Page 133 of Fe
“I better go and finish packing. I don’t know what the weather will be like there.”
“You’re always prepared.”
“Of course! Love you. Bye.”
Fen pretended the call was ongoing. “What time do you want me there?… Okay… Please…” Fen laughed. “Hot water bottle in my bed, please… No, nothing else I can think of… Yes, to Charades. No, to Trivial Pursuit… Fine. See you tomorrow. Love you.”
He slipped his phone into his pocket. Of course, if Ripley told him he wasn’t actually going to stay with his mother in Eastbourne, all that had been for nothing and Fen would either have to confess he’d lied or do what he’d planned. But Ripley stayed silent.
“By the way,” Fen said. “Alistair put two thousand pounds in my bank account. Since that’s a bit too much for the repair of the chessboard, I assume it’s compensation for sacking me.”
“You should get more than that.”
“I’d like to think they sacked Scott but I very much doubt it. Sometimes there’s no justice in the world. I don’t know who to blame.”
Ripley laughed.
To Fen’s delight, the hot tub had reached the required temperature by nine that night. Ripley collected towels from the bathroom and took them outside along with plastic glasses and a bottle of champagne. When the door was opened, Fen shivered in the blast of cold air. It was freezing. Maybe cold enough to snow, which in one way would be lovely, but only if he was up to his neck in warm water.
Fen stripped off and slipped outside as Ripley came back in.
“Hurry!” Fen put his phone safely on a shelf under the lip outside of the tub, and climbed in, moaning as he sank down.Bliss!
Ripley gave a similar sigh as he joined him.
Jets were massaging Fen’s back and thighs and it felt perfect.
“I wish I’d thought to buy one before.” Ripley handed Fen a glass of champagne.
“Cheers.” Fen touched his drink to Ripley’s.
“Cheers.”
Fen took a sip, then set the glass aside as he stared at Ripley. Wispy tendrils of steam rose up around them, weird shapes illuminated by the underwater blue lights.
“If an alien spacecraft went overhead now, would they think we’re being cooked for supper?”
“Maybe.”
“I feel like I want to moan and keep moaning.” Fen let out a long moan, then took another drink of the champagne. He liked it more than he should.
“Neighbours either side are away. The ones at the back won’t hear unless you’re very loud.”
“I can be. You’ve not pressed the right button yet.”
“Ooh, that was a challenge if ever I heard one.”
Ripley moved both glasses out of danger, tugged Fen into his arms and kissed him, pulling him down until only their heads remained above the simmering surface. The kiss continued, Ripley’s tongue playing with Fen’s in a slow, sensual rhythm that sent bolts of lust shooting to his groin. As Ripley sucked lightly on his tongue, Fen groaned into his mouth.
With his fingers threaded in Ripley’s hair, Fen wrapped his legs around his waist and clung tight. Ripley angled Fen’s head so he could kiss him more deeply and laid his palm over Fen’s heart.
“Racing just like mine,” Ripley said.
He angled Fen back and dropped his mouth to his nipple, swirling his tongue around it and biting gently.
“Oh God,” Fen gasped. “Can I yelp?”
“Am I hurting you?”
