Page 17 of Enticement
“Whores, madam. Mouth-watering man whores. They’re on special at the moment.”
Determined to find out exactly what Ross was up to, Evie returned to the kitchen and dropped the kitten into her box, before checking out of that window too. Ross stood at the bottom of the garden, huddled between their decrepit shed and the line of Norwegian Spruces. He appeared to be wearing his favourite pinstriped business suit.
“Well,” she hedged. Maybe he had something better than a kitchen quickie in mind. “Now that I think about it that does sound familiar. Perhaps if you reminded me of the order.”
“One man-whore, required for subjugation, extreme tongue gymnastics and repetitive solitary stimulation. Intercourse, verbal and otherwise, optional, but not required.” He sounded as if he were reading off a sheet. “You did request an outdoor location, but I’m afraid we only do home visits with our free samples.”
Laughing now, Evie opened the back door and made her way down the steps into the garden. “You know, I think I see him coming.”
“Oh, no,” he assured her. “He’d never do that without your express permission.”
“Ross.” She tapped him on the shoulder.
“Evie, you’re supposed to stay inside.” He hung up and pushed the mobile into his back pocket. “Honestly, woman.”
“Shh!” She slid her hand inside his jacket and up around the collar of his shirt, before teasing him with a gentle kiss.
“Evie.”
Evie grabbed him by the tie and walked him back towards the house, already planning out what to do to him. That tie would be coming off first and going back on around his wrists. She’d keep his belt fastened and just undo his fly to get out his cock, so she could see how aroused he got from licking her.
She saw Kit’s feet first, sporting a pair of black leather winklepickers. He stood at her eye-level at the top of the back door steps, holding the cat. “Both doors are open,” he said, his brow crumpled. “Are they supposed to be?” Then quickly followed with, “Oops, sorry! Guess my timing’s a bit off again,” when he caught sight of Ross. “Maybe I’ll just go make myself scarce in the shed, or my room, or something.”
“Forget it,” Evie snapped, unable to prevent her annoyance from permeating her voice. Sex was off the menu while Kit was in the house. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t standing over them, he’d still be listening, and he’d still be aware of what they were up to. For a fleeting moment she pictured him on the narrow single bed in the guest room, his leather trousers pushed down and his cock thick in his hand. She wasn’t making love to Ross with that image in her head.
“Evie,” Ross protested when she let go of his tie.
“It’ll save.” She gave him a second, sloppier kiss and patted his bum. “Why don’t you two go over to the pub and play catch up for awhile.” She stormed inside before either of them had the chance to argue.
Damn Kit! Damn him to the infernal pits of hell.
Ross gaped at the toes of Kit’s shoes for several minutes before closing his mouth. Trying to explain why the White Boar on a Saturday afternoon possibly wasn’t the best place for him and Kit to be seen would only provoke questions on a topic he had no wish to discuss. “You know your timing sucks. But then, it always did,” he said.
Kit glanced sheepishly at him and responded with a meek nod. Ross wasn’t fooled.
“You know my spidey sense tingles whenever you get your cock out,” Kit joked a minute later as they strode across the green, having first shooed the mewling kitten back into the house.
“Shame you take no notice of it, then.”
“Unfortunately, it only works over short distances, and you know I hate to miss out on seeing you in action.”
“Back off, Kit,” Ross hissed, picking up the pace. The burning prickle of high emotion trickled down his spine and through his nose, making him sneeze. It was crazy how his world could be so ordinary one day and topsy-turvy the next. He wanted to throw his arms around Kit and cling onto him, and at the same time longed to punch him in the guts for all the anguish he’d caused. Of course, he did neither. Although, maybe a muddy wrestle on the green would’ve diffused some of the rattling tension between them. Problem was, it’d probably turn into the foreplay of a bloody good shag, and that was somewhere they weren’t going, especially not with half the village likely to turn up to spectate, Evie included.
“I don’t suppose it’s changed in here,” Kit remarked, pushing open the barroom door.
Ross shook his head. As typical for a Saturday afternoon, the bar smelled of stale beer and wood smoke from the fire in the snug. A group of men were leaning over the pool table, while another set engaged in darts. Footie filled the huge screen along the back wall, and the sounds of the match boomed over the gaggle of voices. Having sidled in expecting the room to fall silent due to Kit’s presence, Ross looked around, momentarily bewildered by the lack of response.
“Let’s head into the lounge. We’ll at least be able to hear ourselves in there,” Ross muttered, before leading the way.
Pints procured, they settled at a table by the window. Kit doodled an obscene drawing in the dust on the window ledge, then scrubbed it out when a couple came in with their kids. The difficulty seemed to be in knowing where to start. In the end they mulled over Kit’s experiences in Japan and his plans for Rose Cottage, all of which hinged on Kit being mobile, since he planned on doing a lot of the work himself. “There’s a big car second-hand dealership out towards Harrogate,” Ross said. “We could all go over there tomorrow and see if we can pick something up.”
“Is that you, Christopher Skye?” The interruption turned both their heads. Expecting trouble, relief washed through Ross’s chest like the first rush of desire when he recognized the old lady hobbling towards them. Her young companion remained by the bar, in embarrassed shock. “It is you, isn’t it? Good grief, you need a haircut. Can’t see your eyes behind that overgrown frippery.”
Kit slid off his chair and stood to greet her. “Yes, Doris. It’s me. It’s good to see you.”
“Hm, well I can’t imagine why you’d think that. I seem to recall you scampering off as fast as you could in the past, afraid an old lady might hamper your style. Laura’s just the same. She only brings me over here because her mum twists her arm. Amazing what the young folks will do for twenty quid. My great-granddaughter, Laura.” She nodded towards the girl at the bar, who winced and dipped her head to concentrate on sucking up the Technicolor fruit and vodka drink she had sat before her, clearly embarrassed at having been caught checking them out.
“Don’t you even think about it, my girl. He’s far too old for you,” Doris bellowed, at which the girl slunk off towards the toilets. In all fairness, Ross could see why she had to be bribed into playing escort. “We don’t normally do Saturdays. Sunday’s our day,” Doris continued, in a hideously loud whisper. “But the boyfriend stood her up. Complete waste of space he is.”
