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“I’m not a contortionist like you.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” Fen tipped his head back and looked at him through his thick eyelashes and Ripley would have wrapped his legs around his neck if he’d been able to. Then Fen was licking at the base of Ripley’s cock and over his balls and beyond and Ripley’s lungs locked. The noises Fen was making were hitting Ripley straight in the gut. It felt so good.
Then when he thought it couldn’t get any better, Fen slid a finger inside him too, curling it and feeling for his prostate and finding the thing and caressing it until Ripley was making sounds he didn’t recognise and couldn’t have held back even if he’d wanted to. Somehow Fen was still massaging Ripley’s cock and doing all this…stuff at the same time and Ripley knew he was going to come.
In an act of perfect timing, Fen pulled his finger free, came up on his knees and wrapped his slender fingers around both of them. As they came within seconds of each other, Ripley pulled him down for a kiss.
24
Ripley tried not to smile as Fen glared at him.
“I don’t need a nap,” Fen said through gritted teeth. “I’m not a little kid.”
“You’ve worked non-stop since the arrival of that supermarket delivery. You told me all the food prep’s been done and you’re dead on your feet. Go and lie down.”
Fen slid into his arms and wriggled against him. “Come with me?”
Ripley moaned. “Don’t tempt me. If I come up with you, you won’t rest. Anyway, I have to sort the alcohol. Please, go and lie down. I want you dancing on the table tonight and I don’t wantI’m tiredas an excuse.”
Fen rolled his eyes but went upstairs.
It didn’t take Ripley long to put the champagne and white wine in the wine fridge. Beer was chilling in buckets of ice he’d put on the patio. Glasses were set out on the work surface along with plates, serviettes and cutlery. Ripley looked around. Everywhere was tidy, but it looked…wrong.
They were throwing a party. It was Christmas. And there was no tree. Not a decoration in sight. Christmas cards had been read, then dropped into the recycling bin. Fen had seen him do it and said nothing. But he’d be thinking plenty even though he knew why Ripley didn’tdoChristmas.
But Fen did celebrate Christmas. So did Ripley’s friends.
Maybe he’d let this go on for long enough.
He went up to the second-floor storeroom where he kept his suitcases among other things. At the back, was a bag containing the Christmas tree Alejandro had insisted they buy. Next to it were a couple of boxes of decorations. Ripley made two trips to get everything downstairs.
First thing he did was plug the tree in because if the lights were no longer working, he’d give up on the whole idea. But the lights worked, pretty soon the tree was slotted together, standing at the side of the folding glass doors, and already the room looked better.
Decorating it proved more difficult because of the way memories flooded back. How Alejandro had kept moving the baubles Ripley had hung, how Ripley moved them back when he wasn’t looking. They’d laughed and…Why hadn’t I seen how unhappy he was?
But he hadn’t and Alejandro was dead and he was alive.
Ripley knew Fen would enjoy doing this with him but somehow, he felt he needed to do it on his own, as if it was his battle to fight, his own personal demon to defeat, or whatever was putting that weight on his chest. Finally, the tree was done, the silver star shining at the top and he’d even hung strings of fairy lights around the garden and along the roofline of the summer house. Now all he needed to do was ask Fen to stay over Christmas. Except Fen was going to his mother’s. But he’d be back on Boxing Day and…
Shit!I have no presents for him.
Thank you, Amazon Prime.
A few hours later, Ripley had done everything he needed to. He’d even walked to the high street and bought a wreath for the front door. While he was attaching it, he saw Sandra and her husband packing their people carrier with cases, black bags and a cool box. She came over to him.
“Merry Christmas,” Ripley said, and—oh look!—the sky didn’t fall.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Is there enough room for the children?”
The three were being herded into the rear seats along with Annie.
“Barely. To be honest, I was tempted to sayleave me behind. I could do with the rest. We’re off to my brother’s until the New Year. Would you keep an eye on the house, please?”
“Absolutely.”
“Are the Baranovs back yet?”
