Page 18 of Fe
“It isn’t catching,” Fen said through gritted teeth.
“I know. I…I thought I might be hurting you.”
“You weren’t. If you had been, I’d have said something.”
But the touch from either hand didn’t return.
“What type?” Ripley asked.
“Becker muscular dystrophy.”
“I think I like the idea of a shark attack better.”
That made Fen laugh. Briefly, anyway. “Me too as long as it didn’t eat me.”
“I have a morbid fear of sharks,” Ripley said. “They may be perfectly friendly creatures in general, though they don’t look it, but I assume the moment I step into the sea there’s a whole squad of them who sense prey has entered their world, and immediately zoom my way.”
“More people die from being stung by a jellyfish.”
“I don’t like them either.”
“Me neither.”
Ripley sighed. “I didn’t mean to make light of what you told me. I’m sorry it’s part of your life. It must make things difficult.”
“Some things, yes, but it is what it is. I’m not strong and I get tired, but I’m not in constant pain. I’m tired now.” Fen looked out of the window. He had no idea where they were. Nothing looked familiar.
When he turned back, Ripley closed the gap between them. He brushed his lips across Fen’s, then ran his tongue along the crease and kept licking until Fen let him inside. The first kiss and Ripley groaned.Oh my God. He groaned!But even as Ripley deepened the kiss and explored his mouth, Fen was thinkinghe doesn’t mean this, he feels sorry for me.Only to immediately follow that with the thought that Ripley wasn’t the type to do anything he didn’t really want to do.
The more Fen was kissed, the more he stopped thinking, and the harder and further he fell. This wasn’t just a press of lips, but a kiss saying Ripley couldn’t get enough of him, a kiss that lit up Fen’s dark world.
Ripley plunged his tongue into Fen’s mouth and Fen dissolved. He knew this man was a mass of contradictions. Hard and soft, cold and hot, serious and funny, rude and polite. He also suspected sex with him would likely be the best he’d ever had, maybewouldever have. Ripley kept himself so tightly controlled in his daily life, hehadto come undone when he was with someone, didn’t he?
Fen could feel that happening now; the coming apart. He could feel Ripley’s pulse racing like his own, hear it in the sound of Ripley’s breathing, feel it in the press of his body. He began to rethink thenot letting him up to my room.Ripley was attracted to him and that thrilled Fen. Liking him could happen later.
Then as suddenly as the kiss had started, it stopped. Ripley moved back, straightened the sleeves of his jacket and pulled his coat onto his lap. The only thing betraying what had happened, was a slight flicker across Ripley’s face, as if he’d surprised himself. A moment later, the car stopped moving. Fen could feel himself shaking.
“My driver will take you back.” Ripley got out with his coat, and closed the door. The privacy screen went down.
It took a moment for Fen to come to his senses. He was flooded with embarrassment and hot on its heels came annoyance.What the fuck had that been about?For a stupid moment he thought about asking the driver if this was Ripley’s MO, but instead, he stayed silent, curled up on the back seat.
He spent the rest of the journey trying to figure things out. The conclusion he came to didn’t make him very happy. Ripley had been going to ask him in but after hearing about the BMD, he’d changed his mind. Rather than look like a complete bastard by sayingthis isn’t going to work,he’d gone for being a not-quite-such-a-complete bastard and kissed him to show he wasn’t… Wasn’t what? Totally put off?When he is really?
It made Fen feel angry and hurt, but there was no point fretting about it. This was why he never wanted to tell anyone about his condition, because of reactions like this. He wouldn’t waste another thought on him. Well, maybe one or two when he was in bed and needed some inspiration, a vision of a domineering alpha male ordering him around and Fen resisting. For a while. Even better if he could get Ripley to do whathewanted.Oh look. It’s snowing in hell.
“What number?” the driver asked when they reached Peckham.
“Anywhere here is fine,” Fen replied quietly.
“Mr Belmont will want to know I’ve delivered you back safely.”
Really?“You have. Please stop the car. I’d like to get out.”
The driver pulled up. Fen grabbed his coat and crutch, and struggled onto the pavement. The driver’s window was down.
“Thank you for the lift.” Fen fastened up his coat, and set off in the opposite direction to his place. Only when he saw the car pass him and turn left at the traffic lights, did he swivel round and head back.
He didn’t break down until he was in his room. He never let anyone see him cry—ever. Though he rarely cried these days. He’d got all that over with when he was first diagnosed and understood what his future would look like. Even in his teens, he’d realised self-pity was destructive. How could he ever be happy once he’d yielded to it? So he hadn’t. Feeling sorry for himself was a mistake then and it was now.
