Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Harry
My pulse takes an inordinately lengthy time to settle from the most erotic, intense experience of my life.
Toby, his face flushed in the firelight, is slumped against me right now, a lazy, slightly dreamy smile on his face. I can’t help running my hand through his curls. My hand snags a little—which I guess is understandable as we’ve been quite a few days bereft of a comb—but Toby doesn’t seem to mind.
My need to touch Toby right now alarms me.
I have to clear my throat twice before I can speak. “So. That happened again.”
I’m expecting Toby to mock me. After all, I was the one who insisted the last time be a singular occurrence.
Then I’m the one who proceeded to kiss him again.
Toby glances up at me with those beautiful eyes reflecting the flames. “I told you before. It’s a necessity.”
“You actually believe that?” I ask skeptically.
He shrugs as he pulls away from me. “I personally count sex as another life necessity. And out here, it’s either with each other or hunting down a cooperative bear.”
“You’re possibly slightly less likely to maul me than a large carnivorous mammal,” I say.
His grin seems almost prised out of him. “Only slightly.”
Seeing Toby’s lips wrapped around my cock was a surreal experience. That infuriating mouth, which sometimes makes me angrier than I think it’s possible to be, bringing me mind-blowing pleasure.
I try to clear my throat again, but my voice sounds raspier than usual as I force out my next words. “So, we’re going to continue this?”
Toby stares at me for a few heartbeats before he gives another casual shrug.
“It’s probably a healthy way to relieve some of the…tension between us, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
I stare at him, his words echoing in my head.
It doesn’t have to be a big deal.
Me, the leader of the Conservative Party, engaging in sexual encounters with a Labour MP, a male Labour MP at that, would normally be an immensely big deal. It’s basically the first chapter in How to Irreparably Damage Your Political Career.
However, there isn’t exactly a profusion of tabloid reporters out here to catch us.
But scandals don’t need to make the tabloids to ruin careers. I know that all too well.
One of the most vivid memories of my teenage years is walking in just as my father was finishing a phone call.
“Yes. I understand. Thank you for letting me know,” he’d said.
Then he’d dropped the phone, clutching the edge of the kitchen bench like he needed it for support, his shoulders hunched.
I’d stepped forward. “What happened?”
My father looked up at me, his eyes devoid of their usual life.
“That was the chairperson of the Conservative Party. He’s no longer supporting my leadership bid.”
I had never seen my father so defeated.
Years later, I caught whiffs of what had spooked my father’s supporters. There’d been rumors about my father having a mistress in London. The last thing the Conservative Party needed was another sex scandal.
I’ve never asked him whether or not the rumors were true. I don’t want to know.
But with Toby and me, when we make it back to civilization, the only way anyone would find out about us would be if Toby divulged the information.
“This has to remain between us,” I say.
Toby makes an exaggerated show of looking around the clearing. “But there are so many people around here to tell. Actually, those wolves did remind me of reporters. Do you think one of them works for The Daily Chronicle?”
“Very funny.”
“Harry, even if there were people to tell, I’m sorry to say that me being desperate enough to sleep with you isn’t something I would share to enhance my reputation.”
I believe him. I can’t imagine detailing sexual encounters with the Conservative leader would help his political ambitions in any way.
Besides, I’ve already had two sexual encounters with Toby. I’ve engaged in enough scandalous behavior to generate a front-page headline. The rule book has definitely been well and truly torn up.
However, there’s another reason I potentially shouldn’t do this again with Toby.
I’ve always found Toby attractive, and I have other complicated emotions simmering under my animosity towards him. Something I have never wanted to scrutinize too closely. Being intimate with him can only amplify those feelings.
But I’ve already failed twice in trying to keep my distance. I have to concede I don’t have the willpower to spend twenty-four hours a day with Toby Webley in such close proximity and not succumb to my desire for him. At least this way, I can exert some semblance of control.
“All right, I believe you won’t talk about it. So, we just have the agreement that any time we’re both in the mood, we continue this.”
“It may help to pass the time while we wait for the wolves to come back or for us to starve to death or succumb to hypothermia.”
“That’s an optimistic view of our future,” I say.
“Well, you know me, Harry. Always looking on the bright side of life. I’m practically a walking, talking motivational poster.”
I study Toby’s face closely, observing the way his eyebrows knit together and his eyes dart away, betraying a hint of uncertainty under his confident smirk.
“You know, I might be messed up from my boarding school experience and unable to show emotion, but you deflect from your feelings using humor,” I say.
Toby’s face twists in a spasm of emotions.
“Sometimes humor is the easier option,” he says finally.
We just stare at each other.
“Fuck. There’s nowhere to hide out here, is there?” Toby asks, his eyes slightly wild.
“No,” I reply softly. “There’s nowhere to hide.”
I understand what he means. In our normal life, we can hide the parts of ourselves we don’t want others to scrutinize.
But it’s almost impossible out here. It’s just the two of us in situations far outside our comfort zones.
I haven’t been able to hide my attraction to Toby. He hasn’t been able to hide his fear from me.
Toby rakes his hand through his hair.
“I thought I was quite skilled at handling myself in stressful situations, but being out here has made a mockery of that,” Toby says, his voice low.
“It makes me realize I treated many of the situations as chief of staff as an intellectual challenge, like they were a game I had to win. But everything keeps reminding me it’s not a game out here. ”
“This is definitely not a game. It’s very, very real,” I say.
Our eyes lock, and I can see the raw emotion on his face.
“It’s good to know you feel like that too,” he says.
I hadn’t thought about how keeping my emotions under control had affected Toby. He’s said he feels lonely like he’s the only one struggling.
Toby and I are so intertwined right now. My survival and his survival are irrevocably linked.
“Trust me, I’m never losing sight of the stakes in this,” I say quietly.
“If we’re going to survive out here and make it home, we need to talk to each other more,” Toby says.
“You need to tell me how you’re feeling.
If your feet are sore, I need to know. If you’re hungry, I need to know.
None of this stiff-upper-lip nonsense. There’s only one part of you I’m interested in seeing stiff, and it’s not your upper lip. ”
“The same goes for you,” I reply.
“What, there’s only one part of me you’re interested in seeing stiff?” Toby asks with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “No. I need to know how you’re feeling. You can’t try to evade everything with humor. You need to be honest.”
Toby’s smirk fades and he shifts uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck before he meets my gaze.
“Harry Matheson and Toby Webley, the unfiltered, unfettered versions. It’s going to be an interesting experience,” he says.
“It’s definitely going to be something,” I agree.
Toby continues to stare at me, and I grow…discomfited having those eyes on me because I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know how our conversations are affecting his view of me, whether he’s reassessing his opinion as he gets to know who I really am.
It was fine to cope with Toby’s disgust and animosity when he was simply an opposition MP who only saw my facade. But if he continues to dislike me, even when we’re intimate with each other, when he’s getting to know me as a real person…
“It’s going to be morning soon. You should try to get some rest,” I say, turning my face away from his scrutiny.