Page 154 of Not That Ridiculous

His lips lifted slowly at one corner as his eyelids lowered and that intensely sexual look I’d first seen in the mirror at the gym took over his sweet face. “Yeah,” he said. “We can do that. Are we done talking?”

“Yes!” I said. Then, “No. Fuck. Okay. Wrapping up. I love you. I want you in my life on a permanent basis. This isn’t casual. I don’t date, I don’t do relationships. I’ve never wanted to, but…I want you. This is it for me. You’re it for me. As in, we’re not dating, we’re together. Like…like Adam and Ray are together.”

Kevin’s dark eyes were steady on mine. When I stuttered to a halt, he nodded encouragingly.

“As in…” I said, and petered out again.

“As in?” he prompted me.

“Can you just let me know what you think so far about that before I embarrass myself further?”

“I’m on board. Hundo percent.”

“Right. Excellent.” My mouth dried up. “As in, the way I see it is, I’m going to eventually ask you to move in with me.”

He nodded. “I’ll say yes. When you do ask me. I’ll say yes to everything.” He contemplated me for a moment. I found it hard to maintain eye contact, but I managed. He was the one to look away. He also let go of my wrists and peeled his body off mine, making me whine with disappointment before I shut myself up. “Can I show you something?”

“Please do,” I said flirtily.

I was expecting him to unzip and show me his dick, not for him to peck me on the lips and stride over to the small coffee table. He picked something up and came back to where I was leaning against the wall, not trusting my legs to hold me up. He held it out.

Curious, I took it off him. It was a three-ring, A4 binder. I flipped it open, and kept on flipping through the pages.

There was a floor plan, exterior elevations and a map. There was a budget, a page of jotted calculations, a few pages torn out of a B&Q catalogue. A couple of paint-chip colour cards. A mind-mapped brainstorm for every single room.

It was my house.

“Oh,” I said softly, and flipped to the back.

No, my mistake. It wasn’tmyhouse. According to the black biro scribbles, it was the house of Mr Charlie and Mr Kevin Galloway.

Mr Charlie and Mr Kevin Wallis-Galloway.

Galloway-Wallis.

Gawollis.

Walloway.

Wagollis.

Things started to really unravel when Phil Wagollis the Mountain Huskland got in on it halfway down the page.

“It’s all still in the planning stage,” Kevin said. “But that’s what I’m thinking for the future. In case it helps.”

I stepped into him, reached up, and kissed him. “It does.”

His lips curved against mine. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He took the binder off me and dropped it on the floor.

“Oh,” I said. “Don’t drop it, I—uhn. Oh. Oh shit. Kevin.Whatare youdoing?”

He looked up at me from where he was kneeling at my feet, fingers busy with my fly while he was gnawing at my cloth-covered dick. Gently. Gnawing gently. But those were definitely teeth, right there, with enough pressure to lift the hairs at the back of my neck and all along my arms in a heady rush.

He didn’t bother replying. He stared at me, eyes three shades darker than usual thanks to his blown pupils, and got my trousers undone with truly impressive speed. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my boxers and took the lot down to the floor with one firm slide.

---