Page 66 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

“You’re such a dark horse. I would never have expected you to be so…”

“Kinky? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

Everett cocks his head to the side and lets his gaze roam over my body. “Maybe, but I was more thinking of forward, confident, amazing, and yeah, maybe a little kinky. Which I hadn’t expected.”

He takes my arms and pulls me down for a kiss. Tongues tangle and hands roam, but the loud growl of my stomach interrupts the moment. Everett smiles against my mouth as he lets go of my arse.

“Ignore it. Put your hands back there,” I grumble against his lips, grabbing his hands to put them back on my bum.

“I’ve already had my hands there, and if you’re not careful, they’ll be turning your skin bright red.” He keeps his hands on my arse, the tips of his fingers resting on the curve at the top of my thighs.

I moan and squirm at the idea of his calloused hands smacking the tender skin. He tightens his grip. “Oh, you’d like that. My little kitten likes to be spanked. I’ll remember that, but now it’s time to get cleaned up and have something to eat. I invited you for dinner if you remember.”

I jut my lip out, but he only chuckles and leans in to bite it. Not hard but enough for the sting to work its way to my dick. Everett gently pulls at my lip and slaps my arse. Yelping, I jerk back. With a devilish grin, he runs his hand over the spot soothingly, then smacks me again, a little harder this time.

Before I can react, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and, without any sign of exertion, picks me up and carries me into his bathroom.

Of course it’s as impressive as the bedroom. Instead of putting me down on my perfectly useable two feet, he sits me on the sink vanity unit. He wanders over to the taps in the wet room part. Hot water gushes out of the different showerheads that seem to be pointing in every direction. Steam quickly fills the room, and when Everett walks back to me, his hand outstretched, I hop down and take his hand.

“You don’t do anything on a small scale, do you?” I let him pull me under the water.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite a big man. I like my space, so when I built this house, I made sure I had big enough rooms not to feel cramped. There are certain things I like that are small, though.” He tips my head back. “I love that you’re smaller than me.” He kisses me again.

I’ll never have enough of his lips on me, and when he glides his hands over my body, I lean into him and wrap my arms around his neck. Our tongues stroke and curl around each other until I need to move back and take a breath. “God, you’re going to kill me.”

He gives me an indulgent look and grabs the soap. “I won’t let that happen, kitten.”

We take turns soaping up each other’s bodies, talking and laughing the whole time. He strokes me through another orgasm, and I drop to my knees and return the favour. I can’t remember ever having so much fun with a man.

When we’re dried off and dressed again, Everett leads me out of the bedroom. “Would you like a tour or food?”

I glance around the wide landing and the four closed doors. Whatever’s in there can wait. “Food, please.” As if agreeing, my stomach grumbles again.

“Let’s go, then. What would you like? Are you too hungry to wait for me to cook, or do you want a takeaway?”

“What did you want to make? I mean, if you plan on a sit-down roast, I prefer a takeaway, but if you’re thinking pasta, thatwill probably be ready before a delivery can get here. I can help. I cook a lot when Mum’s not feeling too good.”

His laughter fills the hallway as we walk into the kitchen, but mine dries up when I see the huge room. It takes up the whole back of the house, with large glass doors leading to the garden, which is lit up by the late evening sun. He obviously likes to spend time outside. There are loungers and an area with a table and chairs around a fire pit. To the side stands a large barbecue grill, but no gas bottle. He must cook with charcoal, which is so much better.

“Wine?” He holds up a bottle of Gavi. A wine I love but can’t afford very often. I nod and look out the window again. When he stands next to me, he hands me the glass and faces out too. “Do you want to eat outside? I can put the heaters on.”

I shake my head and take a sip of the perfect wine. “No, it’s okay. Inside is fine. Another time, though, I’d love to. I’m hoping I’ll need the energy for later.” I give him a wink, and he chuckles.

Cooking with Everett is fun. We mess about, laughing and sharing kisses as the diced chicken and veggies cook in the tomato and chilli sauce. But as he drains the pasta and stirs the sauce, he goes quiet. Something is wrong. Have I done something to upset him or to make him change his mind? When I give him a nudge with my shoulder, he breaks out of his reverie and gives me a gentle look that eases my panicking mind.

“Sorry, kitten, I was miles away for a moment.” He scoops up the bowls of food and takes them to the kitchen table. I follow with the grated parmesan and some garlic bread he found in his freezer.

“Are you going to share it, whatever it is, with me?” I twirl my fork into the strands of linguine. Hopefully, I appearnonchalant when, really, I’m a nervous wreck. “Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”

A heavy crease appears between his eyebrows and across his forehead. “No, kitten, I was just thinking how different this evening has been compared to what I thought would happen. And before you ask, it’s exceeded all expectations. You’re full of surprises. The shy young man I met a few months ago has gone.”

“Do you prefer me shy? I can be your shy boy if you like.” I wink at him.

“Yeah? I’d like to see that.”

We’re stretched out on the couch, Noah lying in front of me with our legs tangled together. He yawns for the second time, covering his mouth with his hand. “Sorry, Ev, you wore me out.”

My chest swells with warmth at his abbreviation of my name. It’s the second time he’s used it. I don’t think he’s even noticed. He’s relaxed, his body supple, melded to mine as if we’ve been doing this for years. Something I can only hope could happen. “C’mon, kitten, time for bed.” I stroke down his arm.

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