Chapter 8 #2
Since I came through the back entrance of the building, avoiding the shop itself and the back storerooms, I can go straight up to my flat.
Flicking on the lights as I head up the staircase, I’m grateful that the power outage doesn’t seem to have affected my part of Islington.
It looks to have spread quite far though; I saw many dark streets and houses on the drive back as I stared out of the window, trying desperately not to inhale the delicious scent of the man next to me and all crowded up in my personal bubble.
Not that he’d done it on purpose. Sam just seems to have a presence that fills the space all around him.
Shaking my head, I try to push him from my mind.
After I slip off my jacket and hang it over the corner of my lounge door so it can dry, I head into the bedroom.
Making sure to set my phone on the dresser, I then strip off and shiver as I put my clothes into the wash basket and head into the bathroom completely naked.
Thankfully, the water doesn’t take long to heat, and soon enough I can step under the spray.
My body immediately stops shaking and begins to warm up.
I don’t know how it’s possible to feel both exhausted and energised at the same time.
Every inch of my skin prickles and magic thrums through my veins in time to my heartbeat.
It’s almost as if the storm is feeding my power.
My cock aches and throbs, and when I look down, I’m surprised to see I have an erection.
A rather persistent one. It’s not like it’s never happened to me before.
I had them during the course of puberty, but as I settled into my twenties, I just didn’t have that rampant sexual drive others my age had—or any sexual drive at all.
I’ve long since accepted that maybe I just wasn’t built that way.
A flush of heat runs over my skin and a need forms deep inside me. This isn’t just an automatic bodily reaction, I’m—
Bloody hell. I’m really horny.
Reaching down, I squeeze my cock and moan.
Fuck, I haven’t felt this way in nearly a decade.
Guess I’m not exactly ace then. Not really demi either.
I don’t even know what that makes me, other than an awkward virgin.
All I do know is that my dick’s hard and my mind’s filled with images of a dark-haired man with a sexy smile and a scarred face.
I’m going to hate myself for this, but the need is almost painful.
Pouring a little of my body wash into my hand, I grip my cock and groan loudly as I stroke.
The sound echoes off the tiles in the small, confined space, but I pay no attention.
I grip tighter and set an unforgiving pace.
There’s no slow teasing, there’s no savouring the moment, there’s only a desperate desire to come as quickly and as hard as I can.
I try to focus on the act and the pleasure itself, but memories of that smile, those eyes, that laser attention and the feel of his hard body beneath me as we tumbled to the ground are burned into my mind.
I stagger forward a small step, bracing one hand on the tiled wall while my other hand shuttles my aching cock through my tight grip.
Ungodly noises slip from my lips, and I don’t even try to keep quiet. There’s no one to hear me anyway.
My balls tighten and I can’t quite catch my breath when my orgasm rips from me. I cry out, stripes of my cum streaking the wall as I unload pulse after pulse.
Holy shit, that was intense.
I can’t remember an orgasm ever feeling quite like that.
Mind you, it’s been so long I’ve probably forgotten.
Releasing my softening dick, I stare at the evidence of what I just did smeared across the wall.
Shame and embarrassment wash over me. I’ve just masturbated and made myself come over thoughts of Sam. A complete stranger. How pathetic am I?
I lift my hand to rub my tired eyes, stopping at the last moment when I realise part of the evidence of my orgasm is also all over my fingers.
I swallow tightly, then wash my hands, my body, and hair, finally rinsing off the wall before I shut the water off and climb out.
Snagging the towel from the rail, I dry off quickly and wrap it around my hips before I wander back into my bedroom.
I’m heading for the dresser to grab some clean pyjama pants and a T-shirt when I notice my phone light up with several notifications.
Picking it up I swipe the screen and see that I have two text messages, one from Tristan and one from Dad.
Dropping down on the end of my bed, I check the one from Tristan first. It’s a voice note and underneath it is a message with an address in Hackney.
I tap the play icon on the screen and listen as a loud sneeze echoes through my room, followed by Tristan’s voice, which sounds a little gravelly.
“Sorry about that.” I hear him sniff. “I don’t know if you’re in bed or making yourself something to eat as we never actually got to have dinner, but I just wanted to say sorry about tonight.
I mean, not about the storm, although, yes, I am sorry about the storm.
It seems to have knocked out power to half of London.
Danny and I are currently eating dinner by candlelight, which is not as romantic as you might think considering I keep extinguishing the flame and plunging us into darkness every time I sneeze.
I bet Henrietta has given me her bloody cold. ”
I wonder briefly who Henrietta is, then realise she must be someone he works with as he continues to ramble along, his phone recording his meandering thoughts as he strays further and further from whatever point he wants to make. If he has one.
“I told her to go home this afternoon before she gives anyone her germs, but she just said the only person she’d been around was Mr Parsons and he was dead.
And by that, I mean literally dead, as in a dead body, not a ghost, in case you were wondering.
You’ve probably already gathered I’m a medium, but I’m also a pathologist. I work at the Hackney Public Mortuary. Anyway. What was I saying?”
I hear Danny’s muffled voice in the background, and I can’t help the chuckle that rumbles from my chest.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry, not that I caused the storm, because obviously I didn’t.
But because– well I’m not sure exactly what happened tonight, but you seemed really freaked out.
I get the impression you maybe don’t do well around a lot of people.
Maybe it was too much in a crowded restaurant in the middle of the storm, then the power cutting off.
Oh, and us springing Sam on you. Although that one was Danny’s fault. ”
“Sorry, ” a rumbly northern accent calls faintly in the background.
“But what I really wanted to say was that I do very much want us to be friends. Maybe we could start smaller. I’ve messaged my address to you.
If you want, you could come over for a coffee.
I mean, our flat is like a leaky boat at the moment because the landlord won’t fix the roof, and we also have a chubby and very grumpy cat who will either sit on you and refuse to move like you’re his own personal pillow or he’ll totally ignore you like you’ve been dragged in on the bottom of Danny’s shoe.
And I say Danny’s because Danny is Jacob Marley’s prince, and the rest of us are all peasants. ”
I pull the phone away and check the timestamp on the voice note, wondering how much longer he’s going to ramble for.
“Babe, you should probably wrap it up now,” Danny’s voice murmurs.
“Okay, okay,” Tristan agrees hurriedly. “I’ve got to go. Danny’s getting naked and you know naked skin-to-skin contact is the best way to avoid hypothermia when getting caught in the rain.”
“Tris, we’ve been in for over an hour. I don’t think you’re in any danger of hypothermia.” Danny chuckles, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth.
“Better safe than sorry,” Tristan answers piously. “Anyway, Harrison. Message me tomorrow so I know you’re okay, and if you want to come over, you’re more than welcome.”
There’s another loud sneeze.
“You’re so sexy right now,” Danny teases Tristan, who probably has a very red nose, judging by all the sneezing going on. I hear Tristan yelp and then giggle as the voice note ends.
I shake my head, but there’s still a smile hovering on my lips. Maybe Tristan is someone I could be friends with, but I’ll have to give it some more thought.
Closing the message stream, I click on the one from Dad.
Hey, sweetheart, I found the tarot deck I was looking for, it was in the laundry room.
Can’t imagine how it ended up in there. I did a spread, and it was a bit ambiguous, which is unusual.
I’ve always found this deck to be really accurate.
But the one thing that was very clear is that a herald of change is coming.
A lot of the cards were reversed, which you know isn’t always a good sign.
The other thing I managed to pick up on is that there is a stranger who is going to lead you to a path that can go two ways, into enlightenment or into shadow.
I’m trying really hard not to drive straight down to London and put you in the car and make you come home where you’ll be safe, but I know I can’t.
Whatever the path is, it’s yours to walk.
I can’t promise I won’t have a few little meltdowns along the way, but I’m right there behind you every step of the way.
Pop and I both are. Just…be careful and let us know you’re okay.
I tap out a quick reply. I’m okay.
But as another loud boom of thunder practically shakes the building, my magic shifts restlessly under my skin.
I don’t think I am okay… I don’t think I’m okay at all.