Page 34 of Darling
“Porn?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, that. Few things on earth are more intimate than prayer or sex, and I don’t pray anymore. But I also do it because I enjoy it, because I’m good at it, and because it makes me feel great. I like sex. I like being fucked; on camera and off.”
A curl of desire wraps around me. I can imagine him being good at it. Being very good at it, in fact. And there, right there, is the desire to watch him do this thing he considers as intimate as prayer. I want to watch his eyes widen and his cheeks flush, his mouth open with need. I want to see him out of his mind with pleasure, even if it’s not because of me.
“But we’re getting off topic,” he goes on, “this is about you.You clearly like sex, too, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting it with me or with anyone else.”
It sounds so bloody easy when Asher says it. Asher, who is free to do whatever he wants without a lick of concern for what the world thinks of it. It’s part of why I’m so attracted to him; this freedom he has—borne from a place of restriction in his youth—the bright, independent nature he has, it’s enticing. I want to be close to it. Bathe in it. Live in his world. A world which is very, very different from mine. A world that knows me as a man grieving his dead wife almost six years after her death. A man whoisstill grieving his dead wife almost six years after her death. My heart still belongs to Stella. It always will. All these entanglements do is complicate things and hurt people. I had almost destroyed everything the last time I did this; Felix’s relationship with his father was broken irreparably, my career at Westminster sacrificed, and this time I stood to lose the respect of my son if he found out.
“I’m still in love with my wife, Asher. I always will be. I won’t ever love anyone the way I loved her.” I’m not sure what makes me say it, perhaps to see if it will be the thing that finally makes him give this up. Make him understand why this can’t ever be more than what it has been. Make him realise what it can never be.
He’s silent for a long moment. Then: “Is that it?”
“I… what?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I think that’s beautiful, really, I do. I can tell you still love her a lot: you still wear her ring. I noticed it straight away. It doesn’t bother me.”
This bloody boy. “Surely you understand, then? That I can’t ever give you what you want, Asher.”
“How do you know what I want?” he counters. “Have you ever asked? You’re assuming I want love and monogamy. Maybewhat I want is a hot older daddy who fucks me on the regular and doesn’t ask me to give up porn.”
“Is that what you want?”
There’s a moment’s hesitation before he says, sounding very sincere, “Honestly, I don’t know what I want. I’m twenty-four. I’ve only lived six years, like really lived. I want to be around you some more: I think you’re hot and smart and you turn me on so fucking bad. But long-term, I don’t know what I want. I don’t think much beyond the day in front of me, really. I tend not to get too deep in my own head about shit, you know. I’m sort of scared about what’s in there. I just let what happens, happen.”
I’m smiling, imagining the open look on his pretty face. “I’m just… not certain what I can offer you, sweetheart.”
“Can you fuck me on the regular?”
“Well, not for four to six weeks, according to the physician.”
He groans. “It’s going to be a long fucking month.”
I lower my voice and glance over at the door to ensure it’s closed. “Just as wellgetting fucked on the regularis your occupation.”
“Well, I’ll be wishing it was you every single time.”
I groan a little, my cock twitching with latent interest. “But after that, yes. I can. It would be my pleasure.”
“Then that’s good enough for me, sir.”
“I’ve been all over the world, in many different capacities. I’ve met thousands of people, each with their own unique outlook on the world. But I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Asher Fox,” I say, earnestly.
“Really? I guess I’m one of a kind.”
“Yes, you are.”
??
Gael and Leo come to pick me up from the hospital the followingafternoon. Leo looks well-rested and refreshed, and chatters away easily with Gael. It’s wonderful to see him, to have him here. The doctor releases me with a bag of medication I’m to take multiple times daily until further notice, before giving me the same spiel about no intense exercise, i.e., cardio and sex. I was lucky this time. Next time, I might not be.
I’ll return for a check-up in ten days. One of the nurses offers me a wheelchair to get to the car, which I decline, despite Leo’s hearty protests, and instead, let him carry my small suitcase to the car and set it in the boot. He opens the passenger door for me before getting in the back seat and pulling on his seat belt. We drive in silence out of the hospital underground car park and up into the May sunshine, a bright, glittering day that feels vivid and energetic. I lower the window and let the breeze rush into the car, inhaling deeply. I wonder what Asher is doing. Painting, filming, thrifting?
Mrs Kennedy is waiting as we pull into the large garage at the side of the residence, and then I’m practically carried into the house by all three of them.
“This isn’t sustainable,” I grumble as they fuss around me like hens. “I’m really quite alright.”