Flowers for the Gardener

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  Now he looked around, he should have thought to get movers for Ethan, but he wasn’t sure the other man would have accepted. Rich busy with organising his move, and the sale of the manor, hadn’t helped Ethan load and unload the truck. Not that the man had accepted the offer. If he gave into cynicism, Rich might have thought Ethan wanted nothing to interfere with Rich getting shot of his old life so he could start the new.

  Ethan caught him looking and now appeared as lacking in confidence as Rich felt.

  “Sorry. I’ve made a mess of the place.”

  “Nonsense.” Untrue, but if putting up with a sea of boxes, most of it stuff Ethan still needed to sort through, was the price to have Ethan here, Rich would gladly fill up the house with more. Wouldn’t help to have it in the way if he needed to show any investors around, though. “We’ll get this all stacked away later.”

  The plan was to put the bulk in the storage space above the garage but as there’d been some last minute work going on in there when Ethan first began to move his stuff, Rich had told him to dump it all in the hall, not realising how much Ethan owned compared to Rich. Of course, much of this was inherited, and included his father’s paintings, which Rich had at last viewed and found impressive.

  “I didn’t mean only this lot.” A wave of Ethan’s hand toward the table reminded Rich of all the papers spread out. “I’ve started on the plans. Done some sketches.”

  Though Rich had plans of his own, curiosity won out. He followed Ethan.

  “I don’t know if you’re thinking about water features but…well, with the house being eco-friendly, water-features are good for wildlife.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve picked out three possible placements. I like…” Ethan stepped back and shook his head. His lips twisted to one side when Rich looked over. “Sorry. I was going to say which I like best, but it’s for you to choose.”

  “It’s for us to decide,” Rich insisted, unsurprised when Ethan shrugged the comment off and stayed silent, leaving Rich to study the drawings. The planting blueprints were beyond him—he didn’t know the Latin name for even a single plant—but the layouts were better than he expected. As for the sketches…“These are good. More than good. Excellent. You’re as skilled as your father.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Though the urge to argue was strong, Rich let the subject slide. Ethan spoke from love and respect of a man now gone. This wasn’t a simple case of Ethan putting himself down. Only time and success would show him the truth. “Do you ever paint like your father did?”

  “You mean landscapes and flowers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well…” Ethan gazed off to one side at the boxes. “When I was younger. I’ve not had time in so long. I know some of my work is in there somewhere.”

  Rich made a mental note. If Ethan had skills in other areas, they were ones he wanted to nurture. “Maybe once you’ve sorted through this stuff you can make the space over the garage into a studio. There’s room, and plenty of light.” The area had windows in the roof and was insulated to stay cool in summer but warm enough to keep things dry in winter, and came with an electrical supply so Ethan could have light and heat, if need be.

  A flash of what could only be surprise came into Ethan’s eyes. Though he hesitated, consideration gave him a calculating look and, at last, he nodded.

  Not wanting to congratulate himself on a victory, which Ethan only deserved, Rich took off his coat and laid it over the back of a chair. “So…” He waited until Ethan looked up. “We’re here.”

  Took a few seconds before Ethan replied. “All moved in.”

  “As good as.” Ethan had come along a couple of weeks before, mostly to get out of Ruby’s way. Rich had stayed to sort out the situation back at the family home, though he’d spent every quiet second wondering what would happen between them on the day he moved in. The shock Ethan had agreed to live with him might never wear off.

  Maybe he gave away some of his thoughts…he couldn’t be sure, but Ethan sighed, leaned forward, knuckles turning white as they pressed against the table, and hung his head. Several silent seconds slipped by. “We can tip-toe around each other or I can ask what’s on my mind.” Ethan’s dark gaze flicked up to Rich’s face. “Are you sure?”

  “About?”

  “Us. You. Me. Us. Living here.”

  “Yes. Aren’t you?”

  “No. That is…it’s a big step from sex to involved, to living together in so little time. But…” Ethan glanced again at the boxes. “No one has to tell me life is too short. No one has to remind me of the years we spent where we didn’t know how to be friends, though we both wanted to be. I can’t be arsed to spend months dancing back and forth wondering which nights I’m going to get asked to come back here to your bed. So I guess it makes sense. Plus I’m skint, and going to be working with you…”

  Rich struggled not to wince. Not the romantic reasons he wished to consider for why Ethan accepted the offer to move in with him, but the other man’s lips twitched in what must be wry amusement.

  “You’re too easy to tease.” He held out a hand. “Come with me.”

  They passed the cases on the way, but Ethan’s grip remained firm and strong. He tugged Rich on by and took the stairs. They didn’t pause until they reached the bedroom.

  “Did I do all right?”

  Breath tickled Rich’s ear and neck as Ethan spoke from where he stood behind Rich’s left shoulder, and trailed his lips along, edging to the curve to Rich’s earlobe. Sometime before Rich arrived, Ethan had drawn the curtains, put low-level light on, poured red wine, turned down the bed. Rich’s throat closed as his heart sped. He didn’t have a clue what to say to all this.

  “Hard choice, but I decided to stay, to take things come what may.”

  Fingers wove magic under the edge of Rich’s T-shirt, along the waistband of his trousers, around his waist and down to his fly.

  “Not the only hard thing, I see.”

  The last word barely reached Rich’s ears before he turned, sought Ethan’s lips. Grabbing, thrusting, kissing, they stumbled their way over to the bed. A laugh barked out as they fell back and Rich bounced against the mattress. They pulled and pushed, shedding clothes and concerns, Rich seeking to get his own clothes off at the same time he tried to divest Ethan of his, yet somehow, they managed to strip Rich first. While Ethan dealt with the last of his garments, Rich cupped the man’s face, turned his head, captured his lips. He kissed, delving into the lushness of the man’s mouth, into the depth of his eyes. He licked, kissed, and nibbled the slightly rough jaw, the lump in Ethan’s throat.

  Ethan’s working of Rich’s dick might have been more to the point but the touch felt right, expertise learned in a short time over a few stressful weeks. “Fuck. I can’t remember not wanting you.” As far as declarations went, Rich feared it might come across as too much, but he meant every word.

  His fear fled when Ethan’s voice rumbled against his neck. “Same here.” The declaration died on a grunt as Rich reached for him. A long hard length seared Rich’s palm as the two men humped, desperate with need.

  Strange thing, but the events of the previous few weeks passed through Rich’s mind. His sister taking over the company; she and him refusing to argue with their mother, even though she shouted at them; the proposals he’d put before Ruby, and her final acceptance. For the first time, no dark spirit hovered in the room with him and Ethan.

  “You taste so damn good. Smell good. Feel good.” Ethan rolled them, placing Rich on top. Surprised, Rich pushed up, putting a distance between them until he could see Ethan’s face.

  “Wouldn’t want to be accused of grinding into you.” Ethan winked.

  Hadn’t occurred to Rich but now Ethan mentioned it, his mind winged back to the day when he rolled around with a much-younger Ethan. “Oh, I don’t know. I can think of worse things.” He glanced at the bed. “There’s no dirt here.”

  “Pity.” Fingers dug into Ric
h’s backside and hiked him up tight against the other man. “I always did like getting the spoilt little rich boy mussed.”

  The only word to pop into Rich’s head didn’t so much as pause on the way to his mouth. “Please.”

  Ethan’s eyes lit-up. “Pardon?”

  Though he grew warm, Rich refused to hesitate. “Please do?” A few seconds ticked by while they did nothing more than look at each other. Cocks and chests aligned, and Rich swore he could feel the beat of Ethan’s pulse in both as he felt his own. “I still can’t believe I have you here.”

  Ethan’s gaze darkened though it hardly seemed possible. “Gonna beat you up now, Rich. Gonna give you a hiding.” His tone was all suggestion, no threat, and sped Rich’s heartbeat.

  They rolled again, wrestled, until Rich lay face down. A smart slap to his arse made him gasp and jerk. “Stay there.”

  Rich relaxed, not going anywhere. The snap of a bottle cap sounded in the otherwise silent room, the touch of lubed fingers sending a shiver through him. There came a gentle skimming of skin against skin as a wet touch nudged his legs open, caressed his testicles, stroked his entrance. How such a delicate sensation could have him begging body and soul, he didn’t know, but Rich rocked on the bed, opening up his mind and body as Ethan penetrated him. First with his fingers, and minutes later, when prepared, with his cock. A hand gripped Rich’s hair, turned his face to the side, and Ethan came down over him. For an instant, Rich drifted back in time to a day when Ethan rode him, and like then, there were tears, but Rich wasn’t crying from hate or shame, or a sense of longing he didn’t understand. This time his tears were from joy.

  As they rocked faster, Ethan folded in tighter, gripped hard, pressed harder, kissed, licked and bit. Rich saw small pinpricks of light behind his closed eyes, but they were not, this time, small stones in the dirt but from an orgasm so blinding he went off like a firework.

  Epilogue

  “Welcome, Ruby.” Rich leaned forward to kiss his mother’s cheek but she turned her head as if it was the last thing she wanted. The new house had worked out well and Rosie still cooked for her but Rich had made sure Rosie now owned a place of her own. She was no longer on call twenty-four hours most days, not at his mother’s whim anyway. With a great deal of patience he’d shown his mother how to make drinks with a kettle of the type which boiled one cup at a time. That and an expensive but easy-to-use coffee machine. This protest was her last line of defence—a pretence of being upset though she was happier. This was the first time she’d stepped inside Rich’s new home.

  “Shall I take you on the tour?” Saffie took Ruby’s coat as she made the offer. The two siblings had discussed options and decided Ruby would take less offence if Saffie showed her around the house.

  “I suppose, though I don’t need to see the bedrooms.”

  “Good.” Caution could take a running jump off the roof for all Rich cared. “I thought the cinema room, or the pool would be more interesting, and then Sapphire can take you to see what Ethan’s done with the garden. It’s a work in progress, of course, but you’ll get the idea.”

  His mother’s lips were open but not moving. Maybe shock rendered her speechless. Sapphire took her mother’s arm and guided her down the stairs.

  “A welcome sherry.”

  If shock at Rich’s relaxed attitude caused Ruby to gape, the sound of Ethan’s voice made her snap it shut so fast, Rich almost flinched as he imagined her biting off the end of her tongue. Still no words emerged as Ethan placed the glass in her hand. Her fingers closed like those of an automaton. At last she found her voice.

  “Oh…so you are still here.” She sniffed. Gave the glass a look of distain, but drank from it as if desperate.

  “A top-up?” Ethan held out the decanter, which Rich noted he’d thoughtfully brought along.

  Ruby Gardener presented him with her glass as though Ethan were a servant. As he poured, Ethan glanced over, Rich positive the man’s eyes twinkled. They stood side by side as Saffie led Ruby off to look around the house.

  “It’s going better than I expected.” Ethan managed to sound both amused and cynical.

  “Just keep plying her with the sherry. She’ll come round.” Rosie came out of the kitchen. Though both men had insisted she was here as a guest, not to serve, Rosie had brought dessert and checked on the dinner. No one wanted anything to go wrong with Ruby Gardener out to find fault with everyone. “Trust me. You’ll have her laughing by the end of the day.”

  “Laughing?” Rich couldn’t imagine it.

  “If the sherry fails, try port or brandy.” Rosie winked. “That and oh…about two or three years of patience. Enough time for it to look like your getting together was her plan all along. After, she’ll love you like one of her own.”

  Ethan looked stunned. “I think I’d rather be Richard’s rent boy.”

  The three shared glances and burst out laughing.

  THE END

  ABOUT SHARON MARIA BIDWELL

  Sharon was born in London on New Year’s Eve. Her work has appeared steadily in both print and electronic publications.

  Her short story “Bitter and Intoxicating” was snapped up for inclusion in the anthology Red Velvet and Absinthe. This compilation, edited by Mitzi Szereto with a foreword by Kelly Armstrong, was designed to evoke the romantic ethos of classic Gothic fiction with a serving of eroticism.

  With a repertoire of tales and a love of cross-genre writing, it surprised everyone (including herself) when Sharon branched out into erotic romance. These works have been critically acclaimed and often described as “deeply passionate.”

  Sharon’s worlds are vivid, unexpected, and sometimes intensely magical. She writes whatever her warped mind can come up with and is quite capable of writing something darker, grittier, and even outright twisted.

  She was propelled into the Steampunk universe of Space, 1899 and beyond, and also asked to write for the Lethbridge-Stewart series, Doctor Who related fiction.

  During her writing career she’s lived in a house with a Harry Potter cupboard under the stairs, shared a publisher with the creator of Roger Rabbit, and once took a trip to Jupiter. Only one of these has been in her imagination.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!