Felix yelled aloud at the shock of running into someone in the dark corridor. A firm hand clamped over his mouth and Felix clutched the strong arm that held him. When the hand eased a little, he was wondering frantically what to say by way of explanation for his presence, when a wave of sandalwood mingled with leather hit him. There was only one person in the world who smelled like that. Only one person with that underlying scent of manliness. He swallowed and stared at the floor, gathering his composure. Why would Dexter be here? Why? The conclusion he drew both terrified and exhilarated him.
The hand over his mouth lifted and Felix had to make himself not lick his lips.
“Brook?” It was him. Mark Dexter was standing in front of him, one arm holding him tight. Felix had regretted not taking up the earlier, blatant invitation with every fibre of his being. Castigated himself as an abject looby for not responding with at least a smidgeon of sophistication and behaving like the insular, lonely schoolmaster he was.
“You followed me.” He hadn’t a clue what else to say.
“Is that what you think?”
Felix had to look up at that. “Well, why else are you here?”
Moonlight shone through the window beside them, casting a ghostly glow over Dexter’s head, making his hair look darker and his eyes gleam.
“Why else indeed,” Dexter whispered and stepped closer. Felix’s instinct was to run, but he held his ground. This was probably the last chance he would get to spend time with him. Who was he fooling? Spend time? He didn’t want to spend time, he wanted to… Well, he didn’t know what in God’s name he wanted but it involved Captain Mark Dexter in his rooms. In his bed, leaning over him, kissing him, feeling the weight of him. Christ, he wanted him naked.
“Do you want me to leave?” Dexter was so close he could feel the warmth from his body.
This was it. All he had to do was say ‘yes’ and he was sure that Dexter would leave. He had done so last time.
“Mr. Brook?”
“My name is Felix,” he said, surprised at how deep and rough his voice was.
A smile spread across Dexter’s sculpted features. “Felix,” he whispered as though tasting the word on his tongue.
“You can’t be calling me Mr. Brook. That man was your teacher.”
“And this man, Felix?”
Felix shivered as Dexter moved closer. He touched his nose to Felix’s ear and the breath left Felix’s chest. His eyes fluttered closed, his mouth opened on a soundless word, and he leaned into the contact.
Dexter’s hand slid around Felix’s waist, and he pulled him a tiny bit nearer. He pushed his nose against Felix’s cheek and nuzzled. Felix felt the soft warmth of his breath, the scent of his skin, and the latent strength in the body that stood so, so close.
“Might this man, Felix, be my lover for tonight?”