Page 20 of Glitterland
That seemed close enough to a yes for me to take it as one. Something that might have been relief rolled through me, though why I felt relieved that a ridiculous glitter pirate from Essex had generously consented to fuck me over my writing desk, I had no idea.
“I got some conditions though.”
So much for that. I sighed. “What conditions?”
“One,” he said, holding up a finger to illustrate the point, “you’re not allowed to make me feel like a prozzie.”
“I wasn’t proposing to pay you.”
“Shuh up. Two”—up went the second finger—“you’ve gotta say my name.”
I blinked. “While we’re fucking?”
“Just like…in general.”
“And if I agree, we can…?” An odd moment to turn self-conscious, but for some reason I couldn’t quite manage to finish the sentence.
“Yeah.” He gleamed a smile at me. “Ahwight.”
There was a pause that grew into silence that grew into a great yawning chasm. Essex was regarding me with apparently endless patience and wicked amusement in his eyes.
I stared at my shoes.
“D’you need to phone a friend?” he asked, finally. I cleared my throat. “It’s…not…it’s just…”
“Yeah?”
“There’s, well, a very slight hitch.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I shot a look at him. “Are you doing this deliberately?”
He blinked slowly. Innocently. “Doing what, babes?”
“Oh, you fucker.” I twisted my fingers together. “I can’t remember your name, okay? Okay? I’m sorry.”
He cackled. “Didn’t fink so.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Well, it’s a good job I am, cos I reckon some people would be proper mugged off.”
“Come on, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. There was no point.” He just looked at me. “I’ve said I’m sorry. What more do you want me to do? Beg?”
“Mebbe later.”
I choked on my own breath. Heat ran riot over my skin. Rather breathlessly, I said, “Good sir, may I please have the honour of your acquaintance?”
“Yeah, ahwight,” he said. “My name’s Darian Taylor.” We shook hands solemnly.
Then he grinned. “And I’m gonna make sure you nevva forget it.”
5
Later
“Oh, fuck, yes, Darian. Fuck. Darian. Like that. Please. Darian, oh Darian.”
