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K evin recovered before I did, which didn’t come as a surprise. He pushed himself up to hands and knees and I felt him hovering over me.

“What are you doing?” I murmured into the pillow.

He ran a gentle hand down my spine. “Looking at you.” He stroked me again.

I enjoyed the attention, right up until he pried my cheeks apart. I jackknifed against the mattress and tried to curl up into a little ball.

“You’re all pink,” he said, sounding darkly pleased about it. “I’ve made a right mess of you.”

“Oh my god, Kevin, don’t look there .”

“Why not? I want to.”

“Noooo.” I flailed some more, shoving at him, and got onto my back.

He made another of those pleased sounds, eyes locking on my groin.

I clapped a protective hand over my spent dick.

He stared at me. “Can’t I look at that either?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“I…”

I had no idea why not.

“You turn me on,” Kevin said. “I’d look at you all day long, given half a chance.” He was straddling me, and he very deliberately dragged his gaze up and down my body. “I want to blow you,” he said suddenly.

“ Now? ”

Kevin cocked his head at whatever expression crossed my face. “Not a fan? I love blow jobs. Then again, that’s not saying much. I love it all. Never given one before, though. I want to get my mouth on you. Oh, and I’ll be rimming you, too.”

I was already red in the face. At that confident and matter-of-fact statement, my cheeks began to throb. Fresh sweat popped out on my forehead.

He bit his lip, pleased with the reaction he got out of me.

“Where’s the condom?” I said suddenly. “You did wear one, right?”

“Pfft,” he said. “Of course I did.” He hitched a thumb over the side of the bed. “I dealt with it already.”

“Do you mean you tossed it?” I said indignantly.

“I tied it off first.”

I knew better than to leave anything lying around on the floor with Phil in the house. He had a bizarre aversion to coming upstairs and hadn’t done it once the entire time we’d lived together, but Phil was Phil, and I wouldn’t risk it. “Give it to me.” I held out a hand.

He raised a brow.

“I need the bathroom,” I told him primly, “and I may as well take it with me.”

“Okay.” He leaned over the side of the bed and I took a moment to appreciate the length of his strong back, the flex of his bicep, and that lovely round arse. He plucked a couple of tissues out of the box on my bedside table, used them to pick up and wrap the condom, and straightened. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

His helpfulness ended there, and he watched with interest and did not move as I did my best to work my way out from between his thick thighs, scoot up the bed, and scramble off the other side. The mattress squeaked as he flung himself flat on it and stretched out long, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under his head.

I rushed out and down the landing to the bathroom.

I’d had sex.

I stared at myself in the mirror. “You had sex,” I mouthed silently.

Bright splashes of colour stained my cheeks and ran down my neck to my chest. My hair looked like it had been rubbed with a balloon. My grey-green eyes were red-rimmed and bulging a bit. But…I looked happy.

I was happy.

I wasn’t going to waste time hanging out in the bathroom having a conversation with myself about it when I could be hanging out in my bedroom having a conversation with naked Kevin Wallis, but I did seize the opportunity to splash my face with cold water and whisk a damp cloth over the pertinent areas. I grabbed a clean cloth from the cabinet under the sink, wetted it, and took it out to Kevin.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to prevent him from seeing my bathroom, but there was nothing wrong with putting the inevitable outrage off as long as I could. Besides, I wanted to be back in bed with him. I wanted to have him drag me about and wrap his big arms around me.

I did my best to saunter into my room with a sexy swagger, but the effort was wasted. Kevin wasn’t facing the door, and he paid me no attention whatsoever.

He was standing by the wall opposite the end of the bed, with his hands on his hips and his head to one side. His phone was lying on the mattress.

“What are you doing?” I went over to him and held out the washcloth. “Here.”

He grunted his thanks and took the cloth off me without looking away from the wall. His eyebrows were pinched together in a small frown. He wiped himself down quickly and efficiently, and handed the cloth back.

“Kevin?” I prompted.

“Wall’s wrong,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Does it look right to you?” He went over and skimmed a hand over the dingy yellow paint, long fingers spread wide.

“Yes? How could it look wrong? It’s a wall.”

“The dimensions of the room are off.”

“Okay.” When he didn’t say anything else, I added, “Off how?”

“There’s a couple of feet missing. This wall is too far forwards. It’s deeper than it should be.”

“How did you even notice that?”

“I was just lying there, waiting for you to come back and sit on my dick again?—”

My stomach dropped at the casual way he said it.

“—and I started looking at the wall, and I dunno…it doesn’t feel right. You know?”

“No.”

He ran his hand up and down the wall. I didn’t know what he was looking for. I also didn’t know how long it had been since this room got a fresh coat of paint. I was willing to guess a good thirty or forty years, if not longer. He’d have to wash his hands before he put them anywhere interesting. I didn’t want chemicals from the seventies or eighties up my butt, thanks.

He pressed against the wall, made a thoughtful sound, slid a few inches to the left and tapped.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

“Sounds hollow,” he said.

“Really? Sounds like a wall to me.”

He slid his hand further, curled a knuckle, and knocked.

“Okay, that time it sounded hollow,” I said.

“Yeah.”

He continued to knock, inching along. After he’d gone two feet, it sounded normal again.

He stared at the wall in silence and then sidestepped and repeated the move.

“Another hollow section,” he said. “Wonder what all that’s about?” He sidestepped. “Another one.”

“Shelves maybe? Like…? Built-in alcoves?”

He stretched his arms out wide at shoulder height and stepped up against the wall.

My mouth dried out at the sight of him. Big, long arms spread wide. Spectacular muscled back and arse. Being weird about a wall.

I climbed onto the bed and plumped up the pillows, getting settled. If he wanted to prowl naked around my room and plaster himself up against things, I wasn’t going to stop him. I shuffled down a little, got comfortable, and crossed my arms behind my head.

“Hmm,” he was muttering to himself. “I think you’re right. Shelves or alcoves. If it was an exterior wall I’d say it was bricked-up windows. What do you—” he turned to where I’d been standing, then looked around and saw me on the bed.

Just like that, the wall was forgotten.

He strode over, climbed up from the bottom of the mattress and lay down on top of me, all without a word.

I laughed. “Hello.”

“Mhm.” He cupped my chin and kissed me, then flexed his hips into mine.

I grabbed his arse and held him still. “You might be able to go again, but I can’t. Sorry.”

“Not sure I can, actually. Can I play with you, though?”

I blinked.

He bit my lip gently and hunched against me again. “I like touching you, Charlie. I like the feel of you. Like making you squirm about.”

“I like it too,” I said, stroking the back of his neck. “Do you want to stay the night?”

He was nodding before I even finished my sentence.

He ‘played’ with me for about an hour, after I’d made him use the cloth to wipe any traces of paint off his fingers.

My dick made a valiant attempt to recover, as did his, but there were no more orgasms. Instead he ran his hands—and his lips—over my shaking body, making rough sounds of pleasure and approval. He licked and bit and kissed. By the time he was done, I didn’t think there was a single spot on me he hadn’t claimed.

With my lack of a social life and early morning starts, even though it was still embarrassingly early, I was past my bedtime and beginning to flag. Kevin rolled me out of bed and shuffled me down the landing.

“Uh,” I said as the bathroom approached. “Why don’t I use the bathroom up here and you can use the one downstairs?”

Kevin walked me right past the bathroom and started down the stairs. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Let’s both use the one downstairs. We can shower together.”

It was a great idea, and if I’d been any less tired, I’d have appreciated Kevin’s naked, wet body a heck of a lot more. Actually, that wasn’t true. I couldn’t possibly appreciate it more. He was a beautiful work of art. I just would have done something about it, rather than admired him unabashedly.

He enjoyed the admiration and kissed me silly for it, but while I could have been talked into a longer shower, we kept it quick and efficient.

“Charlie,” he said, standing under the shower head, water running down his face and chest. He took my face in his hands and lifted it to his. “I love your shower,” he said seriously. “I’m in love with it. I know this might seem sudden, but I want to marry it.”

I laughed. “I don’t blame you. It’s an amazing shower.”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching behind him and turning the water off. “It’s the best shower I’ve ever had. No competition. I am ruined for all other showers.”

While I straightened up the kitchen with a towel around my waist, Kevin hauled on another pair of sweatpants dug out from his gym bag and took Phil outside to do his thing. By the time the house was shut down and locked up, I was almost asleep on my feet.

It had been quite the day. I had no idea how Kevin was still standing. All I’d done was go to the gym, cook a meal, and have my world rocked, and I was contemplating the stairs, wondering if I’d be going up them on hands and knees.

“Does Phil sleep down here?” Kevin asked with interest as I gave Phil his goodnight biscuit, which he took to his enormous bed in the sitting room.

“Yeah,” I said. “He doesn’t go upstairs at all.” I snapped off the kitchen light and gestured Kevin ahead of me.

“Not at all? I’d have thought he’d be the kind of dog to sleep on your face.”

“Right? But nope. He point-blank refuses to go up. Suzanne told me that Deirdre loved him like a child, but she also had very strict boundaries and wouldn’t let him upstairs. She was worried about break-ins. He was supposed to guard her precious valuables. She was a bit of a collector, apparently. Had cabinets filled with porcelain figurines, commemorative plates, that sort of thing.”

Kevin grinned. “Aw. He’s not really a guard dog, though, is he?”

“No.” Phil liked to watch over things, not scare people away. Just ask his carefully tended toys. He kept them all tucked away in his toy basket, and got quite cross with me whenever I tried to get him to play with them.

“Shame. Poor Phil. He’s such a cuddler. Works out nicely for us, at least,” Kevin said. “Hang on.” His gym bag was at the bottom of the stairs and he stopped to rifle through it, bringing out a wash bag.

“How’s that?” I covered an enormous yawn.

Kevin pushed me gently up the stairs.

I flirted with the idea of asking him to carry me, but had juuuust enough self-respect not to. I didn’t protest when he got his arm around my waist, snugged himself up behind me, and walked me up. There wasn’t the intensity and excitement of when he did it earlier, but it was both as strange and as welcome.

Being cared for. Being taken to bed.

I could get used to it.

“Means we don’t have to shut him out of the bedroom every time I want to fuck you,” Kevin said practically.

It was a good point. Phil got dramatic enough when he wasn’t allowed to greet people on the doorstep or help sign for a delivery.

“Going to be fucking me a lot, are you?” I said.

“You bet your arse I am. Come on. Let’s brush our teeth then get into bed. I know you’ve got to be up early tomorrow, even though it’s Sunday and you’re supposed to have a lie in.”

Busy smiling at the confirmation that we would be doing this again, I forgot that we’d be brushing our teeth in the upstairs bathroom.

Kevin hadn’t got a good look at it earlier. He’d been busy trying to walk me backwards, find the bed, and keep his tongue in my mouth, all at the same time.

He got a good look now.

“Well,” he said after staring around in disapproving silence. “At least the downstairs one is nice.” He swallowed hard.

“That’s it?” I said. “You’re not going to start threatening me with interior decorating ideas and renovation plans?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I think I’m going to go ahead and do what needs to be done, and let you yell at me afterwards.” He headed for the sink and I tackled him, nudging him sideways before he dropped through into the kitchen.

“Mind the hole,” I said.

His nostrils flared as he looked down at where the beige linoleum sagged, making a giant dimple in the floor.

“It’s more of a depression really,” I said. “It’s a theoretical hole. I haven’t looked.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I waited, but that was all he said. Giving me a tight smile, he set his wash bag on the back of the toilet and pulled out his toothbrush. He loaded it up with toothpaste, jammed the brush in his mouth, and glared at me.

I glared back. “It’s my stupid bathroom,” I said, loading up my own toothbrush. “I’ll get to it when I have the time.”

Sighing through his nose, he reached out and turned the tap on.

Tried to turn the tap on.

He twisted it and stood there, staring, waiting for the water to come out. He flinched and looked over his shoulder when a pipe at the other end of the landing behind us banged.

I pushed his hand away, spat out my mouthful of foam and said, “There’s a trick to it.” I twisted the tap on and off twice, there was another bang and a whooshing sound, then the water shot out. “Meet you in bed? Cool.” I rinsed my brush, stuck it in its holder, and ran for the bedroom.

I was lying on my back with the duvet up to my chin when Kevin walked in.

“Listen,” I told him. “This place was sold as a fixer-upper. I knew what I was getting into. Circumstances changed on me, that’s all. Yes, there are some quirks, but I can live with them until I get my shit together and can find the time and emotional capacity to start fixing it up. And frankly,” I finished, “I’m not sure I care for your judgement.”

The whole time I was talking, Kevin was busy stripping. Since he was only wearing his sweatpants, that looked like him hooking his thumbs in the waistband and shoving them down. He kicked them off, picked them up and folded them neatly, set them on top of my chest of drawers, then flipped the duvet back and climbed into bed.

“I’m not judging,” he said, scooping me up against his hot, naked body. “I am assessing.”

“There’s a difference?” I grabbed his arse. Why not? It was right there.

“Yes.” He tugged at my boxers and t-shirt. “Why are you dressed?”

“These are my pjs.”

“Take them off.” His eyes were heavy.

“Fine, but no more orgasms. I’m knackered.”

He nodded and propped himself up on an arm, watching as I scrambled out of my t-shirt and boxers. I put them on top of the bedside table, and snapped off the lamp. As soon as I did, Kevin threw an arm around me and dragged me against his body again.

Yeah, this was better. I hummed and rubbed against him subtly. He slid a leg between mine and kissed my nose.

“I’m not judging your house, Charlie,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if it feels like it. I want you to be happy. I don’t think you are.”

I looked into his eyes, admiring the familiar, gentle brown that did a terrifyingly good job of hiding the passionate, energetic, determined man he really was. “I’m happy right now.”

His full lips curled up in a sweet smile. “I’m going to keep making that happen for you,” he said, his voice slowing with sleep.

He zonked out in front of me, still smiling, still with a leg between my thighs and an arm around my waist.

I knew that it was creepy to watch someone sleep, but what was I supposed to do here, avert my gaze? It was the first time I’d ever had someone in my bed and I didn’t want to miss a thing. I watched his chest rise and fall. I listened to his breaths. I soaked in his heat.

Yeah.

I was happy right now. And I’d be happy for as long as Kevin stuck around.

However long that might be.