The Fireman's Pole

by Sue Brown

  Then he needed to take time with one of his smaller companies that wasn’t doing so well. It made garden equipment by hand for the specialized user. They were luxury goods, and he knew he was feeding a dying market. But some of the people had been working there since his father’s time. To shut it down would have consequences for a lot of them. Ben sighed. He loved running the businesses, but he hated making tough decisions that involved making people redundant. That was the difference between him and Barrett or Freely. Neither of them had any hesitation in winding up a business that wasn’t making a profit. To them it was just that, business.

  Jessica came in with the coffeepot. “Mr. Freely says he’ll be about fifteen minutes. I’ve arranged lunch for 12:30 in the Blue room.”

  “Thank you,” Ben murmured.

  She smiled and left him alone to go to her desk. He knew if he needed anything, he only had to call.

  He sat down and reviewed the nonprofit programmes for teenagers. Before Freely came into the room, Ben had a good idea which skills he thought they should be training the kids in. All of them were something that they could take into the outside world. Ben was a firm believer that not every child was academic. Although he’d enjoyed studying, his sister had hated school and couldn’t wait to leave. She now ran her own company, very successfully. In fact, Ben often asked for her advice because she had a sound business mind.

  The door opened and Freely strode in. “Benedict, my boy, good to see you.”

  Ben stood and held out his hand. “Uncle Edmund, how are you?”

  “Oh, doing well. Jessica?” Freely yelled for his PA.

  She hurried into the room. “Yes, Mr. Freely?”

  “More coffee for us both, please, and biscuits. I’m starving.”

  Ben cleared away his work, and they sat. He waited for Freely to speak, knowing the man was giving him a speculative look.

  “Barrett came to see me.”

  “I thought he would,” Ben said calmly.

  “He’s not happy with you.”

  “I know that too.”

  Freely huffed and stopped talking as Jessica came back in with a tray. She poured the coffee and left the biscuits, quietly leaving the room. Ben was relieved. If this was a serious meeting, she would have stayed. The fact that she left meant Freely had something to say, but it wasn’t essential.

  “He told me about you and Sabrina.”

  Ben said nothing.

  “Glad to see you came to your senses.”

  Ben stared at him. That was the last thing he’d expected Freely to say. “You don’t mind?”

  “Sabrina would have eaten you alive.”

  “You know she’s my lawyer now?”

  Freely gave a smirk. “I’d heard. Barrett is spitting feathers.”

  “She’s a good lawyer.”

  “She is. That’s why Freely & Sons have her on retainer.”

  Ben snorted into his coffee cup. No wonder she’d been so sure of Freely’s reaction. “She didn’t tell me that.”

  “I don’t pay her to have a loose tongue. Bradshaw, Logan, and Winslet has been working for us since she set up the new firm.”

  “Why did you hire her? I thought you and Barrett had issues?” Ben asked.

  Freely smiled. “She told you that, did she?”

  Ben shrugged. “Was it a secret?”

  “No. I told her to tell you. Barrett is an oik who’s done well for himself. I’m not a snob….”

  Ben grinned inwardly because he’d never met a bigger snob than Freely. “You don’t like him.”

  “I don’t like the way he works, and I don’t like the way he treats people.”

  “You have to admit he’s good at business. He started Barrett and Barrett with nothing. Barrett Media and Leisure is one of the top in the industry.” Ben couldn’t help the dig, as Freely had inherited his business as Ben had. Both had done well, but Ben always acknowledged he had a head start in life.

  The dig obviously went over Freely’s head, or he ignored it, because he just carried on. “Barrett wants me to sell my shares to him.”

  Ben frowned. “Why would he need to do that?”

  “He’s determined to have you by the balls, Ben. You not only rejected his daughter. You rejected all the plans he had.”

  “I told him I was happy for two of our businesses to merge.”

  “He still wants Calminster Enterprises, the estate, and the Hall,” Freely said.

  “I told him that wasn’t going to happen.”

  Freely shrugged. “You may have said that, but it’s not what he heard.”

  “There is no way he’s getting his hands on my home to make his”—Ben pulled a face—“art-nouveau-designed hotel or whatever crap he has in mind.” Maybe Ben did have a touch of snobbery about him, but Calminster Hall was his ancestral home, not a fucking hotel for Barrett’s golf buddies.

  “You know I agree with you.”

  “So you told him you weren’t going to sell?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Ben stared at him. “What exactly?”

  “Sabrina suggested I play the long game with Barrett. Let him think I’m interested.”

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Ben murmured.

  Freely inclined his head. “I’ve always found it a wise strategy.”

  “And what about the fact I’m gay?”

  Freely’s mouth tightened. “I assume nothing I can say will make a difference to your actions.”

  “I’m not going back into the closet again,” Ben said.

  “Then I see little point talking about it.”

  “But you don’t approve.”

  “My approval is irrelevant, Benedict. I cannot agree with your lifestyle choice. However, you are the son of my closest friend, and a good businessman. I don’t want to force you out of my life. Let’s leave it there.”

  And, like that, Ben knew the matter was closed. There was no point pushing the discussion anymore. Freely didn’t approve, but he would ignore it for the sake of their relationship, and Ben had to take it or leave it. He chose to accept it—for business and because Freely was almost family.

  “Shall we have lunch?” Freely asked. “Then we can discuss what to do with Barrett.”

  Ben got to his feet. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “I always have ideas, my boy. However, most of them aren’t legal.”

  “No wonder you retained Sabrina. You’re two of a kind.”

  “Let’s eat.” Freely guided Ben out of the room. “You’ll feel better after panfried trout. I caught them myself.”

  “I’m honored.”

  “Of course you are. I’d expect nothing less.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  DALE squinted at his phone again. Ben’s text was cryptic, to say the least.

  2pm. Left at the end of the Long Walk, walk towards the Rose Garden, round the old lord, and look right.

  Ben had left Dale to sleep in while he disappeared downstairs to work, but while Dale was asleep, Ben had sent him a text.

  “What the hell is the old lord?” Dale muttered as he surveyed the Rose Garden.

  “Over there. The bust of the first Lord Calminster.”

  Dale jumped as Tim spoke. He hadn’t noticed Tim approach him from behind. “Jesus, don’t do that!”

  “Sorry. You sounded lost.” Tim grinned at him. Okay, the grin was more of a smirk, but Dale ignored him.

  “Ben—Lord Calminster—sent me a text.”

  “He’s up there.” Tim pointed to a round stone blob that looked nothing like a human. Right at the old lord.

  “Cheers.”

  Dale loped up the path, but there was still no sign of Ben. He reached the weatherworn stone bench. “Ben?” he said, a touch uncertain now.

  “Hi.” Ben emerged between two yew hedges. “Finally.”

  “Hey.” Dale took a long look at Ben, who was wearing an open-necked blue shirt and jeans, one or two hairs showing above the vee of the shirt. He smi
led at Ben and held out his arms. Ben stepped into them and they kissed. Dale licked his lips. “You taste of wine.”

  “I’ve been waiting awhile,” Ben admitted. “I opened the bottle.”

  “Sorry, I was lost.”

  “Did Tim find you?”

  “You put him there?”

  Ben grinned. “Just in case.”

  Dale huffed, but he wasn’t that mad. “I thought you were feeding me.”

  “I am.” Ben took Dale’s hand and drew him through the gap in the hedges. “And if you’re lucky—”

  “Fuck me!” Dale stared at the scene before him. Rugs and cushions were laid out, with a wicker basket to one side, and two glasses of wine, one of them half-full.

  “Later.” Ben smirked. “Let’s eat first.”

  He tugged Dale down, and they made themselves comfortable on the cushions. Ben opened the wicker basket, and Dale’s jaw dropped.

  “My idea of a picnic is a sandwich and a packet of crisps from Sainsbury’s, maybe Marks and Spencer if I’m splashing out.”

  Ben snorted. “Mrs. Wilson would kill me if I bought a sandwich.” He unloaded the chicken, beef, freshly made bread, salad, homemade coleslaw, pies—

  “How many people are coming to the picnic?” Dale asked.

  “Just you and me. She wasn’t sure what you’d eat, so she packed everything.”

  Dale shook his head. “Mrs. Wilson is amazing.”

  “She is. I’m glad she’s back.”

  Mrs. Wilson had insisted she start work again, although Lisa was there, by her side, if she needed help. Ben had confided to Dale that he didn’t know how long Mrs. Wilson would be able to cope, but no one was going to deny her the chance to work as long as she wanted.

  Ben handed Dale a plate. “Fill it up.”

  Dale loaded his plate with meat and salad, and Ben gave him a hunk of bread. They didn’t talk for a while, beyond the odd moans as Dale took the first mouthful of Mrs. Wilson’s cooking. Eventually Dale declared he couldn’t eat another morsel.

  “That’s a shame,” Ben said.

  “Why?”

  Ben reached into the basket and pulled out a container full of strawberries and grapes, and a smaller pot of dark chocolate sauce. “I thought we could feed each other and then get on with the fucking. Colson is under orders not to disturb us.”

  Dale was never one to ignore a challenge. “Give me five minutes and then you’re on.”

  They piled away the rest of the food back into the basket, banked the cushions, and lay back for a while to let the huge lunch settle.

  Ben snuggled against Dale. “I miss you when you work nights.”

  “I miss you too.” Dale inhaled the fresh citrus scent of Ben’s hair and held him closer. “Mick’s just not as much fun as you.”

  “Arse.”

  “Don’t hit me or I’ll hurl,” Dale warned.

  “I haven’t got the energy to hit you. Maybe later.”

  Dale stroked Ben’s hair. “You sound tired.”

  “I was working most of the night. Barrett’s causing trouble again.”

  “I thought Sabrina was dealing with him.”

  Ben sighed. “She is.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. Why is he being such an arsehole?”

  “He’s not used to anyone saying no.” Ben rolled onto his side and looked at Dale. “I damaged his business and his ego. He thought he had me tied up in a neat little bundle. I’d marry Sabrina. He’d get his hands on my business, the Hall, and my position in society. When I broke off the relationship, I was saying no to him, not Sabrina. I’ve met a lot of men like him. Money brings power but it doesn’t always bring status, and that’s what he wants.”

  Dale worried his bottom lip for a moment before he spoke. “You know I don’t give a shit about that, don’t you?”

  “What?” Ben asked.

  “Status. Money and status.”

  “You’re worried I think you’re a gold-digger?”

  Dale nodded. “I’ve got nothing except my house back in Nottingham and some savings.”

  Ben sat up, sitting cross-legged to face Dale. “And I’ve got status, money, and a title?”

  “What can I offer you—apart from the obvious?” Dale added at Ben’s wicked expression.

  “My staff like you.”

  “That’s nice,” Dale said, not sure why that was relevant.

  Ben traced a random path over Dale’s thighs, which was distracting to say the least. “They’ve never liked anyone before, and I mean anyone. You, they liked from the start. Yeah, it occurred to all of us you might be interested in me for the money.”

  “So what makes me different?” Dale really wanted to know what Ben saw in him.

  Ben counted them off on his fingers. “You have integrity and morals. You didn’t like Baz cheating. You didn’t like the thought I was using Sabrina. You immediately offered to repair the maypole. You were prepared to throw Barrett out for me. You hated even the idea that you were responsible for the fires—”

  Dale chuckled. “Okay, I get the gist. You like me.”

  “More than like you, sweetheart.” Ben’s gaze grew heated.

  He reached over, picked a strawberry from the container, and dipped it in the sauce, then used it to trace Dale’s lips. Dale’s cock thickened in his jeans as Ben leaned forward to lick away the sweetness. Ben repeated the action, and Dale licked his lips this time; then Ben fed him the strawberry. Dale bit into it, closing his mouth around Ben’s fingertips. Their gazes locked on each other.

  Dale rested his hands on Ben’s hips. Neither of them moved for a long while. Then Ben kissed him again. Dale made a noise deep in his throat, and still kissing him, he wrapped his arms around Ben, rolling him over until Ben was on his back. He wanted Ben and he wanted him now. He straddled Ben’s hips and leaned forward to undo the top button of Ben’s shirt. Ben grabbed his hands, and Dale paused.

  “Do you want me to stop?” It suddenly occurred to Dale that Ben might not want to fuck there, where anyone could interrupt them.

  “I wanted to check you were okay.”

  Dale was touched. “I’m fine, and I really need to fuck.”

  Ben gave a shaky laugh. “Oh God, me too.”

  He let go of Dale’s hands, and Dale undid the buttons, pushing the shirt aside to look at him. A crimson flush spread up Ben’s chest and throat. He was stunning; all lean muscle and a light smattering of dark hair. Dale devoured his fill and then helped Ben take off the rest of his clothes.

  “Are you going to get undressed?” Ben asked when Dale made no move to strip.

  “Not yet.” Dale wanted to savor the moment.

  Dale felt the tension thrumming through Ben’s muscles, but he was aroused, his long dick hard and glistening at the tip.

  “I want to see you.” Ben almost whined in anticipation.

  Dale stood and stripped off his clothes. Maybe he gave Ben more of a show than usual, but he didn’t take his time.

  “You’re—” Ben stared at Dale’s cock with a hungry expression on his face. “Hurry up.”

  Dale jacked his dick a couple of times, pulling the foreskin back for Ben to get a proper look. He smeared the drop of precome resting in the slit over the head. Ben got to his knees and leaned forward, his mouth at Dale’s cock. He didn’t take; he asked so nicely. Dale smeared Ben’s lips with his precome, and Dale nearly shot his load at the pretty sight of Ben’s glistening mouth.

  “Jesus!” Dale bent down and licked the taste of himself from Ben’s lips.

  Ben stayed passive for a moment; then he sat back on his heels. “I want your cock in my mouth.”

  Dale raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking or demanding?”

  In response, Ben got back on his hands and knees and opened his mouth, and Dale’s dick decided it didn’t care what the answer was. It just wanted to sink into that warm cavern and play the hokey-cokey. Dale tangled his fingers in Ben’s hair and guided them both until Ben’s mouth was around the head. Ben’s bl
ue eyes were huge and his lips stretched thin around the shaft.

  “You look fucking amazing,” Dale whispered and gently touched Ben’s cheek, feeling himself in there. Ben hummed, and the vibrations went through Dale. He had to close his eyes and recite the seven-times table just to hold on to what little control he had.

  Ben pulled back and licked over the glans, making sure he caught the sensitive part just under the head. Dale sank into the sensation of Ben’s magical touch until it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

  “Suck it,” Dale ordered.

  Once again, Ben sank around Dale’s dick until Dale could feel the throat muscles tickling the sensitive tip. Dale stared questioningly down at Ben, who nodded. He grabbed Ben’s head and started to fuck his mouth, not slamming into the back of Ben’s throat but needing to control the rhythm. It was messy and fabulous, and Dale didn’t take long before he felt his balls tighten and his body prepare to climax. He’d expected to fuck Ben, but he couldn’t wait. He came with a shout, his back arching, and pumping into Ben’s mouth with abandon. Ben took it all, took him and the come spurting out of Dale’s dick like he was made for Dale.

  Dale had heard the phrase “his brain shot out of his dick” but he’d never actually experienced it until this moment. Ben had taken everything he had to offer and then some. When Ben finally let him go, Dale slumped forward. Ben guided him back to the cushions and snuggled next to him.

  “Your turn,” Dale mumbled, feeling a hot, swollen shaft against his belly. “Gonna have to wait a minute. Body off-line.”

  Ben chuckled. “Don’t take too long. I’ve got plans for you.” His voice sounded hoarse and well used.

  Dale cracked open one eye. “What plans?”

  “Wait and see.”

  The smug tone would have worried Dale if he could’ve worked up the energy. Finally, he felt the strength returning to his limbs and his dick, just about the time Ben started humping his belly, slivers of precome painting Dale’s skin. “Your turn?”

  “My turn,” Ben happily agreed.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “You can lie on your back.”

  Dale thought that was a great idea and rolled over onto his back. “What now?”