Page 20 of By His Side

With that in mind, I powered my computer down, retrieving my phone on the way to bed.

Felix:You realize I can see that you read these messages, right?

I undressed and climbed into bed, propping myself up against the pillows and staring at the last message. The sensible thing would be to keep ignoring them. None of them were about anything that I had to deal with professionally. Which, actually, was the perfect excuse.

Darien:You’re my client. I have to make sure there isn’t an emergency, so of course I read them. It’s my job.

Felix:There he is! And BULLSHIT!!!!!

Darien:What do you want from me?

Felix:I thought that was obvious.

Darien:Spell it out for me.

My fingers turned sweaty around my phone while I waited for the reply, the cursor seeming to flash several times and then stop, like Felix kept changing his mind about what he wanted to say.

Felix:You. Me. Naked.

I let out an unsteady breath. Nobody could accuse Felix of not being direct. He hadn’t finished, though, another message coming through within seconds.

Felix:My mother’s away tomorrow night at a charity auction in Scotland. That means I’ve got the house to myself. I’ll get the condoms and lube. You just bring yourself and that delectable body of yours.

Swallowing had become difficult, all the saliva in my mouth ceasing to be. What he was suggesting was ludicrous. Worse than ludicrous. Yet, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel tempted. I’d already broken the rules, right? What difference did it make if I broke them morethan once? No one and I mean no one turned round and said, well… never mind, it was only the once. No jury. No judge. No disciplinary board. Therefore, it was I-may-as-well-be-hung-for-a-sheep-as-a-lamb territory.

Darien:You know I can’t do that.

There. Super professional. I wasn’t a complete loss.

A long pause. No flashing cursor. Nothing.

Was that it? Disappointment gnawed at my gut. He hadn’t been that interested then. Felix had just proved that I was nothing more than a passing fancy. He’d probably already been out and picked someone up. Several someone’s. With a face and body like his, he’d be beating them off with a stick.Not if they recognize him.Yeah, there was that. But how many people realistically would take one look at him and link him to a murder that had happened eight years ago? And he might not be prepared to change his name permanently, but maybe—and it was a big maybe—he might be sensible enough not to give his full name to someone he’d only just met.

I was about to put my phone down and get some sleep when the cursor started flashing again.

Felix:Yeah, you can. It’s easy. You just get in your car, leave your hang-ups at home, and come to Hampstead.

Hang-ups! Was he for real? Did he really not see it as that big a deal?

Felix:What are you into sex-wise? Topping? Bottoming? I’m happy to do either. I’d love to fuck you or get fucked by you. Or we can take it inturns.

Jesus!He needed to back off. Except if I really thought that my cock wouldn’t be hard. And it was, the need to jerk off before I went to sleep suddenly becoming a pressing need.

Felix:Let’s say eight tomorrow, shall we?

Darien:I won’t be there.

Felix:We’ll see.

Chapter Nine

Felix

Half past seven. Thirty minutes to go. Was I confident that Darien would turn up? Not really. I’d give it a fifty-fifty chance. Those odds were still good enough that I’d shaved, showered, and dressed to look good. Not that I expected clothes to stay on for long if he turned up. But it didn’t hurt to make a good impression.

I prowled the house while I waited, wandering from room to room with no actual destination or purpose in mind. Things were still as frosty as ever between me and my mother, with her treating me more like a lodger than her son. When she couldn’t avoid a conversation, we stuck to safe topics: the weather; the cleaner’s comings and goings; things that needed doing in the garden.

Sometimes she left me a note, usually listing groceries she wanted me to get. She never signed them, like she couldn’t even bring herself to write the word Mum. Perhaps she’d convinced herself I was a lodger. Give it a few more days and she’d probably start leaving newspapersopen at the properties page with the ones available the farthest distance away circled. It hurt. I wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t. But I’d had seven years to get used to it.

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