The Fireman's Pole

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The Fireman's Pole Page 7

by Sue Brown


  His mouth on Ben’s, his hands resting on Ben’s hips gently—or maybe not so gently—shoving him against the wall, all this was to calm Dale’s anger. Instead it transcended into something completely different. The spark that had been between them every time they stared into each other’s eyes finally ignited into a white-hot flame. He hadn’t intended to do anything more than a few chaste kisses today. Dale wanted to seduce Ben, a slow gentle process that Ben couldn’t come back from, but his plans went up in ashes at the first touch of their mouths. Ben’s lips parted under Dale’s, and Dale took the opportunity to explore his mouth. Ben tasted of tea and the faintest sweetness from the earlier cakes.

  Ben remained passive for a brief moment, as if he wasn’t sure what to do, but Dale didn’t want passive. He wanted Ben to need this as much as he did. Dale cupped Ben’s arse and dragged him up against his body. Ben groaned into Dale’s mouth, and then he clutched at Dale’s hair and dragged him down to kiss just as forcefully as Dale was kissing him.

  Dale’s brain reminded him that slow and chaste was the plan. Dale put his brain on hold with ABBA’s greatest hits and said he would get back to it later. The rest of his body focused on the man in his arms. As Dale kissed him, Ben made sounds that Dale absorbed. It was an incredible turn-on, and Dale was as hard as a rock. He could feel Ben’s arousal and thrilled to the fact Ben was as aroused as him. Ben’s hands tangled in his hair, a slight bite of pain that just added to the sensation while Dale drowned in Ben’s male smell, and the rasp of his stubble on Dale’s cheeks.

  He could have stood there, in a quiet dark corner, kissing Ben until they both came, but in the end they were thwarted by something as simple as a phone call. Dale raised his head reluctantly as he felt the vibration from one of Ben’s pockets.

  “Is that your phone, or is your dildo pleased to see me?” Okay, it was a bad joke, but Ben laughed and his eyes focused again.

  Ben dug out his phone. “Dinner is ready.”

  Dale raised an eyebrow. “Do they always ring you to let you know dinner is ready?”

  “They text,” Ben corrected. “And yes, if they can’t find me, they text me. Calminster is a big place, and I could be anywhere on the estate.”

  Dale frowned, his mind immediately moving to the idea of Ben bringing other men to hide and play. Ben slipped his hand under Dale’s T-shirt and pinched the skin on Dale’s waist.

  Dale yelped and scowled at him. “What did you do that for?”

  “You’re being an idiot,” Ben said bluntly. “Yes, I’ve brought other men here, and no, none of them meant anything.”

  “Does that mean I’m special?”

  “You’re certainly something,” Ben agreed.

  Dale wanted to take exception to Ben’s sarcastic reply, but Ben had taken the opportunity to give him a thorough grope. Dale decided his time would be better spent enjoying the fondle, and he could bitch later. Ben stepped back with a satisfied hum. Before he could say anything, Dale heard another vibration.

  “Time to go?” Dale asked.

  “They’ll come hunting for me soon.”

  “We can’t have them discovering you fondling the hired help.”

  Ben frowned. “You’re not the hired help.”

  Dale opened his mouth and then shut it again. He’d meant it as a joke but realized it could have been taken a different way. He was quickly learning that they would have to tread carefully around the difference in their status.

  “If you feed me, you can call me whatever you like.”

  “I think I can do that,” Ben said.

  THEY emerged from the small bedroom seconds before Colson ran up the stairs and spotted them. Dale was sure their appearances gave away exactly what they had been doing, but Colson was professional enough not to comment beyond saying that dinner had been served. Ben thanked him and led Dale to a large room he’d not been in before. He had already told Dale that they wouldn’t eat in the dining room because it was being refurbished.

  Dale blinked at the volume of food laid out on the table. “How many people are coming to dinner?”

  Ben laughed and pointed Dale to a seat. “This is just for you and me. Mrs. Wilson was so thrilled to have her rescuer to dinner, she insisted on giving Lisa the menu. I usually eat in the kitchen unless I have guests. Don’t worry, most of this food will reappear as leftovers over the next few days.”

  Dale was pleased when Ben took the seat next to him rather than at one end of the table. “I don’t mind eating in the kitchen next time.”

  Ben’s mouth quirked at one corner. “You think there’s going to be a next time?”

  “I thought we’d had this discussion already.” Dale was sure there would be more than one next time. He didn’t know where he got this confidence from, but he knew he and Ben were good for more than one dinner and a few kisses.

  Or maybe not. Ben didn’t answer immediately, and Dale started to worry he’d jumped the gun.

  “I think there’s going to be a next time,” Ben agreed.

  They served themselves rather than waiting for Colson to come back. Dale really hoped Ben didn’t have some ritual about grace before dinner. He could remember going to Baz’s father’s house and being scowled at because he went to eat before Mr. Bromley had said grace. But Ben started eating almost before his arse hit the chair. Dale moaned at the first taste of Mrs. Wilson’s chicken and vegetable pie. This wasn’t haute cuisine. It was plain ordinary English cooking, like Dale’s mother would serve him, but five hundred times better. Ben laughed when Dale told him this, around a mouthful of cheesy mashed potato that melted Dale’s taste buds.

  “I pay Mrs. Wilson a fortune never to retire.”

  “If I had your money, I’d do the same thing,” Dale agreed.

  “I went out to dinner last night, and although the food was good, I raided the freezer as soon as I got back, because nothing beats Mrs. Wilson’s cooking.”

  “Who did you go out with?”

  Ben seemed to brace himself before he answered. “There’s something I ought to tell you before you read it in the gossip column.”

  “I don’t read gossip columns,” Dale pointed out.

  “If you don’t read it, then someone is bound to tell you.”

  “Go on, then.”

  Ben couldn’t miss the edge to Dale’s voice. “Until last night I was going out with a woman.”

  Dale felt as if Ben had delivered a punch to his gut. He sucked in a breath and said calmly as could, “Does this mean you separated from her?”

  “I told you that I’m faithful to my boyfriends,” Ben reminded him. “And I was faithful to Sabrina. We just didn’t have a physical relationship.”

  “You used her for business?” Dale stiffened. He had been down this route before and wasn’t about to see another woman used for convenience.

  “I thought I could manage a platonic relationship with Sabrina, but I realized recently that she and her father were expecting more from me than just taking her out for the occasional date. Sabrina wanted to take things into the bedroom, and her father was expecting me to give her a ring. And I don’t mean using the phone.” Ben leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I knew I had to break things off with her.”

  “Because you didn’t want that,” Dale said.

  Ben shook his head. “Going out with Sabrina was lazy and convenient, but it was wrong of me to lead her along. Although I might have ended up marrying her, because I’m a coward.”

  Dale frowned. “But you’re gay.”

  “I’m also someone who is expected to marry and produce heirs.”

  “So what stopped you?”

  Dale’s heart faltered when Ben leaned over and took his hand. “I met you.”

  “Me?” Dale thought he knew what Ben meant, but he wanted him to say it out loud so they didn’t have any misunderstandings between them.

  “The minute I laid eyes on you, I wanted to….”

  “To?”

  Ben glared at him. “Do I reall
y have to say this?”

  Dale smirked. “Yes, you do.”

  “Dale Maloney, I wanted you to take me to bed and fuck me senseless.”

  Dale patted Ben’s hand. “There, it wasn’t so hard to say, was it?”

  “You’re a dick,” Ben snapped.

  “True,” Dale agreed. “But I needed to know what you want from me. Thanks for ending things with Sabrina before you started things with me.”

  “I don’t know that I want to now,” Ben sniped, but he nodded as well. “Honestly, I am always faithful to my partners. I know I’m old-fashioned, but I don’t really care.”

  “You have integrity,” Dale said. “I like that. I’m old-fashioned too.”

  “And the idea of taking me to bed?”

  Their hands were still joined, a connection they both needed. “I can do that. But are you prepared to wait awhile? It’s still been only a few weeks since I split up from Baz, and I am still raw about that.”

  Ben picked up Dale’s hand and brushed his knuckles with his lips. “We can take as long as you want.”

  “It won’t be that long,” Dale promised.

  “As long as you want.” Ben seemed determined to reassure Dale, which Dale found amusing as he was usually the one leading the situation.

  “How did Sabrina take the news?” Dale asked.

  Ben huffed out a breath. “She was amazing. I thought at first we were going to have a blazing row in the middle of the restaurant, but by the end of it, I had employed her new firm of lawyers to take care of my business.”

  Dale blinked as he thought about it. “How did that happen?”

  “I have no idea, although I think I’m going to have to be really wary of Sabrina. Her father is a shark, but I have a feeling Sabrina is going to be even worse.”

  “If she is your lawyer, isn’t she meant to be on your side?”

  Ben shrugged and gave a short laugh. “In theory. Watch this space.”

  Dale was tired of talking about Sabrina. He started eating again, although he was still holding on to Ben’s hand and using his fork with the other. It was complicated, but he could manage it. Ben didn’t seem to object, and they finished their dinner in companionable silence.

  As they were drinking coffee, Dale glanced at his watch. “I can’t be too late tonight. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

  “How are you getting on at the fire station?”

  “If you’d asked me that before I took down the maypole, I’m sure my answer would have been different,” Dale said ruefully. “I don’t think they’re ever going to let me forget it. I now have fifteen L-plates sitting in Bertha.”

  Ben’s lips twitched, but he delicately said nothing.

  They finished the coffee, and Ben walked Dale to the huge wooden front doors.

  “I’m glad you came,” Ben said.

  Dale leaned in and brushed Ben’s ear with his mouth. “Next time I actually might.” He chuckled as Ben flushed. “Good night, your lordship.”

  “I look forward to it. Night, Dale.”

  Chapter Eight

  BEN watched Dale vanish into the darkness with a great deal of regret but also some relief. As much as he wanted to get Dale into his bed, Ben knew he had a great deal to sort out, and maybe some space wasn’t a bad idea. He closed the veranda doors and locked each one before he switched out the light and left the study.

  Colson emerged from the dining room to meet him. “Is there anything I can get you and Mr. Maloney, Mr. Ben?”

  “Dale has gone home. I think I’ll go to bed now.” Ben noticed the surprise on Colson’s face. “Whatever it is, spit it out.”

  “I thought Mr. Maloney would be staying the night,” Colson said.

  “Dale has an early start tomorrow. Go home, Colson. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Mr. Ben.” Colson bowed his head and then vanished toward the kitchen. He technically lived in a cottage on the estate, but quite often he slept at Calminster Hall, if he was too tired to go home. Ben didn’t mind who slept at the Hall if a senior member of staff knew they were there.

  Ben wandered up the stairs. He gave a massive yawn and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day, and he needed to sleep. His bedroom took up a large part of the east wing. It was more like a suite, with large bedroom, en suite bathroom, and a walk-in closet. Once upon a time, this had been the nursery area, and his parents slept in the west wing. When Ben had inherited the Hall, he decided to keep his bedroom where it was and make two smaller bedrooms out of his suite. He left his parents’ room, which was the master bedroom, as part of the guided tour they did during the summer season.

  Ben collapsed onto the bed and thought about the evening he’d just had. It was ironic that he’d fallen for a fireman, considering the explosive chemistry between them. He knew even if nothing happened, he’d made the right decision about Sabrina. His physical reaction to Dale was a hundred times more than he felt for her. Wearily, Ben got to his feet, stripped off, and padded into the bathroom. He cleaned his teeth and then came back into the bedroom to fall face-first onto his bed. He wondered what Dale was doing at this precise moment. Probably stumbling through the trees. Perhaps Ben ought to have offered him a lift home. A smile curved his lips. He wanted to offer Dale a ride, but it didn’t involve a car. He breathed out as all parts of his body registered its interest at riding Dale.

  “Next time,” Ben said into the darkness, “Next time, my fireman.”

  THREE days later Ben was working when he heard raised voices outside his study. One of them was definitely Colson, but he didn’t recognize the other voice. He frowned, not pleased at being disturbed, and was about to find out what was going on when the study door burst open.

  “You can’t go in there, Mr. Barrett.” Colson made an attempt to bar the way, but the man shoved him to one side. “I’m sorry, your lordship.”

  Fluffy and Fern growled, and Frankie snarled and yipped, but Barrett ignored them.

  “It’s okay, Colson.” Ben attempted a smile at his unwanted visitor. “Thomas, this is unexpected.” Maybe that was stretching it a little. He’d been expecting this confrontation since his meeting with Sabrina.

  Thomas Barrett, Sabrina’s father, scowled at Ben. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Calminster?” Barrett was as immaculately dressed as ever. Sabrina got her style and her sharklike temperament from her father.

  Ben ignored his outburst and looked at Colson. “Please, could you bring in coffee and take the dogs with you?”

  “Yes, your lordship.” Colson withdrew with an icy glare at Barrett, ushering the dogs out of the room. The three animals slunk out, clearly unhappy at being separated from their master in the face of potential danger.

  “Take a seat,” Ben said, settling himself in one of the armchairs.

  Barrett stalked over to the other armchair and sat down. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Calminster.”

  “Sabrina told you that we’re no longer seeing each other?” Ben said as calmly as he could.

  “You haven’t split up.” Thomas jabbed his finger at Ben, his face ruddy with rage. “You’ll marry my daughter.”

  Ben stared at him. “With all due respect, Barrett, my previous relationship with Sabrina is not your business, and my name is Lord Calminster.” Ben spent his whole life playing down his title, but not today. Barrett needed to be reminded who he was dealing with. Lord Muckety-Muck indeed.

  Barrett ignored the warning signal. “Of course it’s my business. She’s my daughter, and she’ll do as she’s told. You will marry her, and Barrett and Barrett will take over the Calminster estate as part of Calminster Enterprises.”

  “You seem to be laboring under a misapprehension. I’ve never had any intention of letting your company take over the Calminster estate. It was never part of the deal, and I’m certainly not marrying your daughter.”

  “Yes, you bloody well are. Calminster Hall is going to be the flagship hotel of Barrett Media and Leisure. Our weddi
ng will be the society wedding of the decade.”

  Our wedding? Ben gritted his teeth and restrained the urge to smack the living daylights out of his guest. Barrett had ambitions that stretched beyond business. He wanted to get into society and saw Ben and Calminster as his access to a status that, thus far, had been out of his reach. All the Barrett money hadn’t been able to break the class barrier; Ben was the means to change that.

  “I’m sorry, Thomas, but Sabrina and I have come to an understanding—”

  Barrett sprung to his feet. “If you think I’m going let you walk away after all the time and money I’ve spent organizing this merger, you’re very mistaken, Calminster. I don’t care if you’re a poof, you’re doing what you’re fucking told to do.”

  “I think you ought to leave now, Barrett.” Ben stood as well, unwilling to let the man dominate him.

  “You will marry my daughter!” Barrett spat, clenching his fists.

  Sure Barrett was about to take a swing, Ben prepared himself to tackle him. Although Barrett was taller and broader than him, Ben was fitter and ready to knock the bastard out if necessary. But before either one of them could make a move, there was a knock at the door.

  Ben kept his eyes on Barrett as he said, “Enter.”

  Colson opened the door, but instead of coffee, he ushered Dale in. He’d obviously warned Dale there was an issue, because Dale looked as if he was prepared for a fight, his eyes cold and his expression resolute.

  “Mr. Barrett is just leaving, Colson.”

  “Certainly, your lordship,” Colson said. “Mr. Barrett—?”

  Barrett ignored Colson and turned on Ben. “This isn’t over.”

  “Our business is finished,” Ben said firmly. “Go home before I call the police and have you arrested for trespass.”

  “Security is on their way,” Colson said.

  Ben knew this was code for they were waiting outside the door and by the windows, and one yell would bring them in. Still, he wanted to keep things civilized. “Please just go home, Barrett. We can talk another day.”

 

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