Page 88 of Animal Instincts
“Oi, you two, get a room…”
Ryan’s voice, laughing and good natured, broke through the bubble that had wrapped itself around them.
“Oh god, I think we’ve just made a public spectacle of ourselves.” Joss buried his face in Oliver’s chest, groaning as his man’s low laugh rumbled through him. They’d go down in Grannies’ Grapevine history.
Oliver was his man, just as he was Oliver’s. A shiver tumbled down Joss’ backbone; they had come so close to not being that to each other ever again.
“Well, my loves, I think this might call for a barley wine.”
Josh, dazed and unsteady, blinked as he looked down into Gran’s smiling face. Were those…? She dabbed at her eyes.
“Gran, are you crying?”
“No, I’m not. Somebody must be chopping onions.”
“Onions…?”
“Just go, you two. You’re holding up the evening. Vince is waiting to get his organ out, because he’s accompanying me in my solo. I’m doing a Lady GoGo number. I won’t wait up for you.”
“Gran, it’s Lady…” But Gran was already making a beeline for Vince, resplendent in his poncho and waiting in the wings.
“I think she’s right, it’s time to go,” Oliver whispered in his ear. Joss shivered at the caress of Oliver’s warm breath.
Yes, it was time to go — and very much time to stay.
FORTY-SIX
Moonlight flooded into the bedroom from a clear and cloudless sky. The storm had passed, leaving everything calm and still. Outside, an owl screeched and the church bell tolled the hours. Wrapped in the warmth of Oliver’s arms, Joss counted each ring until there were no more rings to count. Yesterday had turned into today. A new day, a new beginning. The present and the promise of a future, the past left behind them.
Joss snuggled deeper into Oliver’s embrace. As soon as they’d got back to the house, they’d tumbled into bed, holding each other tight as though fearful to let the other go.
There had been no feverish, sweaty tangle of limbs, no burning, desperate need to fuck away everything that had happened. They had needed just to hold tight, knowing they were each other’s man once more.
Joss listened to the steady thud of Oliver’s heart; he’d make it beat faster, he’d pull sighs and moans, and ragged whimpering breaths from him. Joss’ lips curved up in a dark smile as his cock began to fill. He’d make his man scream his name as Oliver came harder and stronger than he’d ever done before.
But not yet, because there was one thing they needed more.
They needed to talk.
Joss smothered a sigh. They should have talked days and days ago, days that had felt like weeks and months and years, days that had been the darkest of his life. He’d been knocked senseless by Oliver’s rejection of him, a rejection Joss now understood had its roots in Oliver’s past, and a warped and misguided sense he was doing what was best for him, believing he was helping Joss to achieve what he really and truly wanted.
Yes, they needed to talk.
Joss wriggled back, not leaving Oliver’s hold but loosening it.
“Why did you have such little faith in me?”
Joss gazed at Oliver, and waited.
Oliver exhaled a long breath before reaching out to switch on the bedside lamp, drenching the room in soft but clear light.
“No hiding in the dark, or the shadows.”
Joss’ heart clenched. Oliver looked as exhausted and wrung out as when he’d stood under the hard spotlight on the stage. Yet, it was a different man who now turned to him and met his gaze. Oliver’s eyes were sure and steady. They were resolute.
“It wasn’t you I didn’t have faith in, Joss. It was me. I—I didn’t have faith in myself.”
Oliver’s voice hitched, and for a moment he looked away. Joss waited, saying nothing, fighting not to pull Oliver to him and hold him tight, fighting not to tell him everything was fixed and right between them. Because Joss needed to know, he needed Oliver to tell him why he had dragged them to the brink.
