Page 7 of His Dirty Obsession
I didn’t know what to say to him to make it better. He sounded disappointed and angry, definitely upset. That was clear, but he’d dictated this whole scenario. He’d taken the lead every step of the way.
“Look, Richard.”
“Don’t, Ben. Just don’t.” He turned to look at me with such sorrow in his eyes. “This isn’t all because of you. I don’t want to leave London, but if I don’t, I might never get another opportunity like this again. I have to go.”
He paused while he pulled on his briefs and trousers, and at that moment, standing there, the button on his trousers undone, he looked forlorn and sexy at the same time.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” I said and opened my mouth to continue speaking. He held up his hand.
“No, let me finish.” He took a deep breath and sat on the kitchen chair, his arms resting on the table.
“I knew we would never be more than this. More than a quick fuck now and again, but I’ve grown to…” He paused again, and I waited for those words to spill from his mouth.
“I was going to say love, but that’s not the right word. I’ve got used to you being around. Used to us being a thing.”
“Richard. We decided this was all it was ever going to be, and I suppose I feel the same, but we would never be more, and I feel like a complete prick now. You mean something to me too, but we live in different worlds. You have your corporate friends with their smart suits and high-flying jobs, and I wear my pyjamas to meetings. We would never work.”
He sighed loudly and stood, reaching for the rest of his clothes, thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his shirt.
“I know, Ben, but it doesn’t make me want you any less, and that is one of the reasons I decided to leave. The decision has been difficult. I won’t lie to you, but I need to move on from you, from us, and go make a new life.”
By now, he’d dressed, and I felt awkward still standing naked in my kitchen. I grabbed my briefs, pulling them up, almost overbalancing, before taking a step closer to him.
“I’m sorry, Richard.”
“Well, at least you’ve stopped calling me Dick.” He huffed out a small laugh, and I pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around him.
“I never wanted you to feel like this or for you to leave like this. You mean the world to me. You’ve been such a good friend,” I murmured in his ear, and I felt him sag against me before pulling away, tucking his now crumpled tie into his pocket.
“Stay in touch, Ben. I’m not moving to the other side of the world, just fucking Bath. Have you been there? You should come visit.”
He strode towards the door, his head held high, and I had to give it to him. He was handling it well. Break-ups were never easy, but considering we’d never really been together, could it really be called that?
“Message me and let me know how you get on with the hottie that came in earlier. I think he saw more than he’d bargained for. Is he the reason you’ve not been around?”
He looked hurt, and I realised that him leaving was the best thing to happen. If he stayed, we’d still be doing this six months down the line and his feelings would be even more hurt. I’d never seen myself as someone to settle down. I wasn’t built that way. Or maybe I hadn’t found the right person.
“Let me know when you get there.” I held his arm as he walked past me. “I still care, Richard, just not in the way you want me to.”
“A shame, but there it is. I’ll see you around, Ben.”
I released his arm and watched as he walked out of the door, closing it gently behind him. It could have gone better, I’ll admit. We should have talked more, but things had been so strained between us. Damn it!
A bump upstairs reminded me that Xavier was in the house, and embarrassment loomed over me like a cloud. I needed to get out of here before he saw me.
For the next few days, I avoided Xavier. Our usual breakfast ‘date’ abandoned. I couldn’t face him. It worked OK, though. I’d hear him leave early in the morning, and he rarely returned until later in the evening. We were getting good at missing each other, and as the days wore on, my humiliation faded. On the fourth day, I ventured downstairs, unsure of how either of us would react.
His door was slightly ajar as I reached it, and déjà vu hit me. I shouldn’t look. It wouldn’t be right, but when the bars of a slow song sounded from his room, the temptation became too great. I stood quietly in the doorway. I didn’t know what I expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t Xavier dancing sensually to the music. Maybe he’d got the part after all.
In the words of Shakira, his hips didn’t lie. There was a promise there, and I wanted to see more. He raised his arms above his head, grinding and gyrating to the music. I could only see him from the back, and that arse of his was damn poetry in motion.
He wore a pair of low-slung jeans that hung just right, and if he turned around, I’d see the definition in his abs, the way his happy trail led to that place I so wanted to visit.
He turned as he moved, his whole body moving sensually. Who knew he could dance like that?
I knew all too soon, though, he’d be facing the door, and my blatant appreciation of him would be discovered. I needed to move, and quickly.
In my haste, I tripped over my damn feet, almost falling down the stairs. Why did this keep happening to me?
