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time to the rhythm of his pumping hips, Kaspar almost howled with pleasure.
    “You like that?” the Pole kept repeating. “You like that, huh?”
    “I love it.” Those were the last words Kaspar managed to form before everything became too much for him. He fought to hold back his climax, but to no avail. Cum shot from his cock-tip as sharp shudders racked his body.
    Blazej kept on pounding into him, his movements becoming faster, less controlled as he neared his own orgasm. He exclaimed something in what Kaspar assumed to be Polish, his fingers still gripping tight around the root of Kaspar’s shaft. A moment or two later, he pulled out to sprawl on the bed, panting hard.
    “You are one hot fuck,” Blazej told him. “Such a tight, beautiful arse… So for your first time, was it what you hoped?”
    Oh, yes, and so much more. Worth going back for a repeat performance, though he knew that would never be possible. “Mm-hm. I only hope you have a good story to tell Magdalena when you see her next.”
    “Very much so. She is an incredible woman, Kaspar. She gives me so much freedom, so much love. I only wish you could meet her.”
    Kaspar rolled toward the wall, allowing Blazej the room to climb off the mattress, turn out the main light, then make a careful ascent to the upper bunk. The springs of the bed creaked and sagged a little as the man made himself comfortable. In almost no time at all, the sound of soft snoring filled the small cabin.
    Well, it’s done. There’s no turning back now.
    The ferry sailed steadily on toward the Essex coast. Kaspar pulled the covers around him, closed his eyes, and slept.
     

Chapter Five
     
     
     
    Jon looked up in response to the knock at the door. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was gone eight o’clock. He pushed the book he’d been reading to one side and called, “Come in.”
    A young black woman wearing pale blue overalls came into the room. He didn’t recognize her. That meant she must be new. He worked late on such a regular basis that he was on first-name terms with pretty much all the university’s cleaning staff.
    “It’s okay if I—?” She gestured to the waste-paper bin at the side of his desk.
    “Yeah, sure.”
    With a couple of efficient shakes, she emptied it into a black plastic rubbish bag, muttered a shy, “Thank you,” then left as swiftly as she’d entered.
    Hey, I don’t bite, he wanted to tell her. But then who knew what kind of reputation he’d gained on campus? Nutty Professor Fellowes, locked away in his study night after night looking for evidence of pagan cults and weird mythical creatures that were thought to have once roamed the Somerset countryside. Though the other members of the faculty never said as much, he was well aware they considered him to be a borderline obsessive, an impression he’d done nothing to discourage in the months since he and Simon had split in such an acrimonious fashion.
    He hadn’t always been such a workaholic, but after discovering Simon had been cheating on him with some random guy he’d met via an online dating site, it had seemed much safer to retreat into his research. What his lover had done had shattered his faith in men. And he might never have known what had been going on if Simon hadn’t sent him that terse text saying he thought Jon ought to get himself checked out at the local STI clinic. All kinds of horrifying possibilities had raced through his mind, and even when the tests had come back negative, he still couldn’t forgive Simon—not just for being so stupid as to have sex with some stranger without using protection, putting both himself and Jon at risk, but for the cowardly way in which he’d admitted to having caught something. He hadn’t had the guts to raise the subject in a face-to-face conversation, no doubt knowing how Jon would have reacted. Not that it would have changed anything if he had. The trust between them had gone, and as far as Jon was concerned, they would