Page 133 of Oleander

Caspien looked satisfied. “You’re fucking him because you think it will hurt me, even though you know that isn’t possible.”

“Of course, I know it isn’t possible; you’re a fucking shell of a human who cares about no one but yourself.”

He wasn’t even mildly offended by the accusation. He looked almost satisfied, blissed out, even. His eyelids fluttered a little as he brushed a hand through his hair and took a step back from me. I heard his phone vibrate, and he glanced down at it.

“My car is here,” he announced.

“Wonderful,” I snapped, moving to pull on some clothes. I’d been standing arguing with him naked. Not that I cared. I’d barely even noticed.

He opened his mouth to say something, that cruel red mouth that haunted my fucking dreams, but then closed it again. I could barely believe this was how it was ending: no, it had already ended. Whatever last night was, it wasn’t the start of anything; I knew that.

I tried not to think about how long it might be before I saw him again.

He picked up his gloves and scarf and moved to the door, where he stopped and turned back.

“He won’t believe you,” Caspien said. I gave him a confused look and he went on. “If you get any silly ideas, and think telling Xavier about this will achieve something, he won’t believe you.”

I hadn’t thought about it. The idea of telling a soul about what had happened last night was the furthest thing from my mind. It was mine, ours. I wanted to wrap it up and keep it hidden from prying eyes. So that when I was alone, I could unwrap it carefully, examine it for things that didn’t exist: soft eyes, gentle pleas, tender touches. Giving any part of it to Blackwell made me want to murder something. I’d destroy it first.

“I’ve spent a lot of time convincing him of my mortification over your little childhood crush,” Caspien was saying, “that telling him about this would sound so farcical he would laugh in your face. So, truly, I would not advise it.”

I felt breathless and embarrassed.

“Childhood crush,” I managed through the knot in my throat.

“Hmm.” He nodded, looking at his phone again. “I’d like you to consider my request regarding Finlay. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask you not to fuck my family members, it’s a matter of manners, surely?” he said reasonably.

I went toward him fully planning to manhandle him out of my room by force if he didn’t go voluntarily. I wouldn’t hit him, ever. But he made me the kind of violent I wasn’t sure I could control. Last night had proven that.

He looked a little nervous as I approached him, but I saw his eyes dip to my mouth, too. He licked his tongue over his lips and let out a soft breath as he let me crowd him into the door. It had the same effect it always had on me, his submission. Fireworks went off down my spine and my cock stiffened, pulsing and hungry for him.

I pressed it into him. Imagined forcing him around, tearing down his trousers and thrusting inside him raw. I felt a little ofwhatever haze had overtaken me last night settle on me again as I lowered my mouth to his ear.

“Don’t come here again,” I warned. I felt his entire body tremble, and my soul glowed from it. “In fact, the next time you’re stupid enough to come into any room I’m in, then I’m going to assume that you want me to fuck you again, how about that?”

He let out a small, desperate whimper.

“You can stand there spouting whatever poisonous lies you want, Cas, but your body never lies to me.” It was a gamble; I knew that. But when I slid my hand between his legs and felt how hard he was, it felt as though the score line had nudged ever so slightly in my favour. “You want this.”

I was careful not to say ‘me’ because then he could reply saying it was a mere physical, chemical reaction. Something out of his control.

But he was turned on; that much couldn’t be disputed. I stroked my thumb over his length, then cupped his balls. He shuddered.

It took every ounce of willpower I had in me to step back from him then and let my hand drop away from his dick. He sank forward as though all that had been holding him up had been me. His face was flushed and beautiful. He lifted his head and stared at me in something like awe, before he stuck out his chin.

“Goodbye Jude,” he said in an unstable voice, that to me sounded like bloody birdsong. Then, with a final lingering glance, he pulled open the door and walked out of my life again.

Nine

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

Dear Cas,

You left me again today.

It wasn’t as bad as the first time. Or maybe I’m just getting better at losing you. Or maybe it’s because this time felt different. The way you looked at me as you left this time said: this isn’t done. I think it did, anyway. I’ve always thought we were tied together somehow. I’ve thought that a lot since you left. That my place on this earth, the whole purpose of my existence, was to be next to you. Like destiny or kismet or the red string of fate they talk about in Chinese mythology. Something will always bring us back to each other. I believe that, Cas, I really do. I don’t know what brought you back to me last night, but it’s given me some hope that you’ll come back to me again.