The Tied Man

I joined him. ‘Nice.  Last supper?’

‘Don’t.  Don’t think about it, don’t talk about it.’  He poured two generous glasses with a steady hand.  ‘Just drink and sleep and we’ll deal with the rest when it happens.  Let’s just keep tonight for ourselves, huh?’  He gave an exasperated sigh.  ‘That came out wrong.  Not that we… I mean…’

I took the nearest glass and smiled.  ‘It’s okay.  I know what you mean.’ That Finn was prepared to do this much was something to be treasured.  ‘Cheers.’  I touched my glass against his.

‘Sláinte.  Sorry I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion, by the way.  Didn’t fancy turning up in any of my work uniform, y’know?’

I knew, but it didn’t help my resolve in the slightest.  Finn was wearing his bashed-up blue and white pyjama bottoms teamed with the t-shirt I had just bought him, and he too had just washed his hair.  He looked completely adorable, from the ruffled, damp fringe that almost hid his muddied jade eyes to his delicate bare feet, and  I had an almost overwhelming urge to cover his entire body with kisses.  I took half a glass of wine in one mouthful.  It was sublime.

‘Steady, girl!’ Finn laughed.  ‘That’s a two-hundred quid gobful you’ve just swigged there.’

‘Worth every penny,’ I assured him, and held out my glass for a refill.  He obliged then topped up his own glass, and I wanted to plant another kiss squarely on the sticking plaster that hid his most recent damage.

He pulled the duvet back for me.  ‘Right, come on – get under here.  Let the warmth begin to build up.’

‘Um,’ I said, hesitant again.

‘Um?’ Finn asked, concerned.  ‘Is there a problem?  I can go…’

‘Hell, no!’

‘Then what, sweetheart?  You can tell me.’

‘Honestly?’  My heart began hammering like a teenager’s on a first date.

‘Yeah, ‘honestly’, daft arse.’

A gathering of butterflies danced in my stomach, and I couldn’t quite look at him.  ‘The only thing I want is to lie there and be held by you again.’

Finn didn’t say anything.  He just leaned over and wrapped his arms around my trembling body.  ‘Like this?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, like this.’  I finally let myself relax into the embrace of the man I’d just driven three hundred miles to be with.

‘So.  Ready to lie down now?’

I eased my way under the duvet, shivering again at the temporary chill of new sheets.  Finn settled down beside me and I lay with my back to him, almost foetal.  His arms stayed entwined around me, and his fingers knit loosely together around my waist so that I was pulled close to the man I had wanted from the very moment I met him.  With a contented sigh that he thought I couldn’t hear he buried his face in my hair, and I told myself that he was merely finding comfort in the contact.  I told myself that, but knew I was lying.   I was wetter than I had ever been.

‘Oh fuck, I’m so sorry – that’s not meant to… Jesus…’  Suddenly Finn pushed away, and I was scared that he was about to run.  He gave an embarrassed laugh against my ear.  ‘Three fucking years, and it’s never happened.  Didn’t think it could, any more.’

It was then that I felt his hard-on against the small of my back.  I turned to look at him and his expression was one of complete mortification and bemusement at his nascent desire.  I felt my nipples harden instinctively in response; I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so aroused.  This was when I would usually make my move: instant gratification, with my partner’s satisfaction a distant secondary goal.

This time, it was so different that I found myself unsure what to do next – it felt more like my first time than my first time ever had.  And therein lay my answer, because I suddenly realised that it was a first time for Finn as well, and I knew exactly what I wanted from this stolen encounter.

In answer to his panic I brought my right hand up to cradle his face, finally letting my fingers play freely over those cheekbones and stubborn jaw.  Each move seemed to take a lifetime: more than anything, I needed him to know that this was all done with his consent; that at any moment he could say ‘no’ or move away and everything would still be okay.  But he stayed, his eyes never leaving my face.

I let two fingers linger on his wind-coarsened lips.  ‘Shh,’ I whispered, and smiled in wonder that I had something so beautiful within my reach.  ‘Let me… please?’