Page 15 of Asking For a Friend

“Where are we going?”

“My place. I don’t know where you live. Do you want to go to yours? I’m sorry. I assumed we were going to continue this evening.”

It’s a fair comment. After all, I started the flirting that got us into this car. But how far does he want to go? I’m not going to have sex with him, not on the first date. I let that happen in the past, with always the same result. I got dumped.

As if he can read my mind, he says, “I’m not expecting anything, Lando.”

“Okay.” How far is it to his place? I still need to get home tonight. Not long after, we stop in front of a semi-detached red brick house. A silver BMW is parked on the driveway.

“Thanks, mate,” Hesketh says to the driver, who says goodnight but is already checking his phone for his next job. Hesketh holds out his hand for me, and together we walk up to the navy-blue front door.

“I meant what I said, Lando. I’m not ready for this date to be over, but I’m not going to drag you to my bedroom.”

“Well, isn’t that just a damn shame?” I give him a wink. His eyes go wide, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “I’m kidding, sweetie. Are you going to open the door, or is this it?”

“I… you say things I don’t know how to reply to,” he stammers but opens the door and lets me go inside first. He flicks the light on as he closes the door. The hallway is short and has two doors leading from it. The stairs are to my left. The house is incredible. The walls are a brilliant white, but the many picture frames filled with colourful photographs brighten the stark walls, warming the space. I would never have thought to do that.

“So I noticed. You still haven’t answered me.” I unbutton my coat and shrug out of it. Hesketh takes it and hangs it up.

“Both. I switch but usually top. Are you happy now?” He grins, taking my hand again. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He leads me down the hall and into his kitchen, which actually looks as if he uses it. Not that it’s dirty or even messy. Little bottles with spices are neatly set on a shelf, while a row of cookery books occupies another shelf. It’s all very stylish, very him.

After opening the fridge, he holds up a bottle of wine. “This or I have gin and vodka in the freezer.”

“The wine, please.”

“You’re polite.”

“Ahh, that would be my mother’s fault. Good manners and appearances are extremely important to her.”

Lando didn’t hide the derision in his voice, and I can take a guess that they aren’t close. “So, you and your parents don’t get on?”

“You could say that, but I don’t want to tell you my sorry tale. I want to get to know you better.” He’s not upset by talking about them. If anything, he sounds bored.

“There’s isn’t much more to tell you. I’ve told you my parents are good people, if not a little stuck in their ways. I don’t see them much. They still live in Yorkshire.”

As I pour us each a glass of wine, Lando steps closer to me. I hand him a glass, and when he takes it, he leans in and places another kiss on my lips. It’s just as soft and fleeting as the one he gave me in the pub. It’s not enough, but I don’t deepen it. I want to, but I want him to show his hand first. If he has trust issues, I’m prepared to take it slow and prove I’m not like all his former boyfriends. Maybe it won’t go any further than tonight, but he did talk about another date, so a sliver of hope settles in my heart.

“Come with me.” I walk out of the kitchen through a side door that leads into the open living and dining room area. He seemed impressed with what he’s seen of my house so far. I hope he likes it in here too. The original parquet floor of pale oak is polished to the nth degree. It was backbreaking work with an industrial sander, but it was worth it.

“Your house is gorgeous. I’m going to have to take some of your ideas. I’ve been lazy since I bought it, working too much to spend any time making it look nice.”

We migrate to the large sectional sofa, and although he sits with me, he’s not close enough to touch. He sips his wine and looks around the room, which is a typical single man’s room. On one side of the chimney, I’ve mounted a large TV on the grey-green wall. The obligatory PlayStation and stacks of games are on a shelf unit below.

“Does your fireplace work?” The surprise at his random question must show on my face because he lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, I’m sure you’ve realised by now I tend to say what I’m thinking.”

“Hence the inappropriate statement in the pub.”

A pale blush colours his cheeks. He looks so damn cute. I want to be closer to him, and as I shift on the sofa, he does too. But not away from me. He leans forward, takes my glass, and places them both on the coffee table. “Did I embarrass you?” He brushes lightly over my lips, his breath warm, inviting.

“No, you made me horny.” I want to kiss him so badly, our first real kiss. Lando licks over his bottom lip, leaving the plump flesh damp and enticing. He leans in closer. And closer. When our mouths touch, my hand finds its way into his soft hair, the curls slipping easily through my fingers. He slides his tongue over my lips, asking for entry, for more. How can I deny him? I want more, so much more. He shifts position and kneels on the sofa over me, a dominance I didn’t expect from him. It’s hot as hell, though. I grab his hips, urging him to move. Luckily, he gets it and swings one leg over my thighs and straddles me. With him still on his knees, he hovers over me, our mouths fused together. It’s the hottest kiss I’ve ever had. We chase each other. As he retreats, I follow him, getting my first taste of his mouth. The wine is still on his tongue. I suck on it, and Lando’s answering groan shoots straight to my balls.

As he lowers himself onto my thighs, we break apart. His lips are deep red, swollen, and shining, slick from our saliva. “Damn, you’re good at that.”

I slide my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting him again. “Hmm, you too.” As he shifts to move off my thighs, I grip his arse. “No. Stay. I like you here.”

“I can tell.” He wriggles, and my erection throbs. Yeah, that’s not going away anytime soon. And neither is his. He’s as turned on as I am.

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