Page 32 of Reckless

I fucked into him steadily until I couldn’t hold back anymore, until the need to come built higher and higher, coiling tightly within me, and I had to chase my release. When it was close, I slapped Robbie on the arse, then reached under him and curled my fingers around his cock. He was closer than I was. It only took a few strokes to bring him off, his cum coating my fingers and the bedspread underneath him. I wasn’t far behind him, a few quick, stuttering thrusts taking me over the edge, and when Robbie’s knees collapsed under him, I followed him down onto the mattress.

He was sweaty and messy, breathing heavily. I peeled myself off him, rolling away. I stood.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into the pillow.

“I’ll be right back.”

I went to the bathroom, disposed of the condom, and grabbed a face washer. I wet it under the tap, and returned to the bedroom. Robbie hadn’t moved. I urged him gently out of the wet spot and wiped him down with the washer. He watched me through half-closed eyes.

“I’ll get you some water,” I said. “You can get under the covers if you like.”

I opened the drawer for a pair of pyjama pants and stepped into them. Then I went downstairs to get him a glass of water.

On my way back, he met me at the bottom of the stairs. He was dressed, carrying his boots by their pull loops. His gaze met mine and then skittered away.

“I should go,” he said.

“You should drink this,” I said, holding the water out to him.

He took it awkwardly and sipped.

“You’re welcome to stay,” I said. “We could talk about it.”

He shook his head and handed the barely touched glass back to me. Stared at the floor. “Got to be up early for milking. Thanks.”

And then he stepped past me heading for the front door and was gone.

So I went and made a cup of tea and sat in my kitchen and didn’t sleep.

Dawn on Dauntless Island was incredible. First the darkness softened, and then the entire world turned pink and gold as the sun rose out of the ocean. I sat in my front garden with my third cup of tea, now long cold, and watched as the sky lit up and the sea burned. The men who worked on the boats appeared in dribs and drabs from the village streets, their voices low and still full of sleep as they made their way down to the jetty. I caught a glimpse of Archie Hooper walking with another man.

The gulls woke with the daylight, gathering in little groups along the harbour wall. Occasionally one of them spotted something in the water, and took off towards it, trailed by its curious fellows. I saw a gull catch a fish and drop it, and a sudden raucous riot broke out before one of them got away with the prize.

The fishing boats chugged out into the ocean.

The dawn shifted slowly into another beautiful day.

I thought of Robbie and wondered if he was awake yet. He probably was, but what the hell did I know about the work he did, apart from the way his expression turned soft and fond when he talked about his cows and his goats?

I felt restless and more than a little guilty. I hadn’t gone hard on Robbie—not harder than he’d sought out in his past—but I should have tried to make him stay, if only for an hour or two, instead of letting him walk out. He’d been floating last night, which meant there would be an inevitable drop, and even if he hadn’t wanted any aftercare from me, I should have at least made sure he knew how to look after himself.

Then again, this was the man who regularly went to Newcastle to get beaten up in order to get himself off. Was there anything I could tell him about the lows after the high? Still, the guilt persisted, and not just because he’d walked out last night.

I hadn’t slept with another man since Neal, and it was strange how large that thought loomed this morning when it hadn’t felt significant last night. And, to be clear, Neal and I hadn’t slept together for months before his death. Possibly even longer than months. I’d told myself we both worked long hours and our schedules rarely lined up, but hadn’t I been secretly relieved? It had been easier to ignore the growing distance between us than to address it, because if we’d addressed it, we might have had to admit that neither of us was particularly invested in our relationship anymore.

I wished we’d both been better people.

I wondered if Neal had wished that too.

The squeak of my front gate pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, doc!” Button John waved at me, as ludicrously bright and cheerful as always.

“Good morning.” I eased myself up from my chair. “You’re here early.”

About ten hours too early, since he was meant to clean up after the clinic had closed for the day.

“Yeah, I’m going over to Mayfair Bay,” he said. “Gonna go out with Young Harry Barnes and get some crabs. Thought I’d come by and see if you wanted any. Also.” He tugged up the long sleeve of his flannel shirt and showed me a wound on his forearm. “Can you look at this? I would have asked my mum, but then she’d know I had the drill out, and I’m not supposed to use the drill without supervision.”