Chapter Six
The last three visits had all followed a similar pattern to the first two: a terse instruction to undress; the directive to either lie face down or face up; the slow caress of hands all over my body; either a prolonged focus on my nipples or fingering my ass; the culmination of being slowly fucked to orgasm, and the expectation to leave straight away afterward.
I hadn’t discovered anything new about the mystery man and I also hadn’t managed to pull him into anything remotely conversational.
It should have been getting boring. Should, unfortunately being the operative word.
Instead, I looked forward to Tuesday nights.
I told myself it was just about the sexual release…
and the money, of course. But deep down, even I knew that was a lie.
Georgia was getting increasingly worried the longer it went on.
She kept trying to steer me toward dating and had even offered to set up a profile on Grindr.
The fact the visits hadn’t offered any real surprises, made it all the more shocking when I felt the first touch of lips against my stomach.
I tensed, struggling to process the unexpected sensation.
They traveled down slowly, moving over my abdomen and heading toward my cock.
I held my breath, scared I’d do or say something that would change his mind.
As his lips slid down over my hard cock, I let out a loud groan, spreading my thighs eagerly to welcome the lubed finger prying between my ass cheeks.
It slipped easily in, the dual combination of wet suction and a finger rubbing against my prostate bringing me to the brink in no time.
Unthinking, I reached out, trying to communicate that he needed to stop before I came.
For a brief moment, my hand closed around an arm, touching skin. Then all hell broke loose.
The bed creaked, the man scrambling off it at the speed of light.
I lay stunned, trying to work out what had happened.
Finally, it struck me: I’d committed the cardinal sin of touching.
I sat up, peering into the darkness. “Shit! I’m sorry.
I got carried away.” Silence met my apology.
I tried again. “I’m really, really sorry.
I just…forgot. You were using your mouth…
you’ve never done that before…and it felt so good…
and I was going to come…and I knew you’d want to fuck me, because you always have every time before…
and I just didn’t think…and I really am sorry. You can come back here…and—”
“No.”
At least he’d spoken. However, it was difficult to know what to do with the one word that had been virtually spat at me. “Okay, so—”
“Go.”
The word felt like a body blow. “But, you haven’t…”
“I don’t want to. Not anymore.”
“Okay. Sorry.” Christ, I was going to break the world record for the number of apologies given in the space of one minute.
I swung my legs off of the bed and headed for the door, my erection rapidly shrinking.
Clothes held in my arms, I hesitated, feeling like there should be something else I could say.
But apart from providing yet another apology, nothing came to mind.
Actions weighing on me, I went through the usual routine: carrying my clothes downstairs and dressing in the dim light of the lamp.
At the feel of the envelope in my pocket, I hesitated, before removing it from my pocket and placing it back on the table where it had originally started.
With a quick glance of regret toward the room at the top of the stairs, I left.
Georgia slid herself under my duvet. “Are you ever getting up today? It’s nearly eleven.
” I rolled my head sideways on the pillow, giving a baleful look before rolling it back to center to resume my careful scrutiny of the ceiling.
The dog was looking particularly dog-like today.
Something to do with the light, I assumed. “I screwed up, Georgia.”
There was a long hesitation. I had enough time to trace completely around the outline of the dog, twice, with my eyes before she finally answered.
“If this is something to do with your mystery man, then I’m not sure I want to know.”
I knew her views on the subject. She’d made them abundantly clear over the last few weeks. “Fine. Get the hell out of my bed then and leave me to wallow in peace.”
She wriggled closer, close enough I could feel her breath on my neck when she spoke. “What happened?”
I rolled my head sideways again, fully prepared to refuse to say anything if there was even the slightest eye roll or look of derision. I relaxed at the genuine look of concern. “Remember the rules thing I told you about?”
She pulled a face. “No touching, no lights on, no conversation…never feed him after midnight.”
I almost managed a smile at the last comment. “Yeah, well. I broke one of them. I touched him.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Deliberately?”
“No! It was an accident. I got carried away. He was…well, you don’t need to know that. I got carried away.”
“Well, if it was an accident, no big deal, right?”
I sighed. “But, it obviously was a big deal. He freaked out—like majorly. Like a leave immediately freak-out. I think that’s it. I think we’re done. He won’t want me to go there anymore.”
She bit her lip, and I knew what was coming next, even before the sympathetic hand came to rest on my shoulder and the voice softened. “Oh, sweetie. It’s probably for the best. You’re way too attached. It’s obvious it’s no longer about the money. It hasn’t been for a while.”
“That’s not true!” I inwardly winced, recalling the envelope I’d left behind on the table last night. “Anyway, you’re asking the wrong questions. Ask me what I felt when I touched him.”
Her stare said it was the last thing she wanted to do. “What did you feel, Dean?”
“Muscles.”
She sat up suddenly. “Really?”
I made a grab for the duvet to preserve my modesty and nodded. “Whoever this bloody guy is, he’s not old. Not unless, he’s some sort of geriatric bodybuilder.”
Georgia sank slowly back down on the bed, a thoughtful look on her face. “I don’t know what to say.”
I’d been dreading the phone call from Tom all day. When he finally rang after two, I was tempted to let it go to voicemail. Reluctantly, I picked up. “Hi, Tom. I know what you’re going to say.”
“You do? I would hope so. What happened? Are you getting forgetful in your old age?”
“No. It just happened. Maybe you can talk him into trying someone else.” The thought left a strange, queasy sensation in my stomach.
“Trying someone else? Are you quitting?”
“What?” I let the words sink in, trying to make sense out of them. “He called and told you he didn’t want me anymore, right?”
“Not unless the conversation was in code. He called and told me you’d forgotten to take the money. He wanted me to let you know that he’d pay the extra next week.”
“Next week!” I barely heard the rest of the conversation, such was the effect of the relief flooding my body.
Georgia was right. I was in way over my head, obsessed with a man I knew nothing about.
The right thing to do would be to call Tom straight back and tell him I was done with the job.
My finger hovered over the button to call him, before it slid away without making the call.
My brother, Andy, passed over one of the coffees from a nearby kiosk. I thanked him then returned to watching my nephew run around to the steps of the slide. It had to have been his thirtieth go, at the very least.
“Daddy! Uncle Dean. Watch me. See how fast I can go.” We both smiled and waved, offering words of encouragement. Thankfully, it was a pattern we only had to repeat about once every eight slides.
I turned to my brother. “He knows the rest of the playground exists, right?”
Andy took a swig of his coffee before answering. “I made him go on the swings last week. He cried. You can’t separate my boy from his slide.”
“You should get one for the back yard.”
The look he leveled my way was one of complete and absolute horror and disbelief. “I need him to go to bed at night. The longer he thinks slides only exist in the park, the better.” He pointed an accusatory finger in my direction. “And you better not tell him anything else.”
I laughed. “I’ll remember that when I need blackmail material.”
Andy’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t seen you for ages.”
I frowned at him. “I’ve babysat for you three times this week. You saw me then.”
“Exactly, you babysat…when we were going out. So…I haven’t seen you properly to talk to.”
I shrugged, unused to the sudden show of concern. “I’m fine.” He stared at his coffee for just long enough that I knew something was up. His next words confirmed it.
“Not according to Georgia, you’re not.”
I sighed loudly, irritation already taking hold.
“And since when do you have nice cozy chats with Georgia? Does your wife know about that?” I knew it was a low blow trying to insinuate something was going on between him and my best friend, but I had a horrible feeling the conversation was about to head in a direction I really didn’t want it to.
Maybe, if I could annoy him enough, he’d be swayed from going there; decide that it was way too much trouble.
He nudged me, none too gently. It was a good job the coffee had a lid on it.
“Stop trying to deflect. Georgia’s like a sister to me.
A really annoying sister. But a sister nonetheless.
She thinks you’re stretching yourself too thin, what with waiting tables, and the acting auditions, and the escorting.
And yes…she had a real go at me for taking advantage of you and getting you to babysit all the time.
You should have told me you’ve been working all the hours under the sun. ”