"Nah."
Quelle surprise. After all, he was in his mid-twenties and still living in his mum's house, driving his mum's car …
"Studying."
Okay, that was a surprise. I glanced at the front of his T-shirt. "Archaeology, by any chance?"
"Yuh. PhD."
That was definitely a surprise. I scrabbled for something to say apart from an inane remark on how interesting that must be. "Er, do you do a lot of digs?"
Adam's eyes lit up, and he pulled out his phone to show me a variety of snaps in various shades of mud. Adam, in a ditch; Adam, standing looking into a ditch. Adam with a skull, presumably ancient and not, say, from his latest acid-bath victim. Adam proudly holding something that was probably a priceless historical artifact but which, to my untrained eyes, just looked like a bit of mud. Adam, with his cock out-what?
He grinned sheepishly and turned the phone off. "Din't mean to show you that one," he said, but the way he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye made me wonder just how much of an accident it had been. "You done there?"
I collected my scrambled wits. "Oh-yes, I'm stuffed. You?"
Adam nodded. "C'mon, then. Let's go back to yours." There was a suggestive look in his eye, and I realised now was the time to say something like, "I think we should just be friends," if I was ever going to say it.
I bottled it. Well, there was something about the rough voice and the roguish smile and all right, that last photo that had me thinking, maybe … But basically, I bottled it. Aided and abetted by my treacherous cock. "Okay," I said, my voice suddenly hoarse.
As we sped through the dark lanes in Adam's mum's Mondeo, my mind was a confusing maelstrom of guilt and lust. "Late, isn't it?" I said nervously. "I don't know where the time went."
"'S aright. No work tomorrow."
"Still, lots of things to get done … I never realised how much time keeping a shop takes up." Guilt was winning for the moment.
"Y' gotta have a day off, every now'n'then."
"True, true."
"Enjoy y'self while you're young."
He thought I was young? I was definitely warming to Adam. "Would you, er, like to come in for a coffee or something?" I asked. Guilt threw up its hands in despair and headed off home for an early night.
Adam gave an enthusiastic grunt and reached over to give my thigh a squeeze, presumably to indicate he was more interested in the something than in the coffee. I swallowed, suddenly feeling coffee was entirely overrated as a beverage.
As we got out of the car I managed to spare a thought for any neighbours of Jay's who might be watching, and fended off Adam's grabby hands halfheartedly. "Inside," I muttered, my mouth dry with lust. We fell in the front door, and then he was on me, pinning me to the wall with his body, his hard cock doing its best to drill a hole in my thigh. "Oh, God," I gasped, my own prick doing an impressive impersonation of a red-hot iron bar. I humped against him helplessly.
Probably sensing I was about to embarrass myself copiously, Adam backed off a little. "'S a great shirt," he said, running his hands up and down the front. I could feel his calluses through the fabric and hoped distractedly he wouldn't snag the threads. My nipples, however, revelled in the contact, trying to poke right through the material and feel the touch of his warm flesh directly. I opened my mouth to say something, but he beat me to it, sealing my lips with one of his trademark messy kisses. Adam's tongue invaded my mouth as his hands made a recce over my arse, mapping the territory with his clutching fingers.
"Sofa. This way," I blurted when he came up for air. I had a feeling my knees were way too weak to manage the stairs right now. Also, as Wolverine was nowhere to be seen, chances were he'd already claimed the bed. Grabbing Adam's hand, I pulled him into the darkness of the living room. We reached the sofa, and I toppled over onto it with him on top of me. Pushing Adam's T-shirt up, I ran my hands over his broad, strong back. With my eyes shut, I could almost imagine it was Matt I was groping, although he smelt all wrong-earth and coriander, not cinnamon and sunshine …
This was so, so wrong. Adam, I told myself firmly. I was with Adam, not Matt.
And when had I noticed how Matt smelled, anyhow?
Adam wriggled around on the sofa until he was lying beside me, not on top of me anymore. I'd have questioned the wisdom of this, but it all became clear when he unzipped my jeans with a practised hand and grabbed me through my underwear.
"God!" I nearly hit the ceiling. "Don't stop!" I added as he promptly did so, probably fearing a repeat of last night's zero-to-orgasm in nought point three seconds.