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“ I want him back,” she said sternly. Juliet. Right in my ear as I shook my head in bewilderment, having just answered her call. Out on the balcony, because yeah. Bastien was inside and I didn’t want him to hear whatever Juliet was ranting about today. The evening chill blew straight though my scrubs as I leaned on the railings.

“Bastien? You want him back?”

“No, no,” she continued, clearly frustrated. “One of my risk assessors flipped on me today, not coming back, got headhunted elsewhere, and fucking hell, Jake. I need him back. Like yesterday, because he doesn’t pull shit like this on me, and anyway, Bash keeps people in line. Him being burnt out has completely rattled everyone, and we can’t have that. Next thing people will be going off on sick leave, claiming they’ve worked too hard, and I will be fucked, Jake. FUCKED!”

“Jules, calm down. People can hear you all the way down on the heath.”

“Don’t care. I’m the only one left at the office, and you’re the only one who gets it, how bloody frustrating this all is! Everything was fine. Everything! Now I have to deal with all this! No, I’ve had enough. I need Bash here on Monday. Can you make that happen?”

“He’s been off for what—three weeks? ”

“He doesn’t have to actually work. I just need him here, walking around, giving everyone evil eyes. Whipping some sense into this lot. No idea what’s got into everyone, but things are shit.”

“Have you asked him?” I was getting confused, and frozen to the bone, but still out of earshot from Bastien, I was not ready to take this conversation inside.

“I tried ringing him, but he won’t take my calls.”

“That’s probably a good thing.”

“It’s shit. You know, I hate both of you. Really, I do.”

“Of course you do, Jules. Maybe you need some time off?” I suggested. “That is allowed, you know. A holiday. Go sun yourself somewhere.”

“Like with who? I mean? My friends think I’ve gone mad, and nobody returns my calls because who the hell wants to hear the sob story of delusional Juliet who thought Bash would marry her?”

Okay. Breathe, Jake.

“Bastien needs to rest. He’s doing well, but he’s still not sleeping, and things stress him out, and we’re just getting on top of his blood sugars, and the new pump is doing the trick, I think. Give him another week, yeah?”

“I don’t have another week,” she growled.

“You do. And you know what?”

“I still hate you. Why do I hate you, Jake? Yes, I hate you because you stole him, and I should be as far away from you as I can possibly get. Or maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should just claw your eyes out. But you know what? I can’t because I haven’t had time to get my nails done in weeks because I’m trying to snag this Blumenberg contract and it’s killing me. So instead of working, I’m sitting here talking to you, because I have no one else who understands all this absolute crap I’m going through.”

Okay. Breathe, Juliet.

“I do understand. And, Jules, lovely. Listen. I get it. Calm down. I’m right here, trust me. I’ve got you. It’s all going to work out. I don’t mind you taking it out on me if it helps.”

“It helps,” she shot in. I could hear her breathing hard, then swallowing something down .

“I’m honoured that I get to be your very own personal rage room. Just shout at me. Hurl abuse. I can take it.”

“Bastard,” she huffed. Then she laughed. “How do I sleep better at night? I have no clue. I go to bed, and everything just gets to me.”

“Decaf, Juliet. No wine after six o’clock, no screentime before bed, and open the window. Cool air.”

“You’re no fun, and I’m not eighty, Jake.”

“Neither am I, but trust me. You need to step back, just a little. Take control.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You don’t need Bastien to take control.”

“People listen to him. They’re scared of him. Even Kieron thinks he’s terrifying. Also, I need wine in the evenings. I don’t get home until nine. What am I supposed to do? Gulp wine from the bottle on the Tube so I don’t drink after your curfew?”

“Terrifying.” I had to smile. “All of it. No wine on the Tube, it’s not a good look for you.”

She laughed again, snorting and then clearly taking a sip of wine.

“You drinking in the office after hours, Juliet? ”

“Too bloody right! Look what I’ve become. A neurotic mess who drinks at work, albeit after hours, and needs my ex to come in and keep my staff in line. What happened to Juliet Delaware? I used to be stronger. I used to be able to run this place in my sleep. Now, though?”

“You’re doing well, Juliet. You’re strong. And I’m really happy that you’re talking to me, because God knows, I need this too. I need you to be my friend, and I need you to rant at me, and I one hundred percent need you to go home now.”

Her laughter was bitter, but at the same time, she did as she was told, as I could hear her stand up and grab her bag, followed by the sound of the lift arriving. She sighed heavily. I hoped she was all right to drive because the alternative was terrifying, which I scolded her about, but she assured me she’d only had one glass. She wasn’t a complete fool.

And there was nothing terrifying about Bastien, I reminded her. Or maybe there was. I got the absolute presence he had. How people looked at him and took a step back. In that suit with that scowl on his face? Yes. He could be terrifying, like now, when he was naked on the sofa, carefully removing his pump and his tubing and then sitting back and giving me a wink.

That was terrifying. Thrilling. It’s what I lived for.

“Listen,” I said sternly. “Juliet, you’ve got this. And whoever walked out today doesn’t deserve to work for you. You’re brilliant. You know this, and do you know why?”

“No,” she sulked.

“Because I hurt you, and Bastien hurt you and you’re still here talking to me, and that? That is bravery and kindness on a whole different level.”

“It’s just humanity. Because you’re you and I’m me, and I need someone in this world to keep me sane.”

“Which is exactly what I’m doing now. Juliet, hang up, right now. Go home, watch TV, and pour yourself another glass of wine. Then sit down and put your feet up and drink it, reminding yourself that you’ve now been a single free woman for months, and that you’ve survived. And that there are so many good things to come for you. Celebrate that.”

“It doesn’t feel like a celebration. And the good things? That’s not always easy to believe.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. ”

“Will you talk to him?”

“Of course I will. But for now, darling, chill. And, yeah, text me later. I want to see the glass of wine, and then I want to see it empty.”

“You’re driving me to drink.”

“Absolutely, but I am a medical professional. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re a bone knuckler.”

“Tendons. Ligaments, Jules. Muscle. Broken hearts are my speciality. One big troublesome muscle right there.”

“Don’t care.”

She was smiling. I could always hear it in her voice.

“Good girl,” I said softly. “You’ve got this.”

“Thank you.” She hung up, and I finally let myself back into the warmth.

“She okay?” he asked, casually sitting there, stark naked and stroking his cock. Long, slow, firm movements. Up and down.

“She’s fine. Told her to give herself a break.”

“Good.” Still stroking.

“Bastien?” I crossed my arms .

“I have half an hour-ish, before I need to reattach the pump. I thought we could utilise that time. You know. Do something.”

“Did you now?”

“I did. I thought, perhaps…I mean, you’ll need a shower after anyway…”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well.” He sat up straighter.

I loved this new and improved Bastien. The one who was finding his feet with, well, everything. His confidence about who he was. His workload. Trying so damn hard to get better at looking after himself. He looked after me too. And I looked after him.

“I’ve loved everything we’ve done so far. I love that you spring things on me. The harness? I keep looking at it and thinking what we can do with that, but the thing I need to say…”

“Yes?”

“I need to be able to function the next day. I need to be able to sit down and, like, walk. But that doesn’t mean, you know? I still want to feel it. Even the next day. Don’t go all soft on me, Jakey, because that’s not what I need.”

I just stared at him, this man. This beautiful, gorgeous man. And then he reached behind his back, and there were…

My gloves.

“I think you should… You know.”

“Words, Bastien.”

He bit his bottom lip, that stunning blush creeping over his cheeks. His cock? Rock hard. I held out my hand, walked right up to him and took the gloves from him. Put them on, one finger at a time. Slower than I needed to, but hey. This was me, and he was being slowly tortured. The anticipation. The way he was stroking himself. Naughty.

“Hands behind your back. Don’t make me have to tie you up.”

He did as he was told. Shuffled closer. His arse was on the edge of the sofa as I combed my gloved fingers through his hair.

“Get my pants down.”

“With my teeth or what?”

Oh, yeah. He was smiling. I did too. Fucking hell.

“With your teeth. ”

This was fun. He did it as well. Licked up my belly button as I tugged my top over my head, then scraped his teeth down my stomach. Small kisses. Oh, yes. And I didn’t mind. Nope, not at all, my dick happily filling out as he tugged at the fabric, pushing down my scrubs and my boxers, digging in there as I fisted the hair at the back of his head.

“Good boy.” I made him look up at me, arch his neck back.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out,” I demanded.

A flicker of fear in his eyes. I liked it. Oh, yes.

“Colour?” I asked.

“Green.” He winked. The little shit.

My hand had to fish out my dick, poking it just over the elastic waistband that was now hanging low on my hips. Still, good enough. Holding my dick in one hand, I cupped his head with the other, moving down his neck, then up, grabbing his chin. He held my gaze the entire time. Just looked at me the way I looked at him.

Mine. All mine. Because he was. Always. And there was nothing more important in my life than making him happy. To love him and nurture him and bring all this out for him.

His mouth was open, his tongue out, just the way I’d asked. I placed the head of my dick gently on his tongue, let him feel the weight of it, a drop of saliva forming in the corner of his mouth. Oh, yes.

“Suck,” I demanded, and he did, slowly closing his lips around my skin. Loose, soft, just the way I liked it. And then, movement. Slow, gentle licks from his tongue, his full mouth. I kept hold of his head, one glove back in his hair, tracing his lips with a finger. I push in at the corner, fighting for space in that dirty mouth of his, alongside my dick.

I pulled out, pushed my finger back in all the way to the back, making him gag.

“You can take this, Bastien. Just do it. Colour?”

“Green.” He wiped his mouth with his hand, then put it behind his back. Perhaps I should punish him for that, but then? I smiled. Such a good boy, back in position, his mouth open, asking for more.

He got it. Of course he did. A deep, firm slide back in, enough for him to make a little sound, before I slid out. And back in. Smooth. Wet. Warmth .

“Good boy,” I whispered, pulling out and letting the slit of my dick paint his bottom lip, then the top, teasing him gently before roughly feeding him the whole length again.

He could take it, even if he spluttered a little when I pulled out and once again replaced my dick with my gloved finger and made him suck on the leather. Greedily, he let me push further, all the way to the back of his throat, as he made that desperate sound and looked up at me with watery eyes. I held on. He let me. Because he was mine, and I was his. Because I would never hurt him, and he would never hurt me either.

“I love you,” I said out loud.

He said nothing back, because how could he? My fingers were still in his mouth. I slid them out, wiped all that wetness from his face.

I didn’t have to speak, because he knew what he wanted, turning around, letting my hands guide his hips as I positioned him over the back of the sofa. Moved his legs further apart with my knees and once again gathered his hands behind his back. Held them firmly in place as I stroked my dick .

“There’s lube on the table,” he huffed out.

“Do you deserve lube?”

“Need to be able to sit down.”

Oh, yes. Good point.

I leant back, kneaded those lovely globes in my hand, then gave him a firm swat.

The howl out of his mouth was stunning. The way he shook against the back of the sofa.

“Fucking hell, give a guy a warning?” he shouted, but he was laughing, turning his head and watching me over his shoulder. “Now do the other one.”

“Who’s in charge here?” I warned him with a smile.

“Green, Jakey. Bloody green. Now do as you’re told!”

“Brat,” I spat out at the same time as I gave him what he wanted, making his head hang low over the sofa as he growled.

“Oh, shit. Now fuck me.”

“You ready for that?” I gave him another swat and then lined up my dick, lube at hand. I got him. There would be other times to play rough. Tonight? He needed just this. A little fun. A dollop of lube slowly dripping down between his arse cheeks .

“Not too much.” he said quietly. “Want to feel you.”

“You’ll feel me,” I promised, grabbing his hips firmly as I made that first push, hard against his ring of muscle. His breath hitched as his head once again hung down over the back of the sofa, his arms now holding him up, having lost my grip on his wrists. I didn’t need to hold him down; he was pinned to the sofa, and I was right here, all that warmth greeting me as I pushed through. A slow descent into everything this was. Him. Me. Sex.

I never made love. That was my motto. I fucked. But I wondered what I was doing now—if I was still merely fucking, or if I needed to rethink this entire set-up. Because as I pushed further, he bent his neck back, and somehow, I found his lips and we were suddenly just there. Fused by mouth. Him and me. And I was trying to gently move, but I couldn’t because I was so incredibly overwhelmed by everything this was. I just wrapped my arms around him and held on, gently rocking my hips as he gasped and grabbed my arms, and I tried to hold us both up.

“Just do it,” he whispered. “Hard and fast. ”

I had no idea what those words meant, because all I could do was feel, smell, taste his skin on my tongue, gentle movements the only thing I could master.

“You’re mine,” I croaked out.

“Of course I am,” he replied. Then he pushed his arse back against my groin, met me where we were. Me all the way inside of him. Him breathing against my cheek. And things finally made sense. Because we were just what we were, and this?

“Don’t think so hard.” He kissed my arm. “It’s all right.”

Of course it was. So I found my strength, brought it back from wherever it had gone, and then I pulled out and slammed right back in. And again. Sped up and gave him everything. Everything I was, was for him. All of it. Every little breath. The sweat that ran down my forehead. The seed that suddenly was inside him. And again. And again.

“Just…one…more.” His mouth was open, his eyes closed, his hand moving down the back of the sofa.

I caught it. Kissed his fingers. Then bent my arm around his front and grabbed his cock. Pumped it inside my grip. Leather. Lube. Me. Him. Hard. Fast as he roared. Gasped. Held his breath for what seemed like ages before he released, his cum sliding over the leather, making my movements suddenly slick. A string hanging off one finger as I shakily retrieved my hand and showed it to him.

He looked back over his shoulder as I held it out for him, the tip of his tongue just catching that naughty drip. He held it there for me to see before he brought it inside his mouth, more dramatically than was necessary. I kissed him roughly enough that my tongue fought to taste him. To share what was already ours.

“You’re so bloody dirty, Jakey.” He laughed as he crawled into my arms, the two of us in a heap on that sofa, my scrubs still bunched around my feet, him beautifully bare.

“Promise me something,” I whispered into his cheek.

“What?” he asked.

“That we’ll always have this. This…closeness. That I can always do these kinds of things with you, and you’ll still love me.”

“Of course I will. I love when we…you know. Do these things. ”

“Fuck, Bastien. It’s when we fuck .”

“Idiot,” he muttered. Then he kissed me.

“So you do love me.” I was teasing, but I wanted so badly to hear him say it and mean it.

Then he just looked at me. A small smile on his face.

“Jakey,” he said.

Good enough.

I held him, nuzzled into his neck, and we just lay there. Him and me.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I had no idea how much hearing those words would affect me, but I could feel them, deep in my bones.

“I love you too,” I whispered as my eyes filled with tears. Relief. Emotion. All the past months of agony suddenly releasing through my body.

I realised that I could finally breathe freely.

“Of course you do,” he whispered back.

Love. It wasn’t so difficult after all, because it was right here. Him and me.