“Thank you.”
Edward sucked Harry’s index finger. It was soothing somehow. As they lay there together in the sunshine, he started to drift into a spongy post-orgasmic snooze, but Harry spoke, pulling him back to reality. “I think we should appropriate ourselves for Scott and Paul.”
“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds horny!”
Harry chuckled. “I mean, we should do for them what they did for us.”
“They didn’t do anything for me. I already knew it all… Wait, are you saying you wanna have sex with me in front of Scott and Paul?”
“Yes.”
“For more practise?”
“No, because I’m ready. And because I really, really like you.”
Edward glanced up into his eyes. “I really, really like you, too. And to be honest, I was a virgin before I became a sex worker. It’ll be nice to have sex with someone who… you know.”
“Really, really likes you?”
“Yeah! Hey, er, we should probably get some practise in, though. If we’re gonna do this for Scott and Paul. If they even want us to! Maybe we can surprise them.”
“I agree. Practise is a great idea.”
Edward crawled up and kissed him.
Harry’s phone rang making them both jump. “Shit, my father! I’d better go.”
Edward’s happy bubble burst as reality clawed its way back in. “Will you come over tonight? I’m cooking biryani.”
Harry caressed his cheek. “Definitely!”
Chapter Twenty
Scott stood behind the counter at the gallery, wishing he was a better liar. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to appease Mr Sawhney, who’d swaggered in a few minutes ago, demanding to know where Harry was. Scott was grateful for the slab of marble between them, but he wasn’t so happy that Mr Sawhney was leaning on it as if he owned the place – which he possibly thought he did.
Mr Sawhney held up his hands. “Well, where is he exactly? He’s not answering his phone and he said he would meet me at five o’clock!”
Scott swallowed, refusing to be intimidated. “I told you – I don’t know. About an hour ago I sent him to get some… thing and I haven’t seen him since. He’s probably on his way back as we speak. Or perhaps he’ll just go straight home from… there.”
“But he’ll need to come here to give it to you. And also he’ll come to say goodnight. He does have manners, you know.”
“I know.”
Scott glanced out of the gallery’s huge windows. His heart soared with joy as he saw Harry ambling this way. His heart plunged again, though, as he saw what a mess the young man looked. His hair was scruffy and he look as if he’d dressed in a hurry. He was carrying a plastic bag with the logo of a local pharmacy emblazoned on it, so at least they could pretend it contained whatever he’d gone to collect… Scott had no idea how they were going to explain why he looked such a state. But at least Edward wasn’t with him – that would’ve been hard to explain.
Harry pushed open the gallery door and swaggered inside. It looked as if he’d absorbed some of Edward’s cockiness this afternoon. Scott was happy to see him so confident, but maybe his father wasn’t the best person to practise being assertive on.
Harry halted as he saw his father and threw his hand to his hip. He gazed at him from behind his sunglasses. “Hello, papa.”
“Harry, what happened? You’re wet.”
“It was raining.”
Mr Sawhney glanced out the window. “But there’s not a cloud in the sky.”
“It was raining in Hampstead. A flash shower.”
“Why were you in Hampstead?”
Scott intervened. “That’s where I sent him, Mr Sawhney. Right, Harry?”
Mr Sawhney turned to look at Harry, who shrugged insolently. Scott shot him desperate glance behind his father’s back – willing him to play along – but he suddenly spotted a red mark on his neck, which was unmistakably a love bite. Oh shit!
Mr Sawhney was pinning his son down with a firm glare. “So where is it, then?”
“What?” Harry asked.
“The thing you got for Scott?”
“Oh, er…”
“Had they run out?” Scott asked, trying to control his panic.
“Er, yes, sorry, Scott, but I couldn’t get… it. Anyway…” He held up the carrier bag. “I’d better do my hair. I stopped off to buy some products.”
Scott prayed that he really did have hair products in there and not a huge box of condoms. But Mr Sawhney didn’t seem interested in the bag, thank god. It probably went without saying for him that Harry would want to style his hair.
Harry propelled himself over the gallery floor towards the back storeroom, where he probably planned to lock himself in the bathroom and wait for his father to leave.
“Open the window, please, Harry,” Scott called. “I don’t want the paintings warping from your hairspray fumes!”
“Wait, Haroon!” Mr Sawhney barked. “Come back here now, and stop behaving like an insolent child. Firstly, I want you to apologise to Scott for coming back empty handed and for looking like a state. What would your mother say if she saw you like this?”
“It’s really okay,” Scott said.
“Sorry, Scott,” Harry muttered. He tried to keep a straight face, but Scott saw a smirk creep in at the sides of his mouth. Scott pressed his fingers against his lips and tried not to giggle at Harry’s subversiveness. What was it about Edward’s influence that turned grown men into rebellious schoolboys?
“And second,” Mr Sawhney continued – oblivious to Scott and Harry’s smirking. “You arranged to meet me today at five. It’s now a quarter past. I don’t care where you were and what you were doing. You must always call me to say if you’re going to be late. How would you like it if a person kept you waiting an extra fifteen minutes?”
“Sorry, father.”
“Right. Now the reason I wanted to meet you today is because I have some news. Mummy-ji and I have planned a surprise party for you, to celebrate your future.”
Harry dropped the surly act and allowed his genuine happiness to show at this news. “Really? To celebrate my university placement?”
“Yes. We never celebrated your eighteenth properly, did we? Because you were still in India, and because of the stress over you wanting to do the art course. But now we can celebrate you becoming a man, this Saturday. Right?”
“Right, okay. Well… thank you.”
“Yes. We’ve invited two hundred guests – friends and family. And you may also bring a guest.”
Without waiting for a response from Harry, Mr Sawhney spun to face Scott. “And you’re welcome to come to the party, too. As a thank you for all you’ve done for my son. What do you say? How would you and your wife like to come to an authentic Indian party?”
The art gallery shrunk around Scott, squeezing him tight. “My wife?”
“Yes, yes. Bring her along.”
“Mr Sawhney, I… I’m married to a man. I’m gay.”
Time seemed to unravel as Mr Sawhney stared at him impassively – scrutinising him like a half-squashed bug.
Scott refused to break eye contact. This was one issue that he’d never recoil from. “I just assumed you knew.”
Mr Sawhney sprang back to life and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, well, it’s no problem, of course! You bring along your man to the party. You’ll be made to feel most welcome.”
Scott glanced over at Harry. Harry rolled his eyes despairingly, then strutted off out the back.
Scott smiled amiably at Mr Sawhney. “We’d love to come – thank you.”
Mr Sawhney clapped his hands satisfactorily. “Great! We’ll see you on Saturday. I’ll wait for Haroon. There’s something funny going on with that boy at the moment, and I won’t rest until I find out what it is.”
Without bothering to ask if it was okay, Mr Sawhney strode out the back after his son, leaving Scott standing there reeling about what was going to happen when Harry finally plucked u
p the courage to tell his dad not only about his sexuality, but also that he was falling for a former rent boy.
Chapter Twenty-One
The frying pan sizzled with the succulent sounds of simmering spices, making the already-hot kitchen feel tropical. But the huge windows that overlooked Hampstead Heath were wide open, letting in a glorious summer breeze – and letting out the aromas of Edward’s masterwork – his veggie biryani.
“More oil please, assistant!” Edward called out.
Paul chuckled and poured the oil out of the bottle with a flourish. It flashed noisily as it splashed into the bubbling curry, and Edward shook the pan like a pro chef.
“Perfect!” Edward said, with a satisfied grin.
It cheered Paul’s soul to see him enjoying himself this much. Apparently tonight’s recipe had come via a certain young Indian man. It was obvious that their date had gone well earlier – Paul had never seen Edward this blissed out before. He’d even opted for a playlist of Indian music on the ipod, which was creating a wonderful atmosphere of exotic sounds, mingling with the gorgeous spicy smells.
Paul glanced over at Scott who was sitting at the kitchen table, opening their household bills. Scott had just been in the middle of explaining what had happened earlier with Mr Sawhney, when Edward had requested the splash of oil.
Paul plonked the bottle on the counter. “So he didn’t actually realise you were gay, cupcake? Has that ever happened to you before?”
Scott laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised! It happens to you on a daily basis.”
Edward threw a handful of chives into the frying pan. “That’s because Paul’s so butch!”
Paul and Scott burst into laughter at Edward’s sarcasm.
“Well, the ladies do seem to fall for him.” Scott said. “Did you know that the artist who we’re currently displaying at the gallery fell in love with Paul last summer?”
Edward dragged his eyes away from the curry. “No way! Oh my god – how awkward! How did you get out of that one?”
Scott sat up tall. “I decided to show her that Paul was mine, if you know what I mean?”
Edward giggled and shot Paul a suggestive wink. Paul pushed away his arousal. That session with Kate Jagger last summer had been one of the most erotic moments of his life. It’d inspired him and Scott to try a few sex parties, which had nourished their exhibitionist side and sealed their bond even further.
Paul focused back to the cooking. He watched Edward stir the curry with a jaunty flick of the wrist. There was a contented smile on his lips that Paul had never seen before.
“So how did it go with Harry?”
Edward smiled coyly. “Alright.”
Scott cooed. “Aww, you should’ve seen Harry when he got back to the gallery, Paul. He was soaking wet and his hair was flat.”
Paul opened his mouth to express his amazement about Harry’s hair, but Edward got in there first. “Was he okay?”
“Yeah. He seemed happy. He was even cheeky to his dad.”
“Good. That bastard’s been pushing him around too long.”
Paul rested a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t try to turn him against his family. He’s gotta work this out for himself.”
“I know. I’ll wait as long as he wants me to.”
Edward stirred the curry and smirked knowingly.
“Wait for what?” Paul asked.
Edward shrugged. He lifted the frying pan from the burner and rested it on the counter. “Can you get me some plates, please, Paul?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
Edward grabbed a serving spoon and started dolloping the curry onto the plates. He absentmindedly said, “I guess we need to talk about my living arrangements, huh? I can’t stay here forever.”
Scott cleared the letters from the table. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. Don’t feel pressured to move out.”
“But,” Paul said, “if you do want to get some independence, then we’ll help you find somewhere. If you want our help.”
“Thanks. You guys are so kind. It makes me want to be kind, too.”
Paul opened his mouth to tell Edward that he was kind, but the sound of the door buzzer interrupted him.
Scott stood up. “I wonder who that is.”
He strode out to answer it, so Paul helped Edward dish up, making small talk about how delicious it looked and how proud Edward should be of his creation.
The kitchen door was pushed open from the hallway and Scott strolled back in, followed by Harry, who looked as nervous as a flighty racehorse. Edward grinned. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, and Paul was afraid to walk between them, in case he got electrocuted.
“You came,” Edward said – his face plastered with love. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
Harry shrugged. “How could I miss the unveiling of the veggie biryani?”
Edward winced. “I’m not sure if I got the spice levels right.”
“I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
Scott pulled back a chair. “Come and sit down, Harry.”
They all sat around the table and enjoyed each other’s company – an old relationship and a new one. The conversation and the wine flowed, and they all relaxed, ate, and had fun. At the end of the meal, Edward announced that he and Harry would take care of the dishes. Paul opened his mouth to assure them that he and Scott would help, but he quickly realised that they wanted to be alone. So instead, he and Scott slunk off to the bedroom to work on their own loving relationship.
On their comfy king-sized bed, Scott leaned against the headboard, and Paul straddled his thighs, nibbling his neck. Paul was excited about where this was leading – his body was tense with sensual arousal, feeling mellow after the preceding wine and the spices.
Scott pulled away from their kiss. “Wait. Do you think it’s okay to leave those two alone together?”
Paul panted. “Why? You wanna join them?”
“No, I mean, Harry’s dad would explode if he knew what Edward was up to with his son.”
“Who fucking cares? Harry’s eighteen. Just let them do whatever they want. They’re both good guys. Edward’s clear from disease and Harry’s not gonna get pregnant, is he!”
“You’re right... but…”
“What?”
Scott’s expression practically purred. “You’re not a good guy, are you? You’re quite a bad guy.”
Paul smirked, feeling his lust roar like a waterfall. “Me? I saw you looking at those young men over dinner. I need to remind you who you married. I want them to hear us enjoying ourselves loudly and orgasmically!”
Scott grinned. “Oh really? And how do you propose we do that?”
Paul knelt up and unzipped his trousers. He delved his fingers into his boxers and pulled out his hard cock. “Maybe I could come in your mouth and mark you as mine!”
Scott chuckled smuttily. “I’d like that.”
Paul clambered off the bed and quickly stripped off his shirt and trousers. He realised that Scott was swiftly undressing, too – no slutty striptease tonight – it was all go. Paul grabbed a tube of lubricant then rushed back to the bed to find Scott re-settling against the headboard in his naked glory, fondling his hard cock.
Paul climbed on the springy bed and wobbled his way over to stand in front of Scott. He gazed down at his gorgeous husband, feeling powerful above him.
“Ready for me?” he whispered.
“Always.”
Paul bent his knees and fed his erection into Scott’s waiting open mouth, tilting his hips backwards and dipping his cock further between Scott’s lips – knowing that Scott could take it. Scott’s hands grabbed a-hold of Paul’s buttocks as he swallowed him down, grunting hornily and sucking hard. Paul gripped the top of the headboard and eagerly ground his hips into Scott’s face, feeling dominant as he thrust himself towards pleasure. Scott let go of Paul’s ass and grabbed the lube, then he reached up with lube-covered fingers and eased Paul’s buttocks apart. S
cott’s finger encircled Paul’s rim – shooting utter bliss through his abdomen – then he slipped it inside, treating Paul to a finger fuck from behind, as he sucked him off in front.
Paul tensed, preparing himself to come in Scott’s mouth, but Scott suddenly turned his face away. “Come and ride me, Paul.”
This suggestion switched on a neon light in Paul’s chest. He grinned. “I’d love to.”
Paul dropped to his knees and leaned forward to tease his tongue into Scott’s mouth, snogging him passionately and tasting his own cock’s lingering saltiness. He kissed him ‘farewell’ and shuffled down to straddle Scott’s hips. Scott’s hard cock was straining eagerly, so Paul bent and gave it a quick lick – which caused Scott to groan with joy. As Paul sassily sucked Scott off, he grabbed the lube and squirted some onto his hand. Then he knelt up and massaged Scott’s straining erection – making sure it was well-oiled before it went anywhere near his ass.
Paul rose up on his knees and hovered above Scott’s rock-hard erection. Scott reached out and held it upright for Paul, and they smiled lovingly into each other’s eyes. Paul slowly lowered himself, easing Scott’s cock between his butt cheeks and allowing the tip to penetrate his rim. The painful delight zigzagged up his spine, making his eyes water – but he just needed to get through this and then he was in for the thrill of his life. He gently sank down over Scott’s cock, relishing the amazing sensation of being filled up by his husband. He grinned at him – and Scott beamed back through half-closed eyes, clearly enjoying this, too.
“Yes, Paul!”
Paul continued sinking down until Scott’s cock was completely inside him, then he slowly tilted his hips back and forth, getting himself into a sexy rhythm. Scott reached out to hold Paul’s hand like a kindly parent helping a child onto a playground ride – but this was a very adult game. They linked their fingers together as Paul bounced up and down, quickening the pace and receiving more delight up his ass with each thrust. Paul’s own cock was now springing up and down as they bounced, so he grabbed it and allowed the sensual rhythm to carry his fingers up and down his shaft – giving him pleasure in front and behind.
Lustful Gaze (London Loves #6) Page 14