Page 13 of Now Comes the Dark

“Will you be back here soon?” he asked, unable to keep the note of hopeful desperation from his voice as Mallon edged him towards the door.

Mallon shrugged. “It’s likely.”

“How soon?”

“I have no idea. I travel a lot, rarely with much notice.”

“Would you like to exchange numbers? So we can keep in touch?”

Mallon shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

His words stung, but Roman hid the hurt behind a plastered smile. “That’s cool.”

“Maybe we’ll run into each other another time, but I don’t like to make promises or commit myself.” He opened the door.

Time’s up.

“I hope we do,” Roman stalled. “It was great meeting you. Well, more than great. I owe you a lot.”

Mallon’s face clouded with impatience. “Yes. Now, I really do have work.”

Roman realised the French man had no intention of kissing him, so leaned in fast and pressed his lips to Mallon’s closed mouth.

At last Mallon smiled. “You’re a handful, you know? You’re a lovely boy. I hope you find who you are looking for. In the meantime, be careful. Now that you know how dangerous it is out there, don’t get caught again.”

The door closed behind him. Regret consumed Roman all the way to the elevator. He might never see this man again.What a shame. Mallon was perfect for him in every way.Aloof, sure, and closed off, but damn, he was a sexy fucker. Roman might spend the rest of the year comparing every man he met to Mallon. He doubted anyone would fuck him that good again. After so many hollow sexual encounters, he’d finally experienced a deeper, more primal connection…with a man who lived in another country and was going home tomorrow.

By the time he reached the lobby, his regret had turned to gratitude. He might not see Mallon again, but they had shared aspecial night. Roman wouldn’t forget it in a hurry. He couldn’t say that about many of his hook-ups. The French man had left an indelible mark on his psyche.

It was a decent morning when he came out of the hotel. The sky was filled with low, grey clouds, but it was mild for the time of year. He decided to save some cash and walk home, setting out along the waterfront. It was approaching midday, and the bars and restaurants were open, geared up for their busy Saturday trade. In another hour they would be filled with the stag and hen parties that flocked to Blyham each weekend, tottering from venue to venue in their bridal veils, drinking cocktails through penis-shaped straws. Many of the loftier establishments refused entry to the party crowds, but there were enough places willing to accept them and the chaos they brought to keep them coming to the city. Roman avoided the area at the weekend, but it was early enough for him to feel safe.

He was at less risk here than the supposed secure haven of the village these days.

Since his rescue by Mallon, he’d given little thought to what had happened. Mallon had made him feel safe, protected then desired. There was nothing to fear when they were together. He wondered if the anger would hit him later. Maybe Mallon was right, and he should report the incident to the cops.

He doubted they would do much, other than add it to their statistic sheet, but maybe that was better than nothing. The more attacks that were reported, the more obvious the problem would become, so obvious they might get their fingers out of their arses and do something to protect the community.

Fat fucking chance.

If nothing else, his report might inconvenience some police officer for half an hour. That alone must make it worth doing.

Gazing at the terraces of the café bars, he imagined what it would be like to sit there and enjoy a waterfront brunch or adrink with Mallon—like a scene from a glamourous movie, not a romcom. Mallon was far too serious for that. A sexy drama, or an intense thriller… They could be undercover agents…or men from different sides meeting to exchange information.

He smiled as he walked. Mallon was having an odd effect on him. Roman didn’t romanticise the man he slept with. In most cases he didn’t give them another thought. Why should Mallon be different? He’d struck at something deep within him.

Even deeper than his cock had gone.

Roman’s grin widened farther. He’d been reluctant to take that shower earlier. He’d have liked to walk home with the scent of Mallon still on him, but he’d sweated so much with every fuck, he would stink too bad. If he squeezed his hole, it was easy to remember the feel of him in there. His arse was still tender and a little loose after all that action, and he had three loads of cum up there. Mallon’s cum.

When he got home, he could lie back and finger himself, unleashing some of that sperm. He could have a wank while the memory of the man was fresh, like he hadn’t had enough sex already.

I doubt I’d ever have enough of him.

Roman realised he was completely smitten. It was a good thing that Mallon was going away, because if he stayed, the temptation to pursue him and do it all again would be too great. He would no longer be a rational man, just someone ruled by his cock and his hole.

On the dangerous streets of Blyham, that was not a good prospect.

Chapter Six

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