Boats in the night (4 page)

“Sorry. No, I’ll be fine.” Giles took a gulp of wine to calm himself. Then he looked at the glass, and before he could think what he was doing, he tipped it onto the grass. Smutty looked on with his eyebrows raised as Giles followed with the other glass and then the bottle.

It glugged as it emptied, the sound stirring up Giles’s blood. He never acted this impulsively, and the reckless daring of the act made him light-headed.

Maybe he could manage one evening without alcohol’s numbing comfort. At least

until he got back to the house and his well-stocked cellar anyway, as the thought of trying to find sleep without any help was terrifying. He wasn’t as strong as Smutty, who could just sit there and watch all that fine wine being wasted without a flicker of emotion.

The scent of wasted Bordeaux wrapped itself around them in their little circle of

firelight. Giles looked out over the canal, the water’s surface luminous in the gloaming. There was something magical about this time of evening when the sky still held an echo of daylight, yet the early stars shone brightly. He hadn’t been down here at this time of day for years.

He’d have to do better in the future.

“Penny for them?” Smutty asked gently.

Giles rather liked his voice. It wasn’t cultured, but there was warmth there, as if he were constantly on the brink of joyous laughter. That reminded him…

“Why did you laugh? There I was, baring my soul and you just laughed at me.” It

stung, now Giles thought it through properly.

Smutty gave him an enigmatic smile. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Giles nodded. Best to get it over and done with. He didn’t want to find himself sharing any more confidences with a bigot.

“It just reminded me of my own coming out speech to Starlight. I was so bloody

awkward, and she just laughed. I suddenly realised why, that’s all.”

Smutty grinned and something inside Giles fluttered. “So you’re gay too? I couldn’t

tell. You don’t look gay.” Giles willed himself to shut up before he said something really stupid, but the babbling wouldn’t cease. “Not that I can usually tell by looking anyway. Or maybe you’re bi? I didn’t mean to imply bisexuality isn’t an equally valid…” Finally Giles’s mouth obeyed his brain and he waited to see how much of a prat he’d made of himself.

Smutty chuckled. “I’ve messed around with women in the past but I always end up

coming back to men. I don’t know what that makes me, but I think of myself as gay if that’s any help.”

Giles nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The mysterious fluttering inside him

seemed to be gaining in strength as he gazed at Smutty’s open expression. He wasn’t used to honest people and it caught him off guard.

“Now that’s out of the way, can we just relax for a bit?” Smutty asked. “If you

promise to keep calm, I’ll tell you all about my dad, all right?”

“Your father? Was he the one you, uh, was he a…” Giles floundered, searching for the politically correct term. Fabian would have said something offensive and outdated like

‘darkie’, although perhaps not to Smutty’s face. Then it came to him. “A person of colour?”

“I suppose so, but aren’t we all? Right now, you look kind of red.”

Giles flushed further. “You know what I meant,” he muttered.

Smutty grinned. “Yeah, but it’s fun to yank your chain. I’ve never seen anyone turn

quite that shade before.”

Giles rose, intending to head back to the house and open another bottle.

“Hey, chill out, would you? I didn’t mean nothing by it.” Smutty smiled ingratiatingly and reached out to squeeze Giles’s hand.

The momentary contact grounded Giles. Smutty wasn’t Fabian, and his mockery

wasn’t intended to hurt, it seemed. Maybe he did need to unwind. He sat down heavily and stared into the brazier, wondering if he could blame his colouring on the firelight.

“He was Maori. Starlight met him in Byron Bay. That’s in Australia,” Smutty added

after Giles frowned. “I think he was a traveller like her. Their paths crossed for that one night and I was conceived on the sand under the stars.” Smutty gave a wry smile. “It’s pretty romantic, the way she tells it, even if she never did find out his full name. Called himself Tan, which is probably short for Tangaroa, but I don’t know anything more about him.”

“You’ve never even met him?” Giles gaped. “I can’t imagine not having known my

father.”

“I don’t even know if he’s still alive. I’ve got nothing to go on. But that’s okay, you know. Better to have it that way than to know for sure that he’s a bastard.”

“Couldn’t you try and find him?”

“I go travelling Down Under every winter, but without knowing his tribe or a surname

—well, he could be anywhere, couldn’t he?” Smutty shrugged and moved his expressive gaze to the fire. “If he had itchy feet he’s probably somewhere completely different. For all I know he could be living in New York or Paris or even the next village.”

“There aren’t any Maoris in Upper Nunney,” Giles said emphatically. “There aren’t

even any Pakistanis or Chinese.”

Smutty raised his eyebrows. “Oh, and you’d know would you?” Irritation crept into

his voice. “Checked out the exact ethnic make-up of the area before moving here, did you?

Tried to find the whitest town in the whole country?”

“That’s not what I meant! And I grew up here, so it’s hardly a choice.” Giles bristled under Smutty’s sceptical gaze. “My ex kept an eye on that sort of thing. Said it affected the property prices. He was only looking after my interests. Financially, I mean.”

“Your ex sounds like a real piece of work.” Bitterness warped Smutty’s voice.

For some reason Giles felt the need to defend Fabian. “He’s just old-fashioned. He has traditional values.”

Smutty snorted. “So that’s what you call it, is it? Traditional values? I suppose that makes it all right to be a racist snob.” He rose from his chair. “I’ve had enough of this conversation. Night Giles. I’ll be out of your hair before long, so you needn’t worry about your property being devalued.”

Giles stood so quickly the chair fell over. “Wait! I’m not racist. Please don’t go off believing that. I don’t think I’m any better than you.”

“And you reckon just saying that makes it true, do you?” Smutty’s lips twisted in a

frown, marring his beauty. “Just leave it, mate. If you’re not capable of opening your mouth without causing offence, you should probably keep it closed.”

Giles stepped in Smutty’s path. He felt reckless, his heart beating wild and fierce like tribal drums. When Smutty made to walk around him, he grabbed two handfuls of the man’s shirt. “If I were racist, would I do this?” he asked, before leaning forward and planting a kiss on Smutty’s lips.

Chapter Five

The contact only lasted a moment, just long enough to sear Giles’s lips and send fire blazing through his veins. He pulled back, about to apologise yet again when he caught the look in Smutty’s eyes. There was surprise there, and a lingering irritation, but definitely something encouraging too. Something that looked an awful lot like desire.

It had been a long time. Things had been going wrong with Fabian for months before

they finally split. Sod it. A man had needs.

He wasn’t going risk talking again. Not now. But that didn’t mean he had to keep his mouth closed. Giles leant in and pressed another kiss against Smutty’s lips. This time there was the slightest response. A twitching movement and a sound that was equal parts startled and turned on. At least, Giles hoped it was that and not the prelude to a rejection.

“Giles, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Giles released his grip on Smutty’s shirt and slipped his arms

around that slim waist.

Smutty stepped back, but Giles kept hold of him and he didn’t get far.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Smutty breathed, but he didn’t sound convinced. “We’ve

only just met and I’m working for you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” The drumming of Giles’s pulse intensified as he bent in again,

tugging on Smutty to bring him close. And this time there was a response. This time that slim body became pliant, those lips parted to his tongue, and the heat built between them until Giles’s blood was like magma, burning him up from the inside out. Smutty seemed to melt against him, the low sounds in his throat spurring Giles on.

Panting, Giles broke for air. “Come up to the house with me.”

Smutty shook his head. “No way.” He looked dazed but determined.

“Come on.” The fire inside ignited Giles; woke up drives long stifled by the narrow

confines of his life. “We could just talk, if that’s what you want.”

At that, Smutty gave a crooked smile. “Not sure how well that would work out, given

our track record.”

“Please.”

There was a long pause. Emotions flickered rapidly over Smutty’s features, desire

warring with doubt and something that looked suspiciously like fear. He sighed. “You can come on board if you want to
talk
.” He pulled away and turned to the boat. “I’d better warn you though, it’s a bit… ramshackle. I haven’t had a chance to clean up after the last owner yet. He was a right messy bastard.”

Giles followed, stepping up onto the deck and down into the dimly lit interior.

The interior was mean and cramped: just one narrow room that ran the length of the

boat. Smutty walked through to the bed at the far end and climbed onto it. Giles tried to hold his breath as he trailed after him. The funky smell emanating from the cupboard on the left of the door indicated where the toilet was situated.

But there was incense to distract him, a warm glow from the stove, and that

breathtaking man with the crazy hair lounging back on a bed, propped up on his elbows, his legs lying open. Giles turned off the part of his mind that wanted to take bleach and a scrubbing brush to every dirt-encrusted surface, and concentrated on that lean body, that halo of dreadlocks, those deep, dark eyes like blazing coals.

They drew him in, daring him to throw himself on the inferno.

Giles stepped closer, his movement causing the boat to shift slightly in the water. He stood over Smutty and stared down at him.

A smile played over Smutty’s lips. “What are you after, Giles?”

“You.” The word came out gruffer than he’d expected. It didn’t sound like his voice at all. “I want you.”

Fear flitted across Smutty’s face again—gone so fast Giles wondered if he’d imagined it.

“I don’t have any condoms,” Smutty warned. “You can’t fuck me and you can’t come

in my mouth. I’m not willing to be tied up or physically hurt, but anything else is fine.”

Giles gaped. “Why would I want to hurt you?”

“No reason. I just like to get these things sorted out first. Ground rules, you know?”

Smutty wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Okay. No, that’s sensible. I can see why. I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve needed them myself, but I can see that if you…”

“If you what?” Smutty gave a lop-sided smile and Giles wondered if he was being

mocked. “If you make a habit of shagging complete strangers? Come on, you can say it if you want to. It’s true.”

“I’m not a complete stranger. You’re not either. I mean, you know more about me than some people I’ve known for years. I just wanted you to know that I respect your—”

“Shut up, Giles.” Smutty sat up and softened his words by taking Giles’s hands. “You can put your mouth to better use than that.”

And he could. Giles fell on Smutty, pinning him to the mattress and devouring him

with messy kisses. Hot and wet and sexy as sin. He ground his hips shamelessly. No need for manners in this dirty hovel of a boat. No need for decorum with a man who danced with fire.

No need to be polite with someone whose skin smelt of paraffin and fresh sweat. Smutty seemed to agree, his body writhing and bucking beneath Giles’s weight. Nothing like

Fabian’s cool languor.

But he didn’t want to think about Fabian right now.

Giles pulled himself up and sat back on his haunches. “Strip,” he ordered. “Please.”

Smutty’s eyes shone in the dim light and he smiled as he scrambled to his knees. They had a race to get undressed, clothes flying in all directions. Giles didn’t want to think about where they were going to land. At least the bed was clean and covered in an opened-out sleeping bag, the soft cotton lining uppermost. He collapsed onto it and watched Smutty walk over to the stove. His back was inked with a tattoo. Not a tribal pattern as Giles would have expected, but colourful flames, swirling up his spine and over his shoulder blades. It was similar to the designs you saw on cars in old fifties films – kitsch and flamboyant all at once.

Giles chuckled, but then Smutty bent down to open the stove and all he could do was stare at those perfect buttocks.

Giles’s cock ached with need. Not getting a chance to bury himself inside Smutty was going to be tougher than he’d imagined. “If I had a condom…” Giles trailed off, his face burning.

Smutty turned, an enquiring smile on his face. “What? You need to ask the question if you want the answer.”

But now Giles could see the front view and he lost his words. Smutty’s chest was

smooth, hairless, except for the one dark trail from his navel to his groin. His cock rose from the dark thicket of curls. He was big. Longer than Giles and thick with it. Bugger. What if Smutty was a top too? He didn’t want a battle for dominance.

“Giles, you’re drooling. Get a grip.”

Giles’s face sizzled with heat. Screw Smutty. He wasn’t going to let the bloke laugh at him. “Here,” he demanded, patting the mattress beside him. It was exhilarating to see how quickly Smutty complied, laying that long body down next to his. Giles reached out and pulled him into a rough kiss, amazed to feel how smooth Smutty’s skin was against his own.

He took greedy handfuls of that beautiful arse and rolled onto his back, bringing Smutty with him.

He could hardly read Smutty’s face in the dim light, and the sensation of that silky cock rubbing against his own was far too distracting. He just wanted to be inside him.