“I think I’ve been here before.”
Nikolas nodded. “It is called spirit of place. I have felt it in places also. I saw that you were feeling it as soon as you saw the house.”
“Have you just voluntarily told me something about yourself?”
Nikolas smiled. “I must be slipping. Perhaps it is this place. Perhaps it is just you lying where you are.”
Ben couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand what Nikolas meant. He was lying in Nikolas’s lap, after all. He turned his cheek to the bulge then unzipped the soft jeans, freeing Nikolas’s erection. It was startlingly beautiful and natural in the bright sunlight. Nikolas lay back with a groan as if the feel of the sun and wind on his erection was painful but he swore in a hoarse whisper of delight as Ben took the cock deep to the back of his throat. He knew Nikolas loved this—it was one confession he had managed to drag out of him—so Ben had been practicing on him recently…a lot. He was getting pretty good. Too good almost. With a harsh cry, Nikolas came, scrabbling in Ben’s hair for a hold and jerking violently as he released. When he could breathe again, he lay flat on the rocks. Ben allowed the softening cock to slide from his lips, moved up to Nikolas’s mouth and fed him back his own spill, laughing at the outraged reaction and the consequent mess on their faces. But Nikolas didn’t seem to be in the mood to let anything Ben did annoy him now—perhaps this was his apology for his earlier temper. He wrestled Ben over onto his back and proceeded to return both favours he had just been given.
By the time they returned to the house, they were both more than a little dishevelled. Ben stripped off the remainder of his suit and changed into jeans as well. He sat on the tailgate of the vehicle, bare feet, knees drawn up to his bare chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, just staring at the house. He heard a soft expletive from Nikolas and turned a lazy, green-eyed gaze to him questioningly. Nikolas shook his head, looked down at the ground then raised his eyes and said unexpectedly, “You have no idea just how beautiful you are, do you?” A quick smile of embarrassment and pleasure flashed across Ben’s face before he could hide it. Nikolas came and sat on the tailgate with him, and they stared at the house companionably.
After a moment, and with a quick glance to gauge possible reactions to his question, Ben asked hesitantly, “Have you…? I mean, did you, when you were…? How many men have you slept with?”
Nikolas turned his head and regarded him for a long time before answering. “In the sense that you mean, you were the first.”
Ben held his gaze. “In the sense that I mean? What the fuck does
that
mean?”
“It means many things, but hopefully it means exactly what you want to hear. I have never truly kissed another man, and you are the only man I have wanted to give my body to. But I suspect it will take a great deal longer for you to tell me of past lovers, and now that you have somewhat inappropriately brought up the subject, I am actually curious. How many men have you slept with, Ben?”
Ben pursed his lips and shook his head, as if anxious at admitting the true number, but then stopped teasing and smirked. “I guess that night on the billiard table was a first for both of us then.”
Nikolas’s eyes widened. “Seriously, Benjamin, you had been in the army since you were sixteen, and you expect me to believe that—”
“Despite what you might read, mate, soldiers aren’t fucking each other in every foxhole. I admit, I got a hand job once or twice in the showers—mainly from paras, course; we all know about that…on the other hand there
was
the occasional marine, but we were always told it’s compulsory for them.”
“Stop trying to be funny and tell me truthfully—that first time at the house was literally your first time?”
Ben sobered. “Yeah, it was.”
“Incredible.”
“Surprised I knew what to do really.”
“I do not recall you having any difficulty working it out.”
“No, but then I’d had some weeks thinking about it.”
Nikolas turned his head slowly, incredulity on his face. “You were thinking about…before that weekend? With…me?”
Ben shrugged. “Come on. Have you seen yourself? That fucking interview in London? Asking all those questions in that bloody voice of yours? You say you fell—I almost took off. I was so hard I had to take my jacket off and lay it on my lap.”
Nikolas laughed. “Good God. I remember that. For the rest of the interview, I was hoping you would take your shirt off as well.”
They held each other’s gaze, and Ben said calmly, “It was fate, Nik, you know that. You can rationalise things as much as you like, but everything has led us to this place and to each other.”
Nikolas turned his gaze to the house and the moors and then the rooks circling the enormous fir trees by the stream. “I do not believe in fate. We make our own destinies through sacrifice and pain.” He patted Ben’s thigh to soften his words and smiled. “But I do not deny that when I am with you, I am willing to be persuaded to your view of the world. Come. I have one day left to commit adultery with you. We should not waste the opportunity.”
Ben chuckled. “We could stay here. Sort of camp out?”
There was a snort of derision. “I am not that fond of you.”
They drove away from the house, and when they finally came back out onto a proper road, it was like emerging from a dream. Ben actually glanced back anxiously. “What if we can’t find it again? What if it doesn’t—?”
“If you are actually going to finish that sentence and say
really exist
, then can you get out of the car and walk home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They drove south to the coast to a hotel Nikolas had heard of but never visited. It was on an island only accessible at low tide, and even then not by vehicle but by a huge sea tractor sent to the mainland to fetch and return guests. Built during the 1920s, the hotel was an iconic art deco masterpiece. It had recently undergone a full restoration and offered only the very best to the very rich. It was immensely elegant, the suites named for the tors on Dartmoor, which Ben reckoned was a nice touch. He had already named his tor behind the house Nik’s Knob, but hadn’t told him this yet.
Nikolas didn’t even bother to book two rooms. He seemed more relaxed and at ease with himself than Ben had ever seen. He was even still dressed in the old jeans and Ben’s T-shirt he’d changed into at the house. Ben could never have imagined Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen being seen in public without his immaculate suits. Of course, his request for one room could have been down to the £700 per night price tag, but Ben gave him the benefit of the doubt and credited his boldness to the fact that this was the new and improved Nikolas emerging under
his
tutelage.
The views from the suite were almost worth the £700—unbroken sea and the waves crashing onto the rocks below. The furnishings and elegant touches were also almost worth the price tag, too. The bed definitely was. Nikolas began undressing Ben as soon as the porter left their bags. Ben caught his wrists. “You do realise I haven’t eaten a proper meal since breakfast, yeah?”
Nikolas quirked up his lips and freed his wrists. “Then I have an excellent suggestion what you can eat right now.”
Ben looked down. “That doesn’t count as a proper meal. I’ve already explained that to you many times.”
Nikolas grinned one of his very rare, wide-open smiles. “A practical demonstration is needed then. Clearly, I am a very slow learner.”
Ben went to the room service menu. “Trust me, I’m so hungry you wouldn’t want my jaws around your pecker right now. I’m ordering real food, and you’re eating, too.”
Nikolas seemed resigned to his fate, but as he went out onto the balcony to smoke, he said, “No meat. I do not eat meat.”
Ben continued to snigger at this all through the order, which came to well over £200. They’d spent nearly a £1,000 already and neither of them had sat down yet. He decided he was very much in love with Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen and went out on the balcony to tell him so. Nikolas was leaning on the low wall that surrounded their balcony. The hotel was round, each balcony facing in its own direction and thus completely private. Only by hopping up on the wall and leaning out as far as he dared could Ben see a glimpse of the next suite’s balcony wall. He turned to comment on this to find Nikolas staring at him, pale. “Get down. Please.” Ben jumped off and sat on the wall instead. Nikolas swallowed and glanced at the rocks far below.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”
“Stupid child. I’m not. I was afraid you were going to fall. There is a huge difference.”
“Jesus, Nik. You do remember I was in the SAS, yeah? Sometimes you treat me like—”
“I treat you like…? Do finish what you were going to say. Oh, and remember the £700 room you are currently enjoying.” Nikolas came and sat next to him—proving that he wasn’t actually afraid of heights at all—and blew smoke in his face.
“Ah, but I’d have laid you down and fucked you all night on the floor of the old house for free.”
Nikolas could only laugh ruefully. Ben nodded wisely to emphasise the truth of his words. Nikolas was the one who enjoyed luxury. Ben’s only real indulgence was his bike. They sat looking at the view and waiting for the meal to arrive. After a few minutes, Nikolas said, slightly irritably, “You should take up smoking, Benjamin. Then perhaps you would stop giving me those evil looks.” He took a deep drag of his latest cigarette, seized Ben around the back of the neck, and kissed him, the smoke pouring out between them. Ben didn’t know whether to laugh or punch him. Fortunately, he was busy choking so didn’t have to decide. He flung his head back out of Nikolas’s grasp and in doing so lost his balance. He might have gone over backward if Nikolas hadn’t grabbed his arm. If he’d thought Nikolas had gone pale before, now he was almost deathly white. Ben glanced down at the fingers on his tanned arm and saw that Nikolas’s hand was shaking.
“Hey, I’m okay. I wouldn’t have fallen. Freaky skills, remember?”
Nikolas nodded, but he hardly seemed to be with Ben anymore. “My reactions seemed to have got quicker. Or maybe I wanted to catch you more.” Suddenly, he flinched. He turned quickly. Ben jumped, his nerves strung out by the almost fall.
“What the fuck, Nik?”
Nikolas smiled, but it clearly took him some effort. “Nothing. I thought I heard room service. Do not swear at me.” He got away with this obvious lie because right at that moment there was a discreet knock at the door. Ben went to get the food, leaving Nikolas to finish his cigarette.
Ben couldn’t use his bluff to sleep in another room to force Nikolas to eat as they didn’t have one, but as they hadn’t had sex yet, he had an even more effective threat. It would have been a huge sacrifice on his part, but he was willing to make it. He was noble like that. Nikolas, therefore, ate—very grudgingly and painfully slowly, but everything he ate was healthy, so Ben was satisfied. He polished off a beef and ale pie with extra chips, Sharpham apple crumble and custard, and a plate of shortbread in the time it took Nikolas to eat a piece of salmon and an asparagus spear. Even then, Nikolas leant back complaining he’d eaten too much. Suddenly, he checked his watch. “It is low tide. Let us walk off the food on the beach.”
The hotel had steps leading down to a private beach that at low tide stretched along most of the western side of the island. The sea had left the sand glistening and pristine in the early evening light. Nikolas kicked off his deck shoes and rolled up his jeans, and Ben couldn’t believe the transformation from the Nikolas he’d travelled down from London with only the day before. Somewhere between then and now, Nikolas had shed years of care. His fringe blew loose and long over his eyes. With hands thrust deep in the pockets of the old, worn jeans, sea washing around his ankles, he looked like the boy in the photo once more. Ben came up behind him. “Can you swim?”
Nikolas laughed. “I am Danish, Ben, or had you forgot? We are birthed in sea water, and it calls to us all our lives.”
“Okay then, you Viking freak. See that buoy out there? Think you could beat me in a race around it and back?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Well?”
Nikolas turned, frowning. “Seriously? You want to swim? Now?”
“In the sea water that’s in your blood, apparently. Of course, if it’s too cold or too deep or too full of scary little crabs for you…”
Nikolas pulled off his T-shirt.
Ben did the same.