The Driver

by Heidi Austin

  His cheeks were slightly flushed but the pain I had caused was written all over his face.

  I watched him look away from me, his expression awkward. Cal was such an enigma. He clearly wanted to know what I was going to say but was pretending with everything he had that he didn’t care.

  He was staring at the wall and when he spoke his voice was very quiet.

  “I never got with any of those girls, you know.” He sounded so tired. “I just had them in the back because I didn't want a driver. My dad insists on me having one, flashing about the streets in a fucking Rolls Royce, for Christ’s sake. Could I look like any more of a pretentious dick? But it’s also his way of keeping tabs on me. The last guy, Peter, was super religious and it used to really annoy him if I took girls around London with me, especially if there was more than one in a night. I figured I got rid of him that way, maybe it would work on you, too. It didn’t seem to piss you off so much, though, no matter what I did.” He chuckled. “I think I had four women in with me at one point and you didn’t report back to my Dad about it. I was just really confused as to why you weren’t in his pocket like all the others.”

  I was so intrigued by this point that I couldn’t help asking the questions that had caused a little bubble of happiness to form in my chest.

  “If you weren’t getting off with them, what the hell were you doing? How did you get rid of them so quickly?”

  He shrugged. “I’m actually pretty nice to most of them. I’ll ask them where they’re headed for the evening when I meet them at whatever venue I’m in. I’ll ask them if they want to go somewhere classy and I’ll offer to pay. We travel there and then I used to ask them to act really pissed off, or come in with me for a bit, but I always told them it was fine if they wanted to go their own way once we got inside. Sometimes we actually hung out for a while; I think a lot of them just liked getting selfies with me, to be honest. Most of them were pretty normal. Not all of them, though. That girl-” he paused frowning.

  “Kayla.”

  A triumphant smile. I grimaced at him. “Yeah, her. She seemed a bit crazy. She thought I was going to marry her or something, I think. The great Cal Emerson being interested in her, or whatever. I always feel really bad when that happens but most of the time they’re just happy to get a journey out of me and some free champagne.” He sighed. “I thought you'd resign pretty quickly. You seemed so bored all the time and you aren’t intimidated by my Dad at all. I just figured you were going to get tired of it.”

  The rain was louder now, a steady drumbeat in the background.

  “But I didn’t.” I replied quietly.

  He laughed, a scowl on his lips. “No. You just kept putting up with my shit and no matter what I tried it didn’t work, and then you were being nice to me and took me for pancakes and helped save my Grandma.” His voice cracked a little on the last word. He cleared his throat and then frowned again, looking faintly angry. “And you’re fucking hot.” He sighed. “I get that I’m twenty five, and you’re about fifty six,” I choked on my drink, “and you think I’m an immature little idiot, but whoever the world thinks Cal Emerson is, he isn’t me. That’s not really what I’m like.” He sighed. “Then I woke up in your flat, you got home and it was painfully obvious you thought it was.”

  I stared at him, this fragile and vulnerable man in a bath tub three sizes too big for him, and felt the guilt flow through my veins. This was my fault. I had believed the tabloids, I had believed the mask he put up to the world without even trying to see beneath the surface and now I was paying the price.

  Then something he said hit me and I tried to think back to the schedule for the day, whether there had been anything unusual about it Other than the impromptu meeting with his father, it had been business as usual. Cal hadn’t had many calls, hadn’t seemed to check his phone that much.

  “Did you just say you’re twenty five?”

  I watched the blush get deeper on his face but he didn’t jump in and tell me I was wrong so I knew I was right. It was his birthday. He hadn’t celebrated in any way that I could see, except picking up a stray arsehole from a bar and having me kick him out.

  He looked over at me and shrugged and I had such a violent urge to make everything right I almost felt desperate with it for a few seconds.

  I stood up and put down my cup. He looked over at me a little startled but then he relaxed with a slow smile on his face as I peeled off my clothes and walked over to the bath.

  Cal scooted up to one end so fast that he spilled some hot chocolate. He looked at the swirling brown stain that quickly dissipated and huffed, irritably. I got in, doing the same dance with my cup as he had done, and eventually we were opposite one another, legs entangled, awkwardly holding cocoa instead of each other and I just gave him a look that seemed to shut us both up for a while.

  It was brief and wonderful, and probably the happiest I had felt for weeks. I poured some of my drink into his cup to replace the part he’d spilled and we both relaxed at either end of the bath, listening to the rain on the window, and saying nothing at all.

  It was after about three minutes of silence, when I looked up and saw he had closed his eyes, resting his head back against the back of the bath, with a half-smile on his face, and realised I was falling in love with this stupid little brat. I drained the last of my drink and burned my tongue.

  Fucking typical.

  ~

  It was a while before Cal stirred. He had finished the cake with much enthusiasm and had given me some detailed notes to send back to Martin, which had done wonders to entirely kill my erection.

  Unfortunately, it only needed the brush of his knee to awaken it again. He grinned at me, but it didn’t seem to be in relation to anything other than contentment.

  “We should get out, before we turn into prunes.”

  I offered my hand and he pulled himself up in all his beautiful glory and we got out one after another. It was an odd few minutes, toweling off without any hint of an innuendo from Cal. He seemed almost too exhausted to try, and I watched as he dropped his towel on the floor and padded away to find some pyjamas.

  He came back with two pairs and eyed me appreciatively as I put them on, but now it was my turn to ignore him. I was feeling more and more unsettled in this almost domestic world we’d created. He was assuming I was staying the night, yet providing me with pyjama bottoms instead of a cock to suck. I was confused, and he was starting to pick up on it.

  “You don’t have to stay.” I saw the same vulnerability in his eyes as he watched me. “But it is three in the morning.”

  I shrugged, feigning nonchalance and tried a half smile. “How many bedrooms are there in this flat?”

  I was worried he would take it as another rejection, as well he might, but he shook his head good naturedly and gestured for me to follow him. We ended up in a beautifully presented room, all dark blues and golds. He waved at the enormous bed and the ensuite.

  “My room is that one.” He pointed at the open doorway across the corridor and walked over to stand in it, pointedly. “Thanks for getting that douche to leave.”

  “Maybe stop picking up random guys in the middle of the night.” I said, automatically.

  His eyes snapped to me and then ran down the length of my body and back up again. I knew he would be able to see my erection. “So, familiar guys are ok?”

  “Goodnight, Cal.” He just laughed and walked into his room, closing the door gently. I listened to his footfalls as they walked over the floorboards and then I heard the unmistakable collapse of bed springs as he flopped onto his mattress.

  I shook my head. I was sleeping within five feet of him, and I couldn’t honestly work out why. At this point I had already had the revelation from him that he actually found me attractive and was apparently into men. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he hadn’t been with every single one of the women he’d picked up over the last few months, and there had been a lot of women. I wondered what he said to them in the
privacy of the back of my car, whether he had a patter that he used, or just told them he wasn’t interested in anything other than companionship.

  Either way his little story just made me care for him a little bit more, and I was starting to lose the battle my brain was having with my cock.

  I knew that it was a mistake, I knew that getting closer to this kid was stupid, and that it would only lead to me getting my heart broken, but I was going to do it all the same.

  I walked to his bedroom door and stood outside it for several seconds, looking at the painted pale grey wood and wondering what the hell I was thinking, but the idea of all of that naked skin and the beautiful Cal Emerson laid out under me was too tempting to pass up. Not to mention I hadn’t had sex in far too long and every time I’d tried all I could think about was him.

  I opened the door.

  Cal’s dark eyes were already glued in my direction as I leaned against the door frame. We watched each other for about a minute, neither of us moving.

  Then he pushed the covers down the bed and I walked into the room, shutting the door and coming to stand at the base of the bed.

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  Cal smiled, kicking the covers off completely and pulling off his pyjama bottoms, which was all he was wearing. My eyes zeroed in on his cock.

  He arched off the bed, his naked body and hard erection lithe and long and all mine. “Mmm.” He seemed to be agreeing, but then he fisted his cock and I forgot what else I had been going to say.

  I was still in my incredibly sexy pyjamas, but Cal didn’t seem to mind as he continued to stroke his cock and I finally blew any doubts I still had to the winds and crawled onto the bed. He stopped as his fist bumped against my chest and he looked down appreciatively at me.

  “You look fucking hot in my clothes.”

  He started unbuttoning the pyjama top and about two buttons in got bored and ripped it open, pulling it back off my shoulders with a grunt.

  “I wouldn’t have taken you for a man who likes satin pyjamas.”

  He groaned as I stopped keeping my weight off him and sank down against the full length of his body. He had to be able to feel how turned on I was.

  “What can I say; I’m a traditionalist, just like Daddy.”

  “One, you’re nothing like your father, and two, I really don’t want to be thinking about him while I have you naked underneath me.”

  His fingers fisted in my hair and he dragged me down into a kiss that nearly blew my head off. His tongue thrust hard into my mouth at the same time as he ground his hips against mine. I groaned against him, my hands coming up beneath him to cradle his back and I started to grind back against him, taking control of the kiss as I finally had the chance to feel all of his naked skin.

  He moaned into my mouth and then pulled away from me with a gasp as I fisted his cock.

  “Shit, fuck.” He muttered the words with his eyes closed.

  “If you come, I’ll just get you hard again, I have no problem with taking as much time as we need.”

  He half laughed and then swallowed with a sexy little grunt as I jacked him slowly, watching his beautiful face come undone for me.

  “Tell me what you want.” I said softly.

  He shuddered under me as I kept up with the languid back and forth of my fist.

  “I … I don’t know what you want.” He stammered, his hips punching up toward me again.

  “That doesn’t matter right now; I just want whatever makes you feel good.”

  “Jesus, Jay, I really want you to fuck me.”

  I paused looking at him carefully, he was blushing and his eyes were closed, so I gently took his chin between the thumb and forefinger of the hand that wasn’t currently occupied and made him look at me.

  “Are you sure?”

  He huffed a breath out and closed his eyes again. “I have been thinking about nothing else for months, so if you want it I am one hundred percent sure.”

  I smiled, because there was no way I was letting him see how much those words affected me, or how worried it made me feel to understand that the possibility of this happening had preoccupied us both for a long time.

  “Okay,” I moved down the bed so I could kneel below him. “Roll over for me.”

  He looked at me quizzically for a second, but then did as he was told. I hadn’t seen his arse up close and naked before and he looked back at me from a twisted position lying on his front with a cocky grin as he watched me stroke my dick as I looked at it.

  “You have a phenomenal arse.” I grinned at him, trying to make this as light and playful as possible while my stupid heart beat a thunderous rhythm against my rib cage.

  I stroked one cheek and then the other and he seemed content with that as he rested his head on his forearms and let me explore. I pulled his cheeks apart and felt his breath hitch as I bent down and licked his hole.

  “Oh, Christ.” He shuddered again as I kept going and he started to rub against the mattress with abandon as I gently replaced my tongue with the tip of my finger. As he tensed I removed it and went right back to rimming him, and he relaxed again.

  I continued for several minutes, gently coaxing him open as he groaned into the mattress. After a little time his head shot up and he tried to move away from me, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that, fuck.”

  “Okay.” I said conversationally and then flipped him onto his back. He made a small cry of amazement and it occurred to me that he probably wasn’t aware of how strong I was. I grinned at him just before I swallowed his cock. He shouted so loudly I could hear the echo bouncing back from the ensuite and then he came almost instantly, hitting the back of my throat, keening off the bed with a graceful arch, fists clenched and neck muscles straining, before he collapsed back onto the sheets and stared at me as though I’d just blown the top off the world.

  “Fuck, sorry,” he looked awkward. “That was just, really hot.” I swallowed, as discreetly as I could, and then sat back on my heels. “We’re not done, right?” He looked worried.

  I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

  He blushed, and I smiled at him pulling him down the bed toward me so I could kiss him. I paused, briefly, aware that he might not want to do that right at this second, but he pulled me down on top of him and for a few blissful minutes we were just kissing to the soundtrack of the rain on the roof.

  “I really want to have sex.”

  I laughed and then quickly explained myself, so he didn’t think I was laughing at him. “Me too, but I just don’t want you to feel like -”

  “I don’t.”

  I shook my head with a small smile. “Do you have lube, condoms?”

  He pointed toward the bedside table on the left of his bed and I pulled the drawer out and got the supplies. I was still painfully hard, and really wanted this to be a good experience for him.

  “Have you done this before?” I tried to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but didn’t quite manage it.

  “Once. I haven’t been with that many guys because the tabloids would have a field day, but I’ve done it. Er...it wasn’t something I enjoyed that much.” He sounded almost apologetic. “But when it comes to you I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “I want you to promise me you’ll tell me if you want to stop.”

  He rolled his eyes at me.

  “I’m serious, non-negotiable.”

  “I promise. I’ll scream, ok?” He said with a half chuckle and I shoved him playfully. I realised at that point this was by the far the most relaxed I had ever been during sex. He made me feel calm in a way I hadn’t ever been with my other bed partners. One-night stands were always fun, but they were also strangers, so you were constantly trying to work out what the other person wanted or liked, and a lot of the time you never got the answers. With Cal I could imagine finding my way around his body for hours, learning what he loved, what he really loved, and driving him crazy for nights and nig
hts together.

  My brain short circuited at that point because it very much sounded like I was thinking of a relationship with this man, and I couldn’t afford to get sucked into that spiral again. It was fun to be with him, and I was enjoying myself to a stupid degree, but that was it. It didn’t need to mean anything else.

  I opened the lube and was surprised when he interrupted the stream and coated his own fingers with it.

  “I’m prepping you.” I said emphatically.

  “You don’t have to, I can -”

  “I don’t have to, I want to, stop taking all my fun.”

  He sighed, but still looked a bit uncomfortable. I ignored it but kept myself tuned into his expression, because I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable with me. Quite the opposite.

  “I’m gonna go slow.” I bit back the urge to insist he tell me if he didn’t like something again, and had to trust that he would. For someone with such a mouth on him, Cal was being pretty quiet now I had him where I wanted him.

  His cock was trying its best at another erection - oh to be twenty five again - and I stroked it lazily as I moved back to where I really wanted to be. He twitched, still sensitive, with an adorable half-squeal of laughter as I pinched his thigh, and then I was all business again.

  I pushed his legs back so they were bent back against his chest and watched him as I stroked his entrance. He seemed fairly fascinated by what I was doing and barely looked away, until I finally pushed the end of my finger inside him, and then he closed his eyes, tensed up a little and frowned.

  “You okay?”

  “I thought this would be easier.”

  “In what sense?”

  He laughed, and I took the opportunity to push my finger a little further inside. He hissed, but in a good way this time.

  “I hate talking.” He sounded almost angry with himself.

  “No you don’t. I can never get you to shut up. If you tense up that’s ok, I’m going to take as long as I need until you’re begging for it.”

  He seemed to relax a little, but I continued with the slow gentle movements for a long time, longer than I’d ever spent with a lover in the past. It occurred to me that everyone I’d ever been with had been experienced in one way or another, bottom or top. I usually liked to top guys, but I’d also had some great experiences the other way around. This time I started to really watch his face, something I rarely did with such concentration with a stranger from a nightclub. I watched each twitch of his muscles, being careful to absorb them all, aware that I didn’t want to get this wrong, and also keen to see how he reacted when -