closer, grinning when I realise it’s my headband – one I bought at a market stall the weekend before he left for France.
It’s white with tiny penguins printed on it.
“My day was fine. Zander told us to down tools early. The weather is good, and he’s planning to crack out the barbeque, but I may just go back to my room. I’m not really hungry.”
There’s five of them working on the villa for various durations and Zander is treating them like a little family, with days out to explore the area and meals together, but this isn’t the first time Oliver has implied he’s skipping the evening meal.
“You should join them,” I suggest. “It sounds fun, and you may be hungry later.” I want to ask him what he’s eaten today, if he’s eaten an actual meal or if he’s survived the day on energy drinks and protein bars like he so often does, but it’s not my place to interrogate him.
And that’s exactly how he’ll take it – food being the one topic that seems to be a no go area of discussion.
Oliver looks down at his hand, where he’s scratching it against a spot on his leg, where the hem of his shorts ends.
“Maybe.”
“Think about it, okay? They’re your friends. You deserve to have a little fun.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
The thing is, I do. I worry about the way he alienates himself from everyone but me. I love being the person Oliver trusts enough to be himself with. I hope I’m always that for him, but he could do with more people in his corner.
Oliver adjusts himself on his seat, leaning forward so his elbows are resting on his knees.