by B. D. Roca
“He’s a happy guy,” Kemp said softly, in a husky undertone. “No reason for you not to have the same. Any child of yours would be so blessed and loved.”
Was he really so transparent? Charles wanted to laugh. Yes, of course he was. At least to this man.
Charles caught Kemp’s hand and brushed a kiss over the knuckles. “You can read me so easily.”
“You’re all about family, Charles. I love that about you. And I’d love for us to have a family together.”
Charles felt warmth spread like liquid gold through his chest.
He considered the small, leather-covered box in his jacket pocket. Kemp was not one for bling, for glitter, but after that brief conversation, he had a feeling that his lover might be more than happy to wear the ring it contained: a raw champagne diamond, roughly polished, not faceted, in a textured band with a scattering of smaller grey diamonds.
No, not conventional, but Kemp was his raw, rough diamond, utterly treasured, and as yells and a cheer erupted at the head of this, the main table, he could not look away from the man by his side.
Would the next wedding held at Three Cats be Kemp and Charles’? Kemp only had to say yes.
Charles smiled at the best man’s speech and savoured the evening ahead.
Kemp’s gaze went from Charles to steady for a moment on Viva’s flushed, smiling face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look this happy, this relaxed. He knew he’d never felt this real sense of peace and joy settle quite so fully through his own bones before.
Soft, dancing lights and laughter and friends about them, Kemp lifted his glass of Cristal in a toast to the newlywed couple and considered the last few years.
Time had brought some huge changes. He’d declared the band’s last tour would be his final one, and without the road to hold them together, the band had splintered. Oh, the guys were all here tonight—they were brothers to him, and loved Viva—but the musical bond between Murphy and him was the only one that had truly lasted. They’d created the soundtrack to Viva’s first feature film, and the success of that had taken them both in a huge and glittering new direction.
More than all of that, he got to spend more time with Charles. The loneliness of the road and missing the man just too damned much during that last tour had been a catalyst.
Their lives had settled. Kemp had studios set up in both their homes. They had the Vaucluse place as a base, and Kemp had bought a getaway house for them by the water in Auckland.
Charles’ career as a photographer had gone from strength to strength. His exhibitions sold out. The commissions he did accept were prestigious. He’d well and truly kicked aside the last traces of his heritage, taking total ownership of his life and fortune.
That had included Charles’ setting up a charitable foundation in his mother’s name.
Now, Kemp impatiently freed the black silk tie from about his neck, unbuttoned his shirt at the throat. The action nudged the piercing in his nipple. He’d gotten the piercings to tease Charles, since Charles’ guiche piercings had always turned Kemp the fuck on, but it turned out the barbells through each nipple had been a massive turn-on for himself as well.
Truly, they were the gift that kept on giving.
He turned and ran his hand over Charles’ knee. The fabric of his dark blue Brioni suit was immaculate, discreetly silken under his touch—much like Charles himself. Kemp thought about later tonight, and the privacy of the guesthouse-stables that was their accommodation for the next few days. As much as he was loving every minute of today, he could hardly wait to get his cool, contained photographer alone.
Across the table, Dylan was laughing softly while his daughter, now awake, held on to his finger with a determined grip.
That. He wanted that joy for Charles—and by extension, himself.
Fatherhood, and his own blood as family, Charles and himself parenting their own brood of fierce little blond Vikings. Seeing Charles’ face a minute ago had stirred a question he hadn’t known he had. Now he wanted to get the answers. Leaning over, he wrapped an arm around Charles’ neck, breathing in the subtle scent of his cologne, and murmured, “Love you, babe. So much. You gonna have the energy for a big talk later?”
The smile Charles turned on him was radiant. His man had never looked happier. “All the energy in the world, love. A big talk?”
There was a particular, mysterious, and purposeful glint in those blue eyes that intrigued Kemp.
He was determined to get to the cause of it. Something told him it would be fun.
“Yeah. A big talk. The biggest there is.” Kemp leant in and gave his man a passionate, hungry kiss. “Later, right?”
Charles nodded and ran a hand possessively up, over Kemp’s chest, gently pressing the barbell.
His mouth curled at Kemp’s shiver. “Later.”
It was a promise. It was everything. And when they drew apart, it was with the unspoken agreement that it was going to be a long, wild, and wonderful night for them both. One that was the beginning of even more.
Later had never sounded so good.
* * *
The End
Thank you!
I really hope you enjoyed Loverman! I loved writing Kemp and Charles’ story. I hope you loved them a little too. Reader feedback is the lifeblood of a book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads or the platform of your choice. It can make a huge difference.
About the Author
BD Roca grew up in Brisbane, Australia and still misses the scent of frangipani and living in funky old Queensland houses. When not writing, she enjoys yoga, and the occasional glass of pinot, although not in combination. She can be reached at [email protected].
www.bdroca.wordpress.com