Take My Breath Away by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Twenty-Five
JAMES
Perry’s lying on his back, his lips gently puffing in and out on each soft breath. He looks so peaceful, so relaxed, his auburn hair messy and tumbled. I itch to push it away from his brow, to run my fingers through the soft strands. The first signs of dark scruff are marking his fair skin. I take all this in under the soft lamplight, which we’d not switched off before both of us had tumbled into sleep.
I reach out, just to lay a soft touch on him, just to know that he really is here, with me, in bed, after a night of sleeping in each other’s arms, but I let my hand drop, fearing that I’ll wake him.
He mutters in his sleep, and shifts to his side, moving closer as though seeking me out, as he snuggles into my side.
“Perry?” I whisper, but his only answer is his deep and steady breathing.
It’s been years since I properly spent a night with a man. I go or they do, leaving me to wake up every morning alone.
Some may think that’s a cold and soulless way to live — Elliot certainly thinks so — but he and I are cut from very different cloth.
No sleepy, morning cuddles; no sharing a shower; no first coffee together. They’re the acts of those in relationships, and I’ve worked hard to keep clear of those for more years than I want to remember.
There’s no reason for me to change my outlook and my ways, not when they’ve served me so well. Keep it simple, keep it clear, keep it casual and no strings. Nobody gets involved, so nobody gets hurt. It’s pretty much the rule I’ve lived by since I walked out on Alex — hell, it’s what I lived by when we were together, to my eternal shame — but now, and for what I know is truly the first time in my hedonistic, self-centred life, that rule is not only bending, it’s breaking.
Perry shifts again, and I slip out of bed. My naked skin goosebumps in the chilly early morning air, tempting me to climb back into the warmth, bundle Perry up in my arms, and breathe in the salty aroma of what we’d shared together.
I climaxed last night, the evidence crusted on my stomach, but what had happened between us hadn’t been about me and my physical needs. Everything had been about Perry, giving him what he wanted and needed. Touch, caress… His response had been pure instinct, utterly and completely beautiful.
I run a finger across the dried cum on my stomach, feeling it flake under my touch. That’s another chip of my defences falling away. I always wash the men off me, cleaning every inch of my body, scrubbing my teeth and mouth-washing. Literally and figuratively removing all trace. But not last night, not with Perry. I run my tongue over my teeth, over the insides of my cheeks, seeking out the lingering taste of him.
As I gaze down, he shifts again, and my lips curl up into a smile. The boy’s a fidget, and a bed hogger, with his arms and legs spread wide beneath the duvet, like some kind of human star fish.
The urge to touch him, to have that connection that I never, ever seek, is too strong to resist this time, and before I can think to stop myself, I run my fingers through his hair. My heart leaps when he sighs, and murmurs something that, if I let myself, I can believe is my name on his lips. I withdraw my slightly shaking hand, and swallow down the lump that’s lodged in my throat.
As quietly as possible, I collect some clean clothes and tiptoe out of the bedroom, leaving Perry to sleep and for me to head to the shower and try to work out how I’m going to navigate a landscape for which I have neither a map nor a compass.
* * *
The sun’s just coming up, and I make myself another coffee and gaze out at the little back garden and beyond, to the hill above the village where Perry and I had shared a kiss so warm and tender just the memory of it makes my heart soar.
I hadn’t meant to seduce him, or that’s what I tell myself, but who seduced who is open to debate. A noise, a thump, that could be from the cottage next door, but I know isn’t, has me looking up at the ceiling. My heart thumps hard in response. Perry’s awake and up, and soon he’ll be coming downstairs. My hold on the mug tightens. I’m nervous, and that’s quite the confession, coming from a man in his fifties who’s been around the block so many times I’ve all but worn a groove in the ground. I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm the nerves I’ve never had before, and only just in time as the kitchen door swings open.
“Morning. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
Oh, Christ…My shoulders hunch as I cringe at my question. I sound like the proprietor of a B&B enquiring after a guest. Perry smiles, but it’s small and tight, and there’s confusion in his dark eyes.
“Yes, thank you.” He looks away, his grip on the door handle so tight I can see the whites of his knuckles. I take a deep breath, because we have to start again.
“Perry, come and sit down.” I nod to the table. No matter how nervy I’m feeling, he’s a thousand times worse.
He hesitates, and for a moment I have the horrifying thought he’s going to shake his head and turn away, but he doesn’t. I join him at the table, with no idea what to say but knowing I have to say something.
“Perry—”
“James—”
We speak at once, before we both fall silent. He’s staring at me, and I’m staring back, both of us blinking like we’ve been dragged from the dark into the light.
“Last night—”
“About yesterday—”
We’ve done it again, and it’s what we need to break free of the weird tension that’s roped itself around us. A small smile breaks across Perry’s face, little more than a twitch of lips.
“You first,” he says. The smile’s still there. It’s a little unsure, a little hesitant, but it’s there, and it’s all I need for the butterflies in my stomach to land and be still.
“I never planned what happened. Coming away like this, it was never meant to be some kind of seduction. I want you to understand that.”
Seduction. Perry seduced me long ago, but it had nothing to do with sex.
“No,” he says slowly, as though he’s thinking his next words through. “I don’t believe for a moment it was planned, because that would be calculated, I suppose. Fundamentally dishonest.”
“What?” His words are a punch in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs. That makes me sound like a — no, I really don’t want to think how that makes me sound, because it’s not true.
“And you’re not those things, I know that. We should put down what happened to circumstances. The time and the place, or the sea air.”
“The time and the place? The sea air?” I’m gawping at him, as I parrot his words back to him. This isn’t going how I expected, not that I knew what to expect. This boy has pushed me so far out of my depths, I’m in danger of drowning. I need to get back to shore, and quickly.
“It had nothing to do with the sea air, Perry. I’m not sorry about what happened, not sorry at all. I don’t regret a thing. I don’t regret what we did last night. I don’t regret us falling asleep in each other’s arms, just like I don’t regret watching you as you slept and—”
“You were watching me?” He tilts his head, and peers at me, like I’m a bug under a microscope. I’m so used to being in control, but this is all running away from me, too fast for me to catch.
“Yes. No. Oh, bloody hell.” I throw my head back, squeezing my eyes closed as I push my fingers through my hair. It’s all coming out wrong. I’ve made myself sound like some kind of obsessive, and if he decides to pack his bag and jump on the first train back to London, I’ve nobody but myself to blame.
“You do realise that makes you sound like a perv, don’t you?”
I open my eyes and let my hands drop to the table. There’s laughter in his voice and in his eyes. “But then I said you were a kinky fucker, didn’t I, when you found me in the café?”
He’s trying not to laugh, he’s trying so hard. The little sod is playing with me and enjoying every moment.
I shrug. “I can neither confirm nor deny my level of kinky fuckery.”
He shakes his head and laughs, the sound light, and I join in. It’s everything we need to put us at ease and sweep away any lingering awkwardness. But there’s more I need, and want, to say, and I’m determined to do it. I take his hand, and he lets it rest in mine.
“There’s no way in this world I would ever take back what happened last night, but I need to know whether or not you feel the same way?”
In the clear light of morning, without the fog of lust. If he says no, I don’t have a clue what I’ll do.
I study him as his gaze drops to our entwined hands. My heart beat’s ramped up and is in danger of smashing through my ribs. Despite the moment of playfulness, I’ve no idea what he’s going to say.
He’s been through a bad time with a man.
He wants to reset his life.
He wants to make a new start, miles and miles away.
It was a one-off, all about the time, the place, and the sea air.
He could say all of those things, and I’d accept them because I’d have no other option.
“No, I could never regret what happened. Ever.” His eyes, bright and clear and beautiful, so beautiful they take my breath away, meet mine. “I—I’ve never felt so cared for. You made me feel that, James. You.”
A soft pink washes over his face, but he holds my gaze.
I lean across, closing the small gap between us. I let go of his hands, and cup his face in between my palms, tilting his head up. His steady gaze never falters.
“Then let’s never regret any of it.” I whisper the words against his lips, which are softening, opening.
We kiss long and deep, slow and tender. It’s dizzying, breathtaking, intoxicating. It’s frightening and exhilarating. It’s like nothing I’ve known, and everything I want to know.
Just like I know without knowing that something inside of me has clicked into place, that the world I know has tilted on its axis, and that nothing, ever, can be the same again.
