Page 9 of Imperfect Skin

“Thank you, I will. Ben identifies as a boy, but he has a love for all the pretty things, and I don’t want my parents taking that away from him.”

“Alice always looks like she has been in an explosion in a paint shop, and that girl has never met an outfit she couldn’t make her own. I’m sure your Benji is in good hands. Just don’t be surprised if even more lime green and hot pink turns up in his wardrobe,” Callum answered, chuckling.

“Oh, I’m already seeing it. Well, I better get back to Doc. I was supposed to be protecting him from ‘that blasted hairdresser’, whoever that is.” Anne smiled and headed back to where Doc was standing glaring at Peregrin.

“Well, she seems a nice sort,” Callum said, and I had to agree. “So, do you fancy a dance then, keep the kids happy?” he asked.

“Okay.” Fuck. I didn’t think this through.

“Don’t look so scared. I promise I won’t step on your feet too much.” Callum gripped my elbow, gently leading me to the centre of the hall where a small dance floor had been made.

I wanted to feel indignation at Callum accusing me of being scared. I wasn’t scared. I could dance. It was just dancing close, our bodies against one another, that gave me pause.

Thankfully the music was upbeat and fast, and the kids danced around us like colourful whirlwinds, giggling and talking up a storm. Some of the other youngsters joined them.

Their youthful exuberance was almost contagious. I smiled despite myself and danced around them, smirking as Callum shook his hips and performed outlandish dance moves.

Rhys was off to one side, rosy-cheeked and laughing, holding onto Simon. They both looked so damn happy. I was happy for them, overjoyed that they had each other, but I couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy at what they had.

It was a foolish dream, and one I’d thought I’d given up on a long time ago. Even when I’d gotten with Ziggy, it hadn’t been love—well, not at first. It had been a need for something more than the loneliness that had curled up inside my head and heart. I’d needed to feel wanted and desired, and for a short time I had with Zig, until I realised I would never be enough, or what he truly wanted. But I’d still stayed and settled for what he was willing to give me, not feeling like I deserved better. That was until I found him fucking a barely legal twink in our bed. He’d had the gall to smirk and ask if I wanted to join. It had hurt knowing I’d never been more than a warm body, and it had messed with my head, which was a messy place to start with.

I’d never felt like I was worth the bother. Like I was too much and not enough all in the same breath. I supposed I still felt like that. I’d tried talking to a therapist once about it and the feelings I carried from the crash, but it had felt wrong sharing those things and talking about my guilt. Those were my feelings alone, to deal with or not.

Rhys and Simon had found each other, and for that I was happy. Those annoying, pesky feelings it stirred in me, the sense of longing I felt when I looked at Callum, well, they could be shoved down deep and buried. I’d done it most of my adult life, and I saw no sense in stopping now.

Two

CALLUM

Iwatched Mouse swaying to the music, his deep brown eyes lost in thought while the youngsters danced around him. The music changed to a slow melody, one made for dancing close, and I glanced over at Simon and saw he was doing just that, Rhys nestled in his arms.

Sappy bastard that he was, he saw me looking and grinned like a big, orange cat who’d not only stolen the saucer of cream, but the whole damn bottle.

I couldn’t think of two people more perfectly suited. I glanced over to see Mouse looking in the same direction, his expression wistful. Mouse was a barrel of contradictions. Infuriating and blisteringly funny, moody and giving. I’d given up trying to understand the man years ago, and now I was beginning to think I’d done him and me a disservice.

I was fond of him. I’d never made any bones about that. But of late, I’d found myself watching him with more than a platonic gaze. Having Mouse move in with Alice and me after his split from Ziggy had been a spur of the moment decision. Seeing him at the pub, drunk and depressed, I’d had to do the right thing.

I was surprised how easily he slipped into our household, bonding quickly with Alice, even offering to pick her up from school when my mum or I couldn’t. He was still argumentative and given to darker moods, but he kept them hidden, or tried to. I’d become good at reading him in the years since he’d been a bratty, fun-loving, young teenager hanging around at the shop wanting to learn how to tattoo and pierce.

He’d changed after the crash. The death of his mum had affected him deeply. He’d gone back to art school, and I understood why. He’d needed a distraction from the loss of his mum and the guilt he probably felt, and he’d needed to be away from his dad and Simon.

When he’d come back to Tewsbury with Ziggy in tow, he was a changed man. He was missing some of that cheeky brat, the young man who’d flirted and sassed me when he was younger, who was always up for a laugh and teased his brother mercilessly.

Over the last year, I’d started to see his spark coming back. Him leaving Ziggy had been a bonus. I’d never hidden my dislike for the guy. Mouse was too good for that shiftless wanker.

Mouse stirred feelings in me that had been dormant for a long time. When he sassed me or did something bordering on bratty, the urge to put him over my knee and spank some sense into him was getting stronger. It had been years since I’d had a submissive of my own, not just one of Club Crimson’s sweet subs. Mostly they were darling boys who enjoyed a good spanking or a turn with my paddle, but few of them craved what I really wanted to give them.

Shaking my head, I had to laugh. Mouse didn’t have a submissive bone in his body—well, as far as I knew. Simon said he was more than accepting of Rhys’s Little side, and even spent time with Rhys when he was in Little space.

Looking over at him dancing slowly with Alice, I could admit, at least in the privacy of my own head, that he’d grown into a sexy man. One, if things weren’t so complicated, that I would happily fuck until the only thing he could think about was my cock in his arse. But life was complicated, and I had Alice and the shop to think about, not to mention the close to twenty-year age gap between us. All those reasons didn’t stop me wanting him.

I had a handle on this though. It would be fine.

Without thinking, I made my way to Mouse who was slowly rocking to the haunting voice of Sinéad O’Connor. I leaned in close. “You saving this dance for anyone special? Or can I cut in?” Mouse opened his eyes and blinked at me. It was nearly impossible not to get lost in those dark depths. Up this close to Mouse, our difference in height was really noticeable. The top of his head barely brushed my collar. He looked up at me and smiled, a faint twist of his lips, soft and genuine.

“If you want, though I’m pretty shit at slow dancing.”

I slid my arm around his waist and pulled him against me as we rocked slowly to the music. I could hear Mouse singing softly along to the song.

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