Barging In Page 7

  Several voices called out to him from the circle of firelight.

  “Dan, sweetie, it’s lovely to see you! Come and meet Aranya—you just have to get some shots of his boat—it’s unbelievable!” As Mel tugged on Dan’s hand and pulled him towards the lanky, dreadlocked guy with the guarded expression, Dan searched the groups of chattering boaters for the one face he really wanted to see. He came up with a disappointing blank.

  “What is it you’re taking your pictures for?” Aranya asked, his narrow eyes fixing Dan with a glare that made him want to squirm. Fortunately Mel pressed a bottle of beer into his hand at that moment, so he had a little longer to frame his reply.

  “It’s a piece for the Observer magazine,” he said, hoping the left-wing liberal credentials would help him win the guy over. “I’m meant to be covering a narrowboat holiday for the travel section, but my agent asked me to get character shots as well. The idea is to have an article about British Waterways versus the boaters. Show the human side of the situation. People in their own homes. That sort of thing.” He gave Aranya his least flirtatious grin, but the man’s face showed little responding emotion. Shame, really—with those long blond dreadlocks and Nordic features, he could be quite a looker if he lightened up.

  “It might be alternative now, but when the oil runs dry, we’ll all be living like this. Current Western lifestyles are totally unsustainable—we are living in Babylon, man, and the end times are coming. Did you know it would take three earths to supply everyone with the resources to maintain the status quo?”

  Oh Christ, just what he needed. A white Rastafarian tree-hugger with an evangelical bent. Dan let the eco-brainwashing attempts wash over him as he tried to make the right noises in response. Asking Aranya about energy-saving measures on his own boat proved to be a good move, earning Dan more opportunities to scan the group for Robin. He idly watched one of Chris and Zoe’s brood running around with a stick, poking it into the fire and chasing his younger sister while brandishing the smouldering wood. A couple of identical blonde girls with wild hair joined in the game. No one seemed to care that they were quite literally playing with fire, but no one seemed to get hurt, either. The adults were all relaxed and happy. A few of them had brought djembes down and were sitting in a circle, beating out a rolling, primitive rhythm on the large drums. No one was out on the pull as far as he could tell; well, no one other than himself. This was just friends, chilling together. No agendas. No ulterior motives. He could get used to this.

  “And another thing you can put in your article is the criminal lack of recycling facilities along the canal.” God, Aranya was still going on. “I have to cycle for miles to get to a bottle bank sometimes. And we need composting toilets. Those pump-out stations feed the shit straight into the main sewers. We can do better than that. Some of us already do.”

  Dan wrinkled his nose. He’d smelt some pretty honking toilets that day. Mel had lectured him that it wasn’t considered polite to use another boater’s toilet unless you really had to. Pissing in the woods didn’t bother him too much, but how could you deal with the shit?

  Aranya must have read his mind. “I go out every morning with a shovel. It’s the only way, man. Put back into the ecosystem everything you take out of it. I don’t even use paper. I wipe with my hand and then wash it.”

  Okay, that was way too much information. He really didn’t want to be picturing Aranya squatting in the woods like some kind of animal.

  When Aranya offered him a joint, he gave it a suspicious once-over. The guy’s hands looked clean, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to put anything into his mouth that had been handled by a man who wiped his arse with his bare hand. Then again, he wouldn’t think twice about rimming a hot bloke, and surely that was no better. Mind you, most of the guys he picked up were pretty scrupulous about hygiene. But what the hell, he wasn’t going to catch anything nasty, was he? Not from the world’s most responsible hippie.

  He took the joint, pulled in a hot lungful and choked. As he doubled over, desperately trying to calm his overactive diaphragm, Dan remembered exactly why it was he’d given up smoking.

  But when he straightened up, eyes streaming and face burning, there Robin was on the other side of the fire, gazing at him with an inscrutable expression. His face may have been set like a mask, but there was no mistaking the blaze in those dark eyes.

  Robin turned away and Dan fought to regain control of his breathing. He needed to keep steady, keep focused, keep his wits about him. This was going to be his lucky night.

  Robin’s hopeful mood had evaporated by the time he arrived at the party. He couldn’t see Dan anywhere, his eyes scanning the fire-lit figures for a shock of spiky, fair hair. And then he heard coughing, saw the doubled-over figure, and ached to rush over there and pat Dan’s back for him.

  Their eyes met, and there was no denying the need that boiled inside him—he hadn’t felt this alive in so long. He was desperate to stride over there and grab hold of Dan, then drag him back to Serendipity. And then… And that was the point where his mind stubbornly refused to let him go any further, so he stayed where he was. He dropped his gaze, scuffing the toe of his boot against the ground, his every nerve painfully aware of just where Dan was in the group and how much distance there was between them.

  Smiler had approached Dan, and he wasn’t looking happy.

  “What’s all this I hear about you snooping around asking questions about BW? You a fucking spy or something?”

  Shit, that wasn’t fair. Before he realised he was moving, Robin had closed the distance, ready to step in between the two men.

  Dan looked bewildered in the face of Smiler’s ferocity. “I’m a travel writer. Freelance. I’m just looking for an angle for a piece I’m writing.”

  “Yeah, right. Heard it all before, mate. You’re one of them.”

  “He’s not.” Robin’s face grew hot as they both turned towards him. “He’s telling the truth. Honest to God, Smiler. No BW grunt would be so useless steering a boat.”

  Smiler grumbled under his breath and turned back to Dan. “Good thing for you you’re friends with Robin, here. I’ll take his word, but you put one foot out of line and you’ll be sorry.” His eyes scanned the gathering. “Where’ve them two wildcats got to now? God, their mum’s gonna kill me if they fall in the river.”

  As Smiler moved away, Dan turned to Robin with a smirk. “Not sure I like my defence being based on how incompetent I am. I think I deserve a chance to show you where my real talents lie.”

  Robin gulped hard. He didn’t want to flirt in front of all these people. But oh God, he wanted…

  “Dan, over ’ere mate.” Chris grabbed hold of Dan’s arm and dragged him off. “Rusty’s up for you taking some pictures of his boat. You don’t want to pass up on this one. It’s a beaut.”

  Dan threw an apologetic glance over his shoulder, mouthing later.

  Robin stood by the fire, watching the group around Rusty to see when Dan would be free. Every now and then Dan would cast a heated gaze in his direction that kept him rooted to the spot.

  “Hey, sweetie, I hear that cat of yours is back at last. Told you he would be.”

  Robin looked down at Mel’s smiling face, and allowed himself to be momentarily distracted. “Yeah, he’s fine. He had a little cut, but it doesn’t seem to have caused any permanent damage. Dan found him up a tree.” Robin’s cheeks grew hot as he mentioned Dan’s name to Mel, his gaze skittering around between her, Dan and the ground. When he looked at Mel again, she was studying Dan, who Robin realised was looking at him. He met Mel’s eyes and flushed at the understanding he saw there.

  Mel raised her eyebrows. “Well, Dan is quite the man of the moment, isn’t he? Seems like everyone’s a bit taken with him.” Robin said nothing, developing a sudden fascination with the toes of his boots. “Oh, looks like he needs to answer a call of nature. Maybe you’d better give him a hand, make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

  Robin followed Mel’s gaze to see Dan
heading off towards the trees bordering the field. He was walking in the direction of the stile Robin had entered the field by.

  “I, uh…” He looked down at Mel, not knowing how to phrase his excuses.

  “Just go, Robin. I don’t expect to see you back here tonight, okay?”

  Robin nodded. He didn’t know how she’d managed to work everything out so quickly but was grateful that she understood. He bent down to kiss her cheek, then turned and took off after Dan as fast as he could manage without actually running.

  It was dark under the trees. As Robin waited for his vision to adjust, he concentrated on listening. There was a faint splashing sound off to his right, and he waited until Dan was finished before clearing his throat.

  “Dan?”

  A dark shape detached itself from the shadows and moved towards him. The next thing he knew, arms were snaking around his waist and he felt warm breath on his cheek.

  “Robin? I hope that’s you.” Dan’s voice was low and seductive, but he held himself back as if expecting Robin to make the first move.

  “It’s me,” Robin whispered, not trusting his voice to stay steady. All he could concentrate on was the press of Dan’s warm body against his, the scent rising from him, sweet and heady. His hands rose of their own accord, pulling Dan’s head closer as he closed in for a kiss.

  Dan tasted of lager and marijuana, with that underlying sweetness Robin remembered from before. He moaned into Dan’s mouth, growing hard so fast it was painful. He grabbed hold of Dan’s arse and pulled him in tight, willing him to feel how much he wanted him. Dan responded by grinding his hips, and their erections rubbed together with an intense friction. Made Robin want to rip Dan’s clothes off and have him on the damp leaf litter.

  But Dan had his own ideas, and Robin found himself stumbling backwards as Dan broke off the kiss and pushed him, his fall broken by a tree trunk. He panted, slightly winded by the unexpected blow. That was uncalled for! But then Dan slid a cool hand down the front of his trousers, and all other thoughts fled.

  “Oh! This is a pleasant surprise,” Dan said, fingering Robin’s Prince Albert piercing in a way that made him whimper and push into Dan’s hand. “I think I’d better get a closer look.”

  And when Dan sank down, unzipped Robin’s fly and exposed his aching prick to the cold night air, Robin needed the support of the tree behind him. Dan’s hot breath against the head of his cock made his knees buckle as he trembled with anticipation.

  But Dan seemed determined to tease him, nuzzling, licking and touching him so gently it was an exquisite torture. Dan paid special attention to the piercing, and the way the ring moved under his tongue sent jolts of pleasure racing through Robin’s body. He gasped, his hands clawing at the bark. He had to stop himself from grabbing Dan’s hair and thrusting into his mouth. He wasn’t going to be that needy. He wasn’t that desperate. He wasn’t.

  When Dan finally enveloped him in the moist heat of his mouth, Robin had to bite down on his hand to prevent a howl escaping. The relief that the torture was over barely registered—now he had to concentrate on not coming too fast. To hold back, to make it last. No matter how good. And oh, it was good. Dan knew what he was doing, taking him deep and making happy noises like Robin’s dick was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

  Fighting to keep a grip, Robin stared wildly around. His eyes fixed on the distant fire. There were figures silhouetted against it. Figures getting closer.

  “Fuck! Dan, stop, please!” Robin grabbed hold of Dan’s hair on the upstroke, preventing him from sucking his cock down again.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it, because I won’t believe you.” Dan sounded smug and gave a lick to the head of Robin’s cock that made him gasp.

  “Stop it, someone’s coming.” By now he could hear voices. “Shit, it’s Smiler and his girls.” That got Dan’s attention, and he rose to his feet, muttering curses.

  “Bet my jeans are ruined. Bloody countryside.”

  Robin ignored him, zipping his fly over his rapidly wilting erection and starting off towards the stile. He wanted to get over it before they were seen. But more than that, he wanted Dan with him. Realising he was alone, Robin halted, looking around the dark woods. Shit. He’d lost him.

  “Dan?” Robin called softly.

  But this time no dark figure approached through the trees. This time he was on his own.

  Chapter Nine

  Of all the bloody times to be interrupted! He’d nearly had him. Dan could still taste Robin’s arousal, salty on his tongue. He’d been eagerly anticipating that moment of release, of feeling Robin’s cock pulsing in his mouth; of hearing the sounds Robin made while coming; of holding Robin’s jerking hips steady as he drank down his prize.

  And now Robin was running scared again.

  “Robin?”

  Oh, that was just perfect! Left here on his own with a raging hard-on and not a sexy boater in sight. Dan reached down to adjust his jeans. They chafed against his erection—he’d have to finish off by himself if he didn’t find Robin soon. Didn’t think he could bear the idea of having to resort to that, though. Robin would have to be around here somewhere. Dan thought quickly, looking down the valley to the group making their way up towards him. Robin wouldn’t have gone that way. No, he’d probably be heading back up to the canal.

  Dan set off at a swift pace, tripping over only one tree root before breaking out into the moonlit clearing by the stile.

  The stile with a dark figure sitting astride it.

  A dark figure with cropped hair who was panting as hard as Dan was. Dan strode over, placed a foot on the stile and hoisted himself up to where Robin was perched. When Dan saw the dark wells of Robin’s eyes, he knew that words wouldn’t be necessary. He dived in with a hard, biting kiss, grinding his chin against Robin’s stubble with all the force of his thwarted lust.

  When they heard the whooping of the approaching children, Robin pulled back.

  “My boat’s closer,” Robin said.

  Dan grinned.

  Dan pushed his bike to Serendipity. Robin had left his own bike with his boat, so Dan was the only one with his hands occupied. His fingers felt mutinous, desperate to start exploring Robin. He studied Robin’s profile instead, marvelling at the fine bone structure that made such an intriguing contrast to the scruffy clothing and military haircut. What had made a man so obviously well-bred end up living on a boat like a feckless hippie? Of course, there was always the possibility that Robin really was a feckless hippie at heart, but the evidence of his dedicated craftsmanship and the distinct lack of crystals and joss sticks on his boat suggested otherwise. And he’d never once mentioned apologising to the spirits of the trees whose wood he used.

  “Here she is,” Robin said, pointing at Serendipity. She was moored up in the middle of what looked like a dying reed bed, with a narrow plank between the bank and the deck.

  Dan swallowed hard, concentrating on locking his bike so as not to think about having to walk the plank. He was light and lithe. He didn’t need to worry about falling in. Besides which, the canal was shallow and Robin was here to look out for him.

  Yet when he made his way to the end of the plank he paused, his heart pounding like the drums still sounding in the valley below. Robin was watching him from the deck. Bugger. He refused to play the effeminate queen like Tris did, but there were times when his manliness deserted him.

  “Uh, any chance of a hand?” Dan asked, his eyes closed so as not to see the mockery that would be filling Robin’s by now. “Not that I’m scared or anything…”

  Robin answered with a low chuckle, and Dan felt the board shift under his feet and warm hands wrap around his.

  “Just step. There’s no need to watch your feet,” Robin said.

  And so Dan walked, two regular steps bringing him to the deck where he collapsed gratefully into Robin’s arms. “Thanks,” he breathed into Robin’s neck.

  “That’s all right. I expect you just couldn
’t wait to get your hands on me again, could you?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Dan pulled back to give Robin a lopsided smile. He didn’t really want to explain about the swimming thing right now.

  “Shall we?” Dan asked, nodding his head towards the doors. Robin answered by opening them, disappearing into the dark boat as warm, woodsmoke-scented air escaped from within. When the dim light flicked on, Dan followed.

  Robin crouched down in front of the stove, opened the door and stabbed inside with the poker. Dan stepped behind him, watching the flames licking up around the coals inside. Robin added more fuel using a small shovel. Eventually the fire seemed to be stoked to his satisfaction, and he shut the glass door, leaning back on his haunches and staring up at Dan with an impenetrable expression.

  Dan gave in to temptation and stroked Robin’s hair, the short crop surprisingly soft and thick. Robin’s lips parted as he shifted position, leaning back against Dan’s thigh. The sight of Robin kneeling before him sent blood rushing to Dan’s cock. It was just a shame he was facing the wrong way, but it didn’t stop him from pulling Robin’s head closer and canting his hips forward, brushing his denim-clad erection against an ear. Robin gave a shuddering exhalation, craning around farther and mouthing against Dan’s cock, making him groan and roll his hips.

  “Think now you’ve heated things up, maybe I need to take some clothes off,” Dan said, not sure whether he wanted to get his own or Robin’s clothes off first. Robin gave him a look that he couldn’t decipher and made a cut-off noise in his throat. If that wasn’t just the sexiest sound…