Wow. Thorne didn’t miss the vehemence in that. “As dysfunctional as our family was and is, I still care about my mother. She can’t help herself. She’s eccentric to the point of crazy. One time she and my father took us to a restaurant, sat us at a different table, gave us money to play pool and forgot we were there. They went home without us.”
Linton snorted.
“Occasionally, she turned up at school events completely sloshed and still managed to charm my teachers. Boys are not so forgiving. I got teased, so I lashed out and landed in trouble. Often she forgot to turn up at all. I’d be the lead in the school play and there were seats reserved for her and my father on the front row and they never came. Quite a few times at the end of term, River and I had to make our way home alone after everyone else’s parents had turned up to collect them. Yet, she’d throw us the most extravagant birthday parties. Once we had a garden full of zebras. They’re not people-friendly animals. She was probably warned but ignored it. I got kicked. Another time she let us paint dinosaurs all over the walls of the dining room. Another occasion she had the whole house turned into a haunted mansion for Halloween. It was fantastic.”
“Impressing friends and neighbours?”
“That was an element of it, though her parties were fun. She wanted to please us, dress us perfectly, instil immaculate manners, but she didn’t like the other parts of being a parent. The discipline, setting boundaries, knowing where to draw the line on almost everything. The lack of structure made it hard for River. He needs organisation and rules.”
“My mother never arranged a birthday party for Dirk—ever. She did for me, until I registered she wasn’t doing the same for him and that year I said I didn’t want one anymore. When I wouldn’t give out invitations, she did it. On the morning of my birthday, I disappeared with Dirk and we didn’t come back until nine that night. She was furious and blamed Dirk. She fucking blamed him for everything.”
Thorne glanced at him. Linton was staring straight ahead.
“Where was your father in all this?” Thorne asked.
“He fucked off when I was ten, Dirk was five. Never heard from him again.”
“Would you like to?”
“No, because he let us down by leaving us with someone who was mentally unstable. How can any mother adore one child and hate another? I still can’t get my head around how cruel she was to my brother. I got sent to boarding school, I assume using maintenance payments made by my father since my mother only worked as a school secretary, and I thought Dirk would follow, if only so she didn’t have him under her feet, but that didn’t happen. I wish…I wish I’d refused to go, stayed at home with him. Maybe I could have stopped him unravelling, but I was getting on well at school. I didn’t want to go to the local comp. I wish now I had.”
“You think he wasn’t your father’s child?”
“It occurred to me, but he was good with Dirk. I remember Dad playing with him, being kind to him.”
“Maybe that was why your mother didn’t like him. She saw him as a threat and when your father left, she blamed Dirk for him leaving. Maybe he wanted to take Dirk and she wouldn’t let him.”
“Maybe she killed him. Maybe he’s buried under the patio. Maybe it was his life insurance that paid for me to go to boarding school. Who the fuck knows?”
Thorne glanced at him, unsure whether or not he was serious. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“It wouldn’t make any difference to the way I feel about her. Or him.”
“It might to Dirk.”
“Maybe.”
“My mother never showed favouritism. River and I were equally adored or ignored depending on what else occupied her at the time. Neither she nor my father had any interest in hearing about our problems. Stop whining and deal with it was what we were both told. River just retreated further inside himself. I used to lose my temper a lot. I learned to hide the way I felt, probably why acting suits me.”
“They’ve fucked us up, our mums and dads. They probably meant to.” Linton chuckled.
“Shit. This is supposed to be a fun day out.” Well, more than a day but he’d break that to Linton later.
“What’s your favourite fantasy?” Linton asked. “And no more teddy bears. I’m going to have nightmares about that.”
“You and me in a Discovery.”
“You jammy devil. Okay, I’ll wait until we’ve stopped. And not at lights so don’t get excited. Well, not too excited.”
“Spoilsport.” Thorne loved how Linton could snap him straight out of his funk. “What about you?”
“You’ll be shocked at the coincidence. Me and you in a Discovery.” Linton reached over and stroked his thigh.
“I’m going to look for some bushes,” Thorne said.
They laughed and chattered for the rest of the journey and when Thorne pulled onto the rutted track that led to his land, he could hardly believe they were there already.
“So where are we? Theme Park? Tea shop? Petting farm? Wine tasting?” Linton stared at him. “Sex club? Swingers’ party? I was joking about the fisting and the pony play. Please don’t tell me it’s a teddy bears’ picnic unless you count as my teddy bear.”
“Shit. You’re going to be disappointed now. We’re camping.” Thorne climbed out to open the gate, then drove through into the sloping field. He pulled up next to where the old farm buildings had been knocked down and mostly removed, and turned off the engine.
The view robbed him of his breath every time he came here. Hills rolled away into the distance. Sweeps of blue linseed, yellow wheat and barley, lines of hops and green peas and beans made it look as if some psychedelic throw had been tossed over the land.
“Is this where you want to build your house?” Linton asked.
“Yep.”
“What a fantastic site.” Linton climbed out of the vehicle and Thorne joined him. “How big is the plot?”
“Three acres. This field and the ones either side. It goes down as far as those trees and there’s a small lake beyond that I own too. So though it’s south facing, there’s a view of sunrise and sunset.”
“Shit. Three acres. You could do with a herd of sheep or goats to eat the grass.”
“It had occurred to me.”
“Though goats might eat your house as well as the grass. What sort of place are you thinking of?”
“It was going to be a contemporary eco build with very low utility bills—maybe even producing surplus energy. Clad in black timber. Walls of glass. Five bedrooms, pool, hot tub, media room, gym, games room, tiger play room.”
“Was going to be?”
“My architect was the brother of the guy who cheated on me. When we broke up, I told Max Devere where he could stick his plans. Cut my nose off to spite my face because I liked what he’d come up with. Most of it anyway. I assume I could have negotiated.”
“You could have still used him. He wouldn’t have wanted to lose your business even though you and his brother had split up. You’re a prestigious client. Why don’t you ask him if he’s still interested in working for you?”
“No.”
“Is that a definite no or a maybe?”
“A definite no. I’ll have to look for someone else. I sort of lost interest when Owen and I split up. Maybe it’s time to begin again.”
Thorne looked at Linton who was staring out across the valley. “You need a place that blends with the chalk hillside, flows with it and responds to its context. Every window should have this view. You could almost live outdoors with the right set up at the back.”
“You sound like Max.”
Linton let out a short laugh. “A designer’s eye. This is a great plot. They don’t come up very often… I wouldn’t think. Much as I like city living, it would be fantastic to wake up to this every morning. It’s a stunning view.”
“Yeah.” The idea of waking up to Linton every morning made his heart pound.
This was supposed to be a bit of fun, a rebound from Owen, a brief
but hot encounter with a guy who turned him on and made him laugh. A guy he’d had to chase. One he’d wanted to chase. A guy who was different. One who didn’t think the sun shone out of his arse. A guy who told him off when he overstepped the mark.
Thorne had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to last, much as he might be wondering whether it could. Linton’s need to tell him something was enough of a warning. Whatever it was, Thorne wasn’t going to like it, but that was okay because they could have fun until then. That was what this was about and that nagging, niggling anxiety it wasn’t going to be enough would go away eventually.
“Help me unpack? I thought we’d have a picnic.” Thorne opened the back of the Discovery and Linton came up at his side.
“A tent?” Linton asked. “You mean we really are camping? You want to stay overnight?”
“I seem to remember you weren’t a fan of extravagant gestures.”
“You decided not to whisk me to Paris for a meal, not to lavish me with bottles of Cristal, not to climb into a cosy sleigh bed in one of London’s top hotels—with butlers? Well, not in bed with the butlers obviously, unless you’re into that.”
Thorne smiled. “You’re quite enough for me to handle. I thought this would be fun. There’s everything here we need.” And it had cost him considerably more than an evening out in London.
“Everything?” Linton gaped at him. “Running water? Electricity? A comfortable bed with Egyptian cotton sheets? A massage shower?” Linton gave a dramatic gasp. “Freshly brewed Colombian coffee?”
“Smart arse. There should be a solar shower and I can make it massaging one.” Thorne shifted bags aside and found the five-gallon container of water lying inside protective cardboard wrapping. “Help me put this on the roof. I asked them to fill it with hot water. The sun will keep it warm.”
They manoeuvred the bag of water onto the top of the Discovery and Thorne exposed the black plastic to the sun. He’d used a similar one on location in the middle of nowhere in Arizona and it had worked pretty well.
Linton lifted out a hamper and there was another behind it. “How many people are joining us?”
“We need lunch, dinner and breakfast. I intend to work up an appetite. Why don’t you put up the tent while I unpack?”
“I hope it’s one of those throw-it-up-in-the-air jobs.”
“It should be.”
Linton unzipped it from its wrapping and moved away from the car. Once he’d removed the tie, he flicked his wrist and the tent opened up. Thorne was impressed until a gust of wind came out of nowhere and ripped it from Linton’s grasp. Linton ran after it and Thorne ran after Linton. As Linton caught the tent, he tripped and sprawled on top of it. The tent folded up around him just as Thorne reached him.
Thorne tried not to laugh. “Has it eaten you?”
Linton groaned. “I’ve bruised my bruises.”
“Shit.” Thorne had forgotten Linton was injured. “Here, let me help.”
Thorne stretched out an edge of the tent to free him and bent to give him a hand, only for Linton to pull him down and the tent to wrap around them both leaving them face to face, groin to groin, swaddled in blue nylon. Linton pressed his lips to Thorne’s and a moment later, they were necking and rocking their hips together with the enthusiasm of teenagers.
Thorne was lost. Linton’s kisses drove every thought out of his head. They practically devoured each other until the need for air drove them apart.
“I’m thinking…” Linton panted.
“You can still think? Fuck it, I’m slipping up.”
When Linton eased away from him, Thorne wanted to pull him back. Linton had a concerned look on his face and Thorne wished he could wipe it away. Whatever Linton had on his mind, Thorne didn’t want to hear it.
“You roll to the left and pin that side down,” Thorne said. “I’ll go right.”
They emerged from the tent at almost the same time, the structure popped the right way up and didn’t move.
“Let’s take it back up near the car.” Thorne grabbed a corner and Linton caught hold of another one. “There’s an airbed we can put inside. That’ll weigh it down while we stake it in place in case another freak blast of wind takes it in the direction of the Channel.”
“I hope someone packed a compressor because I’m crap at blowing.” Linton gave him an innocent look. “Though I am rather good at sucking.”
Thorne rolled his eyes.
Linton found a mallet in the back of the Range Rover, and they pegged the tent down. Thorne plugged the compressor into the charging point in the vehicle, unfolded the mattress and started to inflate it.
“Anything I can do?” Linton asked.
“Strip. Get the food out. Open something to drink. Whatever order you like. On second thoughts no. Don’t strip yet or I’ll not get this done.”
Linton picked an area close to the tent to spread one of the blankets. He moved a few rocks, and popped a pure white pebble into his pocket. Once he’d flapped the blanket out, he dragged it down onto the ground and spread it, pinning it in place with the picnic hampers, his shoes and another couple of blankets. The breeze had kicked off again though it made the heat more bearable. Almost a perfect summer’s day. If it hadn’t been for Linton’s personal invisible black cloud.
He wanted to speak to Owen. This whole thing was blatantly unfair. Linton would talk to Owen first, then go to see Max. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to say anything to Thorne. He hadn’t given up the idea of convincing Thorne to rehire Max as his architect. It felt like the perfect solution. Except Linton had lied about what he did for a living and if he tried to keep this a secret, all it would take was one word to destroy everything.
No, he had to tell the truth, but after he’d spoken to Owen. He lay back on his elbows and watched as Thorne tried to wrestle the now very solid inflatable mattress into the tent.
“You could give me a hand,” Thorne said. “Unless you want to sleep on the ground while I’m comfortable on the mattress.”
“I was planning on sleeping on you.”
Thorne growled, shoved the last few feet of mattress into the tent and heaved a sigh of relief. He dropped down on the blanket next to Linton, toed off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head.
“I’ll see you,” Linton said and took off his shirt. “And I’ll raise you.” He unfastened his jeans.
Thorne laughed. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. His cock was already hard. Linton gulped. Thorne looked even more magnificent in sunlight, like some skilfully hewn, narrow-hipped statue with perfectly contoured muscles.
“Do you know why ancient statues have such small penises?” Linton asked.
“Did you have to be staring at me when you said that?”
“You don’t have a small cock. You could have been a porn star.”
“It was on my list before aerospace engineer and after brain surgeon.”
Linton reached out to stroke Thorne’s dick, running his fingers from balls to tip. “Small cocks were seen as the better option. Large ones were associated with stupidity and lust. The bigger they were, the less attractive they were thought to be.”
“That sounds like an excuse made up by some underendowed philosopher backed up by his equally underendowed pals.”
Linton sniggered. “Strange though, isn’t it, that the exact opposite is true now? Well unless you have one of those monster cocks that dangle down to the knee. I always think—poor guy, that’s not going to fit anywhere.”
“I have to confess, I’m feeling stupidly lustful.” He stared at Linton’s cock, currently making an attempt to find a way out of his clothing.
“Me too.” Linton pulled off his jeans and shorts.
Thorne’s eyes widened. “No tan lines. I hadn’t noticed before. You sunbathe nude? Where the hell do you do that?” He shifted closer and ran his fingers over Linton’s bruised hip.
The breath caught in Linton’s throat. “I’ve just returned from three
months in New York. I spent several weekends on Long Island at the home of a friend.” An occasional fuck buddy, but Linton wasn’t going to be revealing that.
“There are clothes optional beaches?”
“I don’t know. I only stripped off around the pool. I’m assuming we can’t be seen here. Though that glider has been circling for ages.”
Thorne looked up into an empty sky, then scowled.
“You’re so easy.” Linton slid down and licked Thorne’s cock, curling his tongue over the head.
“Oh hell,” Thorne moaned. “You have the sweetest, sexiest, funniest, most talented mouth and I want to fuck it. Can I? Please?””
Linton came up on his knees. “Since you ask so nicely. Just don’t choke me, Donkey Kong.”
Thorne was still laughing as he stood in front of Linton, the fingers of one hand threaded in Linton’s hair. Linton kissed Thorne’s other hand, sucked his thumb, then every finger.
“God.” Thorne’s breathing turned noisy and the mere ability to do that to him turned Linton on even more.
Linton licked the head of Thorne’s cock, one gentle swipe with the flat of his tongue, then kissed it before blowing on it. Thorne’s knees shook.
“Shit. And here I thought I was going to be in charge,” Thorne murmured.
“You are. Well, you will be in a minute.”
Linton took Thorne’s cock into his mouth but didn’t let it touch his tongue, then pulled back and blew on it again. Thorne stared into his eyes as he slid his dick over Linton’s lips into his mouth, back out, then pushed almost all the way inside. Linton relaxed his jaw and breathed through his nose. Thorne was making all sorts of noises, grunts and gasps and each sound made Linton’s balls tingle.
Getting face fucked was usually less fun for the receiver unless the giver really knew what he was doing. But Linton had experienced the power trip of doing this and was aware how exciting it could be for both participants, if you trusted the guy not to be too rough, otherwise your jaw ached for days.
I trust him. Oh fuck.
Linton stimulated the rim of Thorne’s cock head by making a tight ring around the shaft with his lips so that Thorne had to force his way through. Judging by Thorne’s sharp intake of breath, he liked that. But Linton could feel Thorne’s desperation growing so he let him set the pace and concentrated on grabbing air when he could. Thorne still clasped Linton’s hair and with his other hand he grabbed the back of Linton’s neck, dragging Linton’s head in to his belly. Linton’s stomach lurched with excitement. It felt good to be doing this outdoors. He couldn’t see there was much risk on private property and if they could be seen by passing aircraft, so what?
Dirty Games Page 22
