Page 74 of Merry & Bright

Chapter Eleven

When Cam opened hiseyes, it took a moment for him to realise where he was.

A number of impressions occurred to him at once: that it was dark and he was in bed. That the red digits of an alarm clock swam in the darkness telling him it was 23:41. That the warm hand resting on his hip belonged to the man lying behind him.

Rob.

He was in Rob Armstrong’s bedroom, and soon it would be midnight on Hogmanay. The start of a new year.

Cam waited for his worries to creep over him, as they usually did when he woke up, but it didn’t happen.

Regret then, for sleeping with Rob? For saying out loud, probably for the first time in his whole life, exactly what he wanted?

“I want you to put me on my knees...I want to—let go.”

He considered that carefully, slowly blinking himself awake. No, there was no regret in him either. Not even when he remembered just how much control he’d given up to Rob, how much of himself he’d revealed.

So, no regrets, and for once, no stress on waking. Nothing but the soft darkness and Rob’s warm body behind him. And an unfamiliar feeling of contentment.

Cam shifted, his buttocks brushing against Rob’s groin as he did so. The movement made Rob stir behind him, his hand flexing on Cam’s hip then stroking up over his ribcage.

His breath whispered over the nape of Cam’s neck as he murmured, “What time is it?”

Cam liked the sound of his voice, all husky with sleep.

“Quarter to midnight,” he murmured back.

“Almost time for the Bells. Do you want to...?” Rob trailed off, his tone a little uncertain and Cam looked over his shoulder to read his expression, but all he could see was the outline of Rob’s head.

“What?”

“Get up? See the New Year in?”

“Okay,” Cam said carefully, wondering why Rob sounded so tentative suddenly. “Let’s do that.”

Rob didn’t say anything more, just moved away, clicking the bedside lamp on so that low light filled the room, and rolled out of bed. Cam watched, blinking, as Rob quickly pulled on boxers, then a T-shirt, his back to Cam. No eye contact.

Like he couldn’t wait to put some distance between them.

PerhapsRobregretted what they’d done?

Ignoring the pang of disappointment that thought provoked, Cam forced himself out of bed and began to search the floor for his own abandoned clothes. He found his jeans and briefs first and pulled those on. His T-shirt was nowhere to be seen though and when he glanced at Rob to ask about it, the wary expression on Rob’s face made him feel a little sick. He looked away again without saying anything, fixing his gaze blankly on the floor. Now, finally, the distant echo of incipient regret was beginning to make itself felt.

He’d let Rob see his innermost self tonight. That wasn’t something he did readily—he certainly wouldn’t have done it with some random pick-up from Gomorrah—but with Rob it had felt right to lay himself bare, to let Rob see him in all his naked need. Except that now he was beginning to feel stupid for trusting his instincts, for letting the depths of that need show, and for giving voice to it.

“Please. Oh, please...”

The very recent memory of saying those words aloud made a wave of nausea roll over him.

“Cam?”

Cam’s gaze snapped up. Rob was watching him with a concerned expression.

“Are you all right?” Rob asked.