“When did my father report her missing?”
She gave him an odd look. “We didn’t. Of course. She ran away. Got away, I should say. Darling, don’t tell me you don’t know. My God, but why should you? The police were looking for her for attempted murder, Ben. She tried to murder me!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ben reeled into the bedroom sometime after four a.m. He was very drunk. His head was spinning, and he still didn’t have his jacket. He thought his phone and wallet were probably missing with that, but was too drunk to care. He flopped down on the bed and groaned. The room was spinning. He fumbled out a hand and located Nikolas, which was good. He was fairly sure this was going to be no fun at all, unless you counted…he managed to get to the bathroom in time. Jesus. He felt a hand on the back of his neck and could have cried for shame and gratitude. He pushed his cheek into the hand but the gesture was ruined when he retched again. Finally, he fell back against the wall, knees drawn up, wondering why you never actually vomited out the alcohol and felt better afterwards.
Nikolas pulled him to his feet and silently undressed him. Ben felt like the little boy in the photograph once more, the one he couldn’t remember but who’d apparently been loved by his father and bought a red bike. Then Nikolas had bought him his Monster. He smiled at this thought: that Nikolas was like his father, buying him things and looking after him. He tried to kiss him and tell him this, but Nikolas pushed him off muttering something Ben was glad he couldn’t hear properly. When he had the last of Ben’s clothes off, he led him over to the sauna. Ben baulked at the idea, but he was forced in and several bottles of chilled water were brought in too. Ben eased himself down onto the hot bench but his brain tried to escape out of his ears so he sat up again. Nikolas sat alongside him and pulled his head down into his lap. That was much more comfortable. Nikolas stroked through his hair, staring down at him. Then he put a thumb to Ben’s cheek. “Lipstick.”
Ben closed his eyes. “I think I kissed her. I mean, she kissed me, and I think I must’ve kissed her.”
“I assume we’re talking about the delectable Natasha.”
“You think she’s gorgeous, too?”
“I was being sarcastic, Ben. But I’m so glad to discover you find her attractive.”
“Am I in trouble? I drank too much. I’m sorry. I think I was nervous. Her lips were warm, and that’s all I can remember. It was so lame.” He sat up, seized Nikolas’s face and kissed him, hard. Neither of them had shaved since the previous morning and their stubble rasped deliciously. Ben felt the familiar surge of need and half-climbed onto Nikolas, pushing him back. He breathed around the kissing, “I’m sorry. She reminded me of you. Ouch.” He sat back, his head spinning, pouting. Nikolas handed him a bottle of water and made him drink it.
Nikolas watched him for a while.
“Ben?” Ben lowered the bottle, wary at Nikolas’s tone. “It’s normal. You’re thirty-one years old, and she’s beautiful and vivacious. Why wouldn’t you want her?”
Ben frowned. “What d’you mean? My head hurts. I don’t want to think about this now. No, actually, I do. What the fuck do you mean? I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you. You know that. Right?”
“Right.”
Ben tilted his head a little, studying him. “I think we’ll have a talk about this when I’m sober.”
“You won’t remember this conversation in the morning. You never do when you’re drunk.”
Ben poked Nikolas’s chest. “That’s where you’re wrong, buddy.”
But Nikolas wasn’t wrong. Ben woke up in bed and couldn’t even remember leaving the party. He had no idea where his clothes were or, for a minute, why he wasn’t in their bed in London. He cautiously pulled the pillow over his head, avoiding as much movement as he could and drifted back to sleep again.
He woke ravenous, fidgety and guilty, but still entirely oblivious to most of the evening and night. He was horrified to see it was two o’clock in the afternoon and there was no sign of Nikolas. He tried to find his phone but couldn’t find his jacket. There was no note, but some food had been ordered and left on the table. He staggered gratefully to it and tried the coffee which was still warm. Blessing Nikolas’s name, which was not something he did all that often, he dug in and demolished a basket of Danish pastries and a bowl of fruit. He began to feel better. The door opened and Nikolas came in. He saw Ben and nodded. “Good afternoon.”
Ben nodded sheepishly. “Did I wake you when I came in?”
Nikolas shook his head. “Enjoy the party?”
Ben shrugged. “I can’t really remember. Fuck, did I drive back?”
“No, apparently you came by taxi.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“To the storage unit. I’ve arranged for everything to be taken to the house. I thought if it was in place, it would be easier for you to sort into things you want and things you don’t want.” He turned away at this and slid his jacket off, dropping it onto the bed. “Radulf and I are going back to London this evening. I’ll take the train, if you’ll drive me to the station.”
Ben rose, uncertain. He wasn’t feeling entirely himself and couldn’t work out the undertone in Nikolas’s voice. “Has something come up?”
“In a way.”
“Don’t go. I don’t want you to go. What am I supposed to do about all this by myself? He took Nikolas’s hand. “I’m going to tell them, Nik, about us. I had to make up all kinds of shit last night about girlfriends. It was embarrassing.”
“Stop swearing. Leave it for now, Ben. I’ll be away. There’s no need to tell anyone anything.”
Ben frowned and played with Nikolas’s fingers for a moment, studying them for inspiration. “I won’t tell them, but only if you stay.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Why are you being like this?” He faltered. “Oh, did I vomit on you last night?”
Nikolas laughed. “No. Not this time. Look, Ben, I…”
“I said something, didn’t I? Or I did something. Tell me what I said.”
Nikolas held his gaze. “You kissed Natasha. There, are you happy? You came back from the very first party we’ve been to separately and you kissed someone else.”
Ben screwed up his face. “I don’t think I did. In fact I’m sure I wouldn’t.”
Nikolas shrugged. “I told you last night it was normal. I understand.”
Ben caught his jacket. “Whoa. Hold on a minute. What’s happened to the ‘I’ll kill you if you leave me’ pronouncements? I prefer the killing thing to the ‘it’s normal’. What the fuck are you trying to do here, Nikolas?”
“Don’t swear at me, Ben, I won’t…what are you doing? No!”
Ben wrestled Nikolas suddenly and decisively onto the bed and was now straddling him, his wrists held firmly. He looked down, studying the face he knew so well. Suddenly, he dug his fingers sharply into Nikolas’s ribs. “Admit you’re an idiot.” Nikolas’s gasp of pain and outrage were choked into disbelief. He almost laughed. Ben felt this was a good start so dug in again, right between the prominent bones, into the incredibly sensitive bits between. “Admit you’re an idiot. Go on, say I’m an idiot.” Nikolas couldn’t catch his breath for outraged laughter.
Finally, just so he could breathe, Nik gasped, “All right. Stop it. Please. One minute.” Ben stopped. “I admit I may have…oh, God! Stop. I’m an idiot. There!”
Ben stopped again, pleased. “Now, this is going to be a little harder for you. Oh, no you don’t—” Nikolas had made a bid for freedom, but Ben was too heavy and strong for him to dislodge. “Now you have to say Ben Rider loves me. Try it, it’s easy…Ben…go on…it’s quite easy.” He dug his fingers into the raw other side that hadn’t yet been abused. Nikolas heaved in a breath and tried to curl up, but Ben sat heavier, leaning forward, fingers deep between the bones. “Say it. Ben Rider loves me.”
“Ben…” Nik was trying. He was actually trying, but he apparently couldn’t get the words out for lau
ghing. “Ben Rider is a wanker.”
Ben gasped at the audacity and attacked with both hands. Nikolas tried to push him off, attacked Ben, managed to roll them, but he was winded, and Ben took advantage to plunge his hand deep into Nikolas’s trousers. Now there was a real standoff. Ben dug his fingers in. Nikolas arched and winced. Ben grinned. “Say it.”
Nikolas shook his head then gasped and doubled up. Ben undid the button for better access, totally in control due to the amount of pain he was now able to inflict. “Say it.”
Nikolas lay back carefully, hissing as Ben’s fingers twisted and squeezed again. Through gritted teeth, he acknowledged, “Ben Rider loves me.” Ben stilled his hand and lay over Nikolas. He kissed him, just into the hollow of his neck, under his ear.
“Say it again.”
“Ben Rider loves me.”
He mouthed up into Nikolas’s golden hair, kissing over the greying temples. “Say it again. Emphasis on me.”
Nikolas cupped Ben’s face and kissed him back. “Ben Rider loves me.” They brought their mouths together, Ben demonstrating with his tongue and teeth and soft breath what he’d been so insistent on Nikolas knowing. Deprived of a night’s release, they were both more than ready for it now, but Ben didn’t want to play games anymore.
He wanted to make love.
§ § §
The comforter was cool under his belly. Ben opened his legs languidly; an invitation he knew Nikolas couldn’t refuse. It was glorious, just lying here, waiting for Nikolas to enter him, watching him undress unhurriedly. Ben’s whole body was thrumming with anticipation and desire. Nikolas climbed naked on top of him and lay for a moment totally stretched out over him, their long, lean bodies matching in so many ways. He rubbed his face in Ben’s dark hair then began to ease down, licking and biting very gently across his shoulders and down his spine, kissing each vertebra. Finally, he reached the shallow, warm cleft between the smooth cheeks and eased it open with his fingers, trailing his tongue down and across the place it concealed. Ben rose from the bed, arched at the waist, trying to picture how he looked to Nikolas—how Nikolas would see him, young and supple and beautiful. He put one hand back, searching for Nikolas’s head, found it and pushed him down, very clear in what he wanted. Nikolas opened Ben wide and used his tongue and his teeth until Ben was swearing and begging, and then Nikolas rose over him and pushed himself deep within the welcoming body.
§ § §
It never got old or stale, each time was as if they’d discovered this intense pleasure themselves, that they were the only men in the world illicitly using their bodies like this. They knew each step to the place they wanted to be, but it never tired them or became routine to get there. Each time they made the journey, it was the first time, the best time.
Nikolas pulled Ben’s hips high, kneeling behind him. Just closing his eyes and picturing how they looked made him leak with pleasure, and his cock glided even more smoothly inside the tightness. His hips contracted and relaxed, contracted and relaxed in a steady rhythm, as he built up the pleasure for them both. He knew Ben was working himself below and put a hand under just to feel this. He didn’t miss a beat, kept up the constant stimulation deep within Ben they both craved. He ran his other hand up and down Ben’s smooth, warm back, relishing the strength and hardness, the lean hips, the strong thighs, braced to take his weight and power. When he was ready, Nikolas stepped up the pace, the familiar tightening in his groin telling him he was close. They were sweating now. If he pulled his thoughts away from the internal, from the tiny bubble of existence they’d created on the bed, then he could hear the tell-tale rhythmic banging of the headboard, the slap of his skin on Ben’s and the frantic panting as they both crested.
§ § §
They climaxed. They hit the top of the climb at the same time with the intensity of the plunging free-fall taking them over. Semen shooting; waves of pleasure; the awful, beautiful sense of helplessness and crashing; and then the loss of rational thought. But they were there together, going through the same powerful loss of self.
When it was over, when they hit the ground, they both understood how that was, too; and when Nikolas collapsed on Ben, hearts racing, cock still twitching spasms deep within him, there were no words needed, no gestures, no reassurances, for they were both men.
So it was with a sense of pleasure almost greater than his orgasm that Ben heard Nikolas murmur into the back of his neck, “Ben Rider loves me.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The house gave the illusion of being habitable. They wandered around, amazed and impressed. The hall held a vast oak table and a baby grand piano in one corner, the sitting room contained old but quality couches and leather armchairs. There were books stacked everywhere. Ben felt overwhelmed by the sheer ownership of things. They tied him down yet freed him. It was a strange realisation. But more than this, he remembered things. The strangest things. A little blue tin that belonged in the kitchen. He remembered it. He recognised a footstool that when turned on its side could be rolled on. He’d played, rolling and falling, rolling and falling. He felt utterly bewildered, yet completely at home. Nikolas was staring at the piano. Ben suddenly asserted, “You can play.” Nikolas considered the instrument for a moment longer then wandered back toward the hall.
“I’ve forgotten how.”
Before Ben could challenge this, they heard a car pulling up on the gravel outside. Natasha and John Redvers came to the front door. Natasha invited herself in, and John followed, carrying a large basket.
Nikolas stepped away from Ben and clicked for Radulf to follow him back into the kitchen. Natasha grinned and handed Ben his jacket. “I raided your wallet, but everything else is there.”
Ben muttered a sheepish thank you, and she indicted the basket. “We’ve brought a picnic. Aren’t we clever? Hungry?”
It was too cold and bleak to sit outside, so they made their way into the sitting room and draped themselves on the sofa and leather chairs, waiting for Ben to join them.
They were chatting about the party when Nikolas finally came in, reliving highlights and laughing at things said and done. Natasha waved a bottle of wine at him but he shook his head.
“Come on, don’t be a spoil sport.”
He sat down. “I don’t drink.”
She seemed faintly ill at this and took a large swallow of her own drink to recover. John was pacing around the room, looking at things. His barely contained anger was palpable. Nikolas was watching him in that way of his that gave the appearance he was just staring out of the window, thinking his own thoughts. Ben knew better. To deflect any potential unpleasantness, he asked Natasha, “How long are you down for?”
She shrugged and turned coyly to Nikolas. “Maybe I’ll catch a ride with you when you go back. I love that car. Sex on wheels.”
Nikolas flicked his glance over. She got up and sat on the arm of his chair, swinging her leg. Ben watched this scene with complete and utter fascination. He’d never seen Nikolas react to men or women coming onto him, except superficially at parties where he was always out to charm anyway.
Nikolas shifted slightly away so he could look up at her more easily. She offered him a cigarette. “I don’t smoke, either.”
“Bloody hell. I hope you have some vices.” She rested her hand on his shoulder with a casualness that was almost convincing.
Nikolas caught her gaze and held it, then apologised with amusement, “No vices at all, I’m afraid. I’ve lived a very quiet life. One devoted to charitable works, mainly.”
“Huh.” She pursed her lips. “That sounds boring.” She turned to Ben, her fingers now on Nikolas’s neck, stroking it. “What’s it like to work for a saint, Ben?”
Ben thought about this for a moment. “Challenging.”
John threw himself on the couch Natasha had vacated. “What’re your plans for the house? Do you have any?”
Ben didn’t want to take his eyes off Natasha’s hand, which was now brushing the short hair on the back of
Nikolas’s head. He knew the feel of that short hair intimately. Fingers tingling with memory, he reluctantly turned to John. “I want to get it so I can live in it, obviously. But I haven’t thought much beyond that.”
Natasha suddenly stood and held out her hand for Nikolas, saying brightly, “I forgot! I brought a house-warming present. Will you help me get it in from the car, darling?” It was the sort of invitation no man could refuse without seeming completely rude. Nikolas ignored the hand though as he stood up.
“I hope it’s not too heavy. I’m not very strong.” Standing at six four in his impressively honed body, she clearly didn’t know how to take this, but turned it to her advantage by running her hand down his arm and squeezing lightly. “I’ll help, don’t worry. And I’m terribly strong.” She took his hand and placed it teasingly on her arm so he could feel. “Come on then. Let’s leave the Redvers to it for a while, shall we?”
Nikolas turned to Ben and said in Danish, “If I’m not back in five minutes, send a rescue party.”
Ben chuckled and added quickly in the same language, “One minute, and it’ll be me coming to find you, don’t worry.”
Natasha flicked her eyes between them at this private exchange. “That was so cool! You speak German! I love German—all that ordering people about.” She frogmarched Nikolas out of the door, leaving Ben and John in anything but amicable silence.
Ben decided to ease the tension and admitted genuinely, “I’m sorry about the will thing, John. In a way, I mean. I’m not going to pretend I’m not delighted my father left this house to me, because I am. Maybe we can be friends now though. I mean…”
“He was like a father to me. My mother and I looked after him and enabled him to live here almost to the very end. Then when he died we had to leave, and now some complete stranger has everything. How would you feel, Mr Rider?” He stood up. “So, no, I don’t think we’re going to be friends.”
The Bridge of Silver Wings Page 19
