Boats in the night (14 page)

Until Giles jerked his hips.

“Fuck!” Smutty had thought he was all the way in, but Giles’s movement pushed him

even deeper.

“Yes,” Giles rasped. “Please.”

Smutty might not have ever been in quite this position before, but his body seemed to know what to do and he gave a small, sharp thrust with his hips. Giles sobbed and his heels dug into Smutty’s back.

“Was that okay? You’re not hurting are you?”

“More,” was the only word Giles seemed to be able to form between his panting

breaths.

And so Smutty began to experiment by alternating short thrusts with longer, slower

gliding movements, less concerned with how they felt for him than with the effect they had on Giles. The faster movements made Giles close his eyes and grunt as beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. The slower movements made Giles groan and eventually

persuaded him to open his eyes. They were darker than Smutty had ever seen them, and he couldn’t look away.

Stay,
they seemed to be imploring him.
Stay with me, please.

Smutty closed his own eyes to focus on the sensation of Giles’s body welcoming him

in, of that dive into perfect heat and pressure with every push of his hips. It was bliss, and Giles had given it to him. He wanted to make it last forever, but his arms were aching so he pushed himself up onto his knees and hooked his arms under Giles’s thighs.

The pressure around him changed and with the next thrust Giles made a desperate,

throaty sound. Smutty watched, mesmerised, as Giles’s dick dribbled pre-come onto his belly.

He pumped his hips again, in search of that perfect angle, and when he was sure he had it he changed the rhythm to short stabs. A low whimpering noise came from Giles, but Smutty was no longer worried about hurting him. Not when he knew he was hitting the spot every time.

Smutty watched the stream of pre-come snake its way down Giles’s belly until it was

lost in the mat of hair. His gaze carried on travelling to meet Giles’s eyes.

Stay,
they were still pleading.
I want you to stay.

If he kept this up for much longer, Smutty was going to end up giving in.

Heat pooled at the base of Smutty’s spine. He reached out to grasp Giles’s dick and

stroked fast and hard. Those eyes finally surrendered their demand as they glazed over.

Giles’s body stiffened and his dick throbbed as spurts of come flooded out. Giles’s voice was so hoarse his cry barely registered, but Smutty could feel the orgasm rush through his body like a tidal bore.

Smutty thrust in deep as Giles pulsed around him, the clenching heat ripping his own climax from his balls. The force of it pulled Smutty under, drowning him in waves of terrifying joy.

He gasped for air as everything faded out to grey.

Time stood still as Smutty floated somewhere far away. The return to his body was

gradual: first a twinge in his leg, then an ache in his balls, then a shudder that pulled him back to the here and now. And then there were lips on his, kissing him tenderly.

“How was it?” Giles asked.

Smutty laughed. He had no idea how to answer, and was afraid to force his eyelids

open in case that plea was still burning in Giles’s eyes. But when he did it was gone, only a soft, sated expression remaining. “Fucking amazing,” he whispered.

“Me too,” Giles said.

It turned out the worst thing about topping was having to deal with the condom

afterwards, and by the time Smutty got back to the bed, Giles had pulled the sleeping bag over himself and was already half asleep. Smutty nestled in behind him, peering over his shoulder to gaze at the flames through the glass door of the stove.

They were playing with fire, he knew. He just had to hope it didn’t end up burning

them both.

Chapter Seventeen

Giles woke to the gentle swaying of the boat as Smutty moved around. It was strange, living, eating and sleeping all in one room, and he appreciated Smutty’s considerate quietness. Giles lay there feigning sleep for a while, trying to decide what he could say to convince Smutty to stay. What was the best approach to adopt, now he’d discovered the real reason for that skittish behaviour? Smutty might have claimed that twenty years was long enough to forget a hurt like that, but some things would always remain painful.

Giles cast his mind back to his mother. So kind, so vibrant. All it took to wipe that out was a careless flame or two.

She’d been holidaying with an old school friend for a few days. Lucille Rathbourne

had always loved anything outdoorsy, but Giles’s father had claimed to be allergic to roughing it, so he’d stayed at home to look after Giles while Lucille and Meredith had taken off to a cabin in the Scottish Highlands for a long weekend.

The coroner had returned a verdict of accidental death by burning. There was

evidence that both women had been drinking, and that one of the candles they’d used to light the cabin had fallen over as they slept. He’d assured Giles’s father that the women would have succumbed to the smoke long before the flames would have reached their bodies, but Giles had still had nightmares about being burned alive for most of his adolescence.

Giles’s eyes flickered open when he heard Smutty strike a match. He was relieved to

see him light a paraffin lamp rather than a candle. How had he ended up falling for someone who danced with fire? Fate seemed to be playing tricks on him, but maybe it had been what he needed. Already, Smutty had helped him form new associations to overlay the old.

Or maybe he simply cared so deeply for the man, he’d take him any way he came,

even if that included a whiff of paraffin and a body tattooed in flames.

The sound of Smutty struggling to open those obstinate doors roused Giles from his

thoughts, and he cracked his eyes open to watch him step out onto the front deck. He should join him. He’d take his cues from Smutty. He wouldn’t try and browbeat him into staying.

He’d just enjoy spending time with him, however long they had together.

Giles pulled on his clothing and stepped out onto the deck. Smutty gave him a quiet

smile and reached out for his hand, then turned back to look over the water.

“See that light? Isn’t it beautiful?”

Giles turned to where Smutty indicated, and the breath caught in his throat. The

morning sun was still low in the sky, and the beams passed through the branches of the trees on the other bank, forming glowing shafts of light in the mist over the water.

“It’s stunning,” Giles whispered.

Smutty sighed and leant back against Giles’s chest. It felt so right to wrap his arms around Smutty’s warmth and rest his cheek against a mat of fiery dreadlocks.

“I want to stay here. I really do…” Smutty began.

“But?” Giles prompted. There was always a ‘but’.

“It’s not just the thing with Finn, although that’s part of it. My whole life I always had the commune to return to. I loved that place. Not just the people, but the land. When I got back from Australia one year to find out they’d all been evicted and the land had been sold…

I felt rootless. Just drifted after that. Never let myself get attached to any one place in case it happened again.”

“I think I understand,” Giles said. “I feel that way about Nunney House.”

“You should make more of an effort with the gardens, then,” Smutty said, but the

teasing lilt to his voice couldn’t hide the underlying sadness. “Your lawn was a disgrace.”

“You could teach me,” Giles said. “I’d like that.”

“I’d like that too.” Smutty gave a wistful sigh.

“You know you can have it if you want it. This place as your home. With me.”

“I know. But it could all be taken away so easily, and then I’d have nothing again.”

Giles spoke slowly and steadily into Smutty’s ear. “I can’t promise you exactly what the future will hold, but I can promise you I’m not the kind of man who lets things go without a fight. I’d never just tell you to leave. I’d try and fix it if things ever went wrong between us.”

“Is that what happened with Fabian?”

It was a fair question, Giles had to admit, but it still hurt. “I fought to try and save what we had, yes. I was fighting to keep him for months before he finally left. But once he did, I… Well, I came to realise that no matter how hard you fight, you can’t save what you never had. Fabian never loved me. I’m not sure he’s even capable of love.”

Smutty turned in Giles’s arms until they were facing. “I know I’m capable of love.”

Giles’s heart leapt. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Smutty leaned in until their foreheads touched. “I’m saying: no promises, but I’m not going anywhere today, okay?”

Giles nodded. It wasn’t quite what he’d dared hope for, but it was something.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

While they kissed, the sun crested the trees and began burning the mist off the water around them.

***

had said he wanted to get an early start on the garden, but he’d agreed to come up to the house for elevenses later on. It was unreasonable for Giles to expect Smutty to spend every minute of the day with him, of course, but not knowing how long Smutty would stay made him greedy to hoard the memories while he had the chance.

After downing his tea, Giles contemplated putting on some old clothes and joining

Smutty in the garden. Would he appreciate that? Or would he rather be left alone? God knew, Giles didn’t want to crowd the man and send him running. It sounded like Smutty had done enough running in his life. What he needed was to slow down, put down some roots

somewhere. Here, preferably.

The phone’s insistent trill cut through Giles’s thoughts. He answered, with half his mind still on the Smutty problem.

“Good morning, Mr Rathbourne. Bernard Cooper here, manager of Cooper’s Garden

Centre. I was hoping it might be all right to deliver your plants today as I’m a bit short-staffed tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I don’t know if Sm— my gardener’s had time to prepare for them

yet, though.”

“Don’t worry. They’re all in pots, so as long as you’ve got somewhere to put them in the meantime and keep them watered, they’ll be fine for a few weeks at least.”

Giles agreed, hoping it would be okay with Smutty then went to pull on his oldest pair of jeans and a polo shirt that had seen better days.

He found Smutty in the kitchen garden, tearing weeds out of one of the beds. It looked like an impossible task as the place was so verdant with unwanted plants, yet Smutty had clearly found a few worth keeping as he’d left them in place.

A surprised grin greeted Giles when Smutty noticed him there.

“I thought you might need some help,” Giles said. “The garden centre called to say

they need to drop the plants off today.”

“And there was me thinking this was your weekend look.” Smutty hooked his muddy

fingers into Giles’s belt loops and pulled him closer. “I like the scarecrow vibe. It suits you.”

He kissed the tip of Giles’s nose.

“I should dress like a gardener more often,” Giles said, dazed, as his arms came round to pull Smutty even closer.

“You definitely should.” Smutty twisted out of Giles’s grip, much to his

disappointment. “And you should work like one, too. I’m going to need a load of leaf mulch for the soil around the new fruit bushes. I raked a load off your front lawn last week and left it in a pile under the tree. Wheelbarrow’s over there. You can pile it up in the corner.”

Feeling like he’d been dismissed, Giles set about fetching dead leaves. The first load was the most troublesome as he hadn’t taken a fork with him, but after kitting himself out with gloves and tools, the work was surprisingly enjoyable. The birds were busy building their nests, the air was fresh, and it felt good to put his body to use. Even the leaves were more appealing than he’d first imagined, and he set himself to identifying all the subtle hues of umber and sienna, ochre and rust.

As Giles hefted another forkful of soggy leaf matter into the wheelbarrow, releasing an earthy scent that somehow reminded him of bonfires, the low rumble of a decelerating engine tickled his ears. Giles turned, fully expecting to see a truck appear through his front gates.

An ice-blue Mercedes convertible with a tan soft top pulled in instead. He’d never

seen the car before, although that might not have been surprising as it looked fresh from the showroom. From this angle he couldn’t make out the driver, but who in his small circle of acquaintances would drive a car that flashy? Giles could think of only one candidate. His heart began to hammer and he had to take a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

The car circled around the central lawn and purred to a halt outside Giles’s front door.

Giles took off his gloves and tossed them onto the wheelbarrow. His palms were damp

so he rubbed them on his jeans before striding across the lawn to where the driver was climbing out of his car.

“Giles, whatever are you doing there? You’ll get all dirty and sweaty.” Fabian

wrinkled his nose like the thought disgusted him. “You really need to hire a new gardener.”

“What do you want?” Giles demanded.

Fabian’s face fell. “Darling, there’s no need to be rude. I have some news for you.”

Giles folded his arms across his chest. He wasn’t going to succumb to Fabian’s

manipulations ever again. “Go on then. This had better be good.”

A momentary hardness flickered in Fabian’s eyes, before the imploring look was back

again.

“Now Giles, don’t be mad with me, but when you told me it was over I did something

rather rash.”

“And this concerns me how, exactly?”

Fabian sighed, wrung his hands and looked up at the sky. “I’m getting married.”

“That was quick work. Who’s the lucky man?” Giles couldn’t help the bitterness

leaking into his voice. If this turned out to be someone Fabian was seeing while he was still with Giles…