Page 47 of Full Service

“More than OK.” Hywel reached down between us to stroke his own cock and I watched greedily before pulling back and thrusting gently back in.

“Harder,” he moaned. He kept his other hand at the back of my head so that we were forehead to forehead. I had my own arms braced just above his shoulders, supporting my weight as I thrust harder and faster. My arms were almost black with tattoos and contrasted totally with his bare ones. Sweat was beading up between our lips as I kissed him, and every now and then a thrust would hit at that perfect angle that would stop him in his tracks for just a second. His mouth would still and open and he’d moan and I knew I was doing a good job. I looked down at his hand as he stroked himself, pushing into the deep heat of his body like it was the last thing I’d do.

And then I heard as he groaned and watched as he came all over his stomach. The sight of it pushed me closer to orgasm and in just a couple of thrusts I was done spending myself inside him with a guttural groan I didn’t even know I was capable of. He was mine. I leaned down to kiss him once more. My arms were hurting from bracing myself against the bed and I could smell the sex and sweat in the air.

“That…” I started, but couldn’t bring myself to finish. I just kissed him again. When the sensitivity of being inside him got too much I reluctantly pulled out. I held out my hand to him as I stood, and pulled him up to a standing position. “Shower?” I asked.

“Gladly.” Hywel took a step forward and winced, and I tried not to look too smug about it. As we stepped from the bedroom to the living room something caught Hywel’s eye at the foot of the bed. “What’s that?” he leaned down.

I hoped beyond all belief that he wasn’t referring to the box of shame that I kept under the bed. Now wasnotthe time to start playing around with toys.

Instead, when Hywel straightened up, he had Calvin’s business card that had fallen from my pocket. “Oh, fancy new client?”

And then it clicked into place. “I’m an idiot,” I said.

“We’ve established that many times, what does that have to do with anything?” Hywel grinned.

“Shut up. No, listen. You said you thought of the car as a millstone round your neck, right?”

Hywel hesitated. “It has kinda started to feel like that anyway.”

“So…” I explained to him the situation with Calvin and Marjorie, and I watched as his face morphed from confusion to something like joy. Maybe.

“So you took me home thinking I was destitute all the while knowing I had an asset that someone was willing to pay a hell of a lot of money for?” Hywel asked. There was a grin playing round the corners of his mouth, but I knew it was still a kind of serious topic.

“Well when you put it like that…” I scratched at my bear nervously. “Though I can’t believe you, as an experienced and clever investor, drove all the way here in a two-hundred thousand pound car just to try and make fifty grand off the sale of some buildings.”

“Guess I’d never thought of it like that before,” Hywel said. “Perhaps I’m stupid.”

“Educated fool,” I joked. “Though with that kind of money…would you…” I let the question hang in the air.Would you go back to London? Would you leave me?

Hywel understood. He wrapped both arms around me and held me close. It felt like the most intimate moment of my life, stood there naked with him. No sex, no kisses even. Just the warmth of his body. “I’m staying,” he said. “I need a fresh start.”

Chapter Thirteen

Hywel

December 25th- Christmas Day

“Nadolig Llawen!” shouted an overly familiar voice, waking me up from restful sleep. No light came from the windowless curtains so I knew it must be bloody early. Silhouetted in the doorway, a dark shadow in the doorway, was Uncle Prentis.

I propped myself up on both elbows as I waited for my eyes to adjust. The little single bed at Prentis’ wasn’t the most comfortable in the world, but it was better than the sofa.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten that much for the church Christmas collectionagain,” I said. On his back he was carrying a massive bag filled to the brim with brightly wrapped packages.

“No,” said Uncle Prentis, switching the light on in the room and throwing the bag down with athumponto the end of my bed. “Some of these are for you.”

I felt a lump start to grow in my throat. “But…you know I couldn’t afford much for you, right? I will, once the car stuff comes in. Just for now, I’m…”

“I know, son. I don’t give to receive, especially at Christmas.” Prentis gave a warm smile and I sat up, looking at the presents that he’d taken out of the sack.

I opened each in turn. Each package was soft and squishy. A new warm jumper, a few shirts and a pair of suit trousers that felt expensive. Finally, he held out a tiny package which was fiddly to unwrap.

Inside was a small black box. “You can’t propose, I’m your nephew,” I joked.

“Shut up,” said Uncle Prentis quietly. “Take a look.”

Inside the box, to little surprise, was a plain gold ring. There was nothing special about it as such, but it was old - obviously so based on the scratches and dents that covered its surface. I recognised it instantly and felt my eyes start to well up.

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