CHAPTER TWELVE
Ben was still in the mood to tease about the strange woman in the restaurant and insisted on his plan of impregnation so Nikolas wouldn’t be jealous. By this time, however, Nikolas had suffered enough being made fun of so reminded Ben for most of the rest of the night just who was in charge in their relationship. Nikolas’s reminders weren’t gentle. They were both soldiers, and although Ben didn’t exactly enjoy the painful games Nikolas played with him, he definitely relished the quivering, intense orgasms they gave him. It wasn’t the best night, therefore, for Radulf to set up a volley of barking at five, just after they’d both drifted off exhausted and spent. Ben sat bolt upright, grunted, and then fell back asleep. Radulf didn’t stop. Nikolas poked Ben. “What does he want?”
Ben turned, grunted something else and pulled the covers over his head. Uncharacteristically, Nikolas shouted to Radulf to shut the fuck up, but when the noise didn’t stop, he rolled naked out of bed and went downstairs. Radulf was standing at the window, huge paws up on the sill, staring out. Nikolas swatted him away, but he came back growling at the dark outside. Suddenly, a deer shot out of the woodpile and into the forest. Radulf’s volley of barking went up a pitch. Nikolas got hold of his collar and dragged him up the stairs and into the bedroom. He picked him up and heaved him onto the bed. Radulf appeared so surprised by this turn of events he lay quietly, staring at Nikolas with huge amber eyes as he wedged himself back into the very small space that was left.
None of them woke until after lunch. If Nikolas sometimes felt his life lacked purpose, he didn’t mind too much when that meant he could get up when he liked, wear what he liked, and had no further thought for the day but to amuse himself by irritating both Ben and Radulf. He started by kicking Radulf outside as soon as he got downstairs, and although his foot didn’t actually connect, the dog, he reckoned, got the message. He watched him for a while as he sniffed around the log pile and then disappeared off down the track toward the lake, presumably following the deer scent. The dog dispatched, he took some coffee back up to bed for Ben. Ben had been on the receiving end of the let’s-prove-who’s-the-boss-in-this-relationship fun all night, so Nikolas reckoned he was owed coffee in bed.
Lots of Nikolas’s life hadn’t held much pleasure, but sliding back into a still sleep-warm bed with Benjamin was definitely one of the more pleasurable activities. He carefully put the coffee down so as not to wake him. Very gently, he pulled the covers off Ben’s head. Ben grunted and turned. Nikolas smiled, propping himself up on one elbow to study the sleeping form. He combed his fingers through the long, bed-rumpled hair, and Ben opened his eyes. He frowned and mumbled, “Has he stopped barking?”
Nikolas laughed. “Yes. About eight hours ago.”
“Huh.” He seemed prepared to go back to sleep. “What’re you doing?”
“It’s lunchtime, Benjamin. I’m hungry.”
Ben laughed and turned onto his back to give Nikolas more access. He rested his hands very lightly on Nikolas’s head, something that was now tolerated so long as he didn’t press down, and lay back to enjoy the exquisite sensation of Nikolas’s mouth on his swelling cock.
Eventually, when Nikolas was ready, he allowed Ben to come. Ben arched, unable to prevent his fingers snagging Nikolas’s hair. He was still coming down from his high when Nikolas slid up, seized his face and kissed Ben’s own spill back to him. It clearly wasn’t so much fun for Ben, and he was fought off until, both too winded with laugher to continue, they lay side by side in the ruined bed.
“It’s snowing again.”
Nikolas turned to follow Ben’s gaze. Suddenly, he flicked his eyes toward the door. He coughed and suggested, “You shower, maybe, and I’ll put more coffee on?” Ben nodded absentmindedly. Nikolas slunk downstairs and sheepishly opened the door.
§ § §
The rest of the day passed in lazy enjoyment of doing nothing very much. Radulf filled his afternoon glaring at Nikolas and shivering to make him feel guilty. By the time it was dark, the snow was deep, even under the edge of the trees where it had drifted. Ben was clearly feeling restless, so, under protest, Nikolas allowed himself to be dragged out for a walk to the lake. It was only fifty metres, but he didn’t have the childlike love of snow Ben, being English, did. He didn’t find it amusing to be hit by snow or to be shoved into a deep drift. It was much more amusing to push Ben into the lake and watch him flounder in the ice. They’d never put it to the test who was the faster runner; with suitable motivation, Nikolas discovered he could stay ahead of Ben just enough to reach the shelter of the lodge and a locked door before being caught. It was only when he promised to turn on the hot tub Ben promised not to beat him to a pulp.
Watching Ben in the ice had almost been as much fun as stripping him slowly and easing him into hot, bubbling water—almost, but not quite. Nikolas was just about to apologise to him in the way they both enjoyed most when Ben’s phone rang. Nikolas tried to stop him answering, but Ben held it out of his reach. “It might be Anna having the baby!” He thought it was funny and was still laughing when he took the call. Then he frowned and mouthed, “Ingrid,” at Nikolas. He climbed out of the water and went back inside. By the time Nikolas came in, Ben was dressing. “She thinks someone has tried to break in.”
“She should ring the police. Do you want me to come?”
“You want to have conversations with the police?”
“Ah, no, not particularly. Who am I today? I’ve forgotten. But take the dog. He’s good at barking at nothing.”
§ § §
When Ben got to the house, the police were already there. There were no footprints in the snow, but it had been snowing heavily. The house was well shuttered and nothing appeared to have been disturbed. Ben chatted to the inspector for a while and told him he was staying the night. There was not much else anyone could do. Ingrid, now slightly embarrassed at her initial panic, made light of the whole situation and demanded Ben return home when it was light. He noticed she didn’t suggest he leave that night. He went around the whole property after the police left, checking it was secure. It was still snowing heavily.
He rang Nikolas to tell him his plan to stay the night with Ingrid. “You gonna be okay?” It occurred to him that without another car Nikolas was rather trapped. It was a little redundant therefore to ask him, but he was considerate like that.
“I’ll cope.” Nikolas rang off. That was abrupt, even for him.
Ben tapped the phone against his lips for a moment, debating phoning him back, but he wasn’t the one who’d been rude. He didn’t feel so bad about the car now.
He sat with Ingrid watching one of their favourite shows, and Ingrid chastised him for not practising his Danish enough with Aleksey. Ben didn’t point out they practised plenty, just not vocabulary he could demonstrate to her.
In the morning, Ingrid insisted Ben return home. She’d called her son in Copenhagen, and he was sending his oldest teenage son to stay with her for the Christmas holiday. Ben decided to leave Radulf at the house with her until the boy arrived. She assured him it wasn’t necessary; he said he didn’t want the dog anymore and if she didn’t take him he’d have him put down. She smiled faintly at his joke but then seemed pleased to agree Radulf should stay.
§ § §
When Ben returned home the following afternoon, he was surprised to find Nikolas chopping wood. Other than making the occasional cup of coffee, Nikolas did nothing useful around the house at all. He didn’t understand the concept of laundry, having used a service his whole adult life. He refused to cook, claiming it was women’s work. Housework of any kind was included in this dismissal. He occasionally liked to drive the car but was always surprised it ran out of fuel and furious if it did this when he was driving. Ben sometimes wondered what life in the Russian Special Forces was like, but clearly it wasn’t much like life in the British version. He’d been taught to iron at sixteen, and cleaning meant taking the faceplates off wall sockets and scrubbing the screw holes with his toothbrush. He’d slept on the floor in a sleeping bag for the first year of his army service so his bed remained inspection perfect. Living with Nikolas had always been something of a strain, therefore. Ben tried to remember that having been married to royalty, albeit minor royalty, Nikolas had expectations of his staff. What riled him slightly was Nikolas now appeared to consider him staff. To see Nikolas, therefore, stripped to the waist, chopping wood, with an open bottle of vodka beside him, was something of a revelation. To see he cut wood effortlessly and better than he did was extremely annoying. He put it down to Nikolas’s Scandinavian heritage and tried not to take it too personally.
Nikolas stopped when Ben climbed out of the car. He slammed the axe into the block, picking up his shirt and the vodka. “How is she?”
“I don’t think there was anyone, but I’ve left Radulf with her.”
“No burglar is safe. Did you leave his blankie with him?”
“He’s not gay, and, yes, I did leave his blanket. He doesn’t like to sleep without it.”
“So…” Nikolas caught him around the waist. “I’ve been neglected. I’m…restive…”
Ben kissed him slowly, easing his lips to Nikolas’s ear. “I think you’re drunk, which is a shame, because we’re going for a run.”
§ § §
Ben took pity on him and only did a five-mile jog through the forest tracks. It was totally flat, so it was hardly a run at all. Nikolas complained the whole way, finding any excuse to stop, checking his shoelaces, pointing out where the snow was too deep for safety, and generally making sure he didn’t need to break into a sweat or breathe deeply. Consequently, they were both freezing and shivering when they got back. Ben immediately stripped and eased himself into the hot tub. Nikolas took the time to fetch another bottle of vodka and two glasses before joining him. Ben wasn’t used to hot tubs, and the whole sitting outside in the snow thing still fascinated him. He watched the flakes dissolving in the bubbling water with total concentration until a foot landed between his outstretched thighs. Nikolas handed him a glass of vodka.
Ben frowned. “Haven’t you had enough?” Nikolas mumbled something. Ben raised his eyebrows. “Did you just call me a pussy?”
“We don’t have a word for pussy in Danish.” Nikolas was obviously confident Ben couldn’t contradict him on this, and while Ben was struggling to see if he could remember anyone teaching him this word, which was unlikely as his main language teachers had been an elderly primary school teacher and an almost equally old librarian, Nik added with a smirk, “I’ll have to make you drink. Perhaps it’s time for you to learn some Russian games, Benjamin. If I can name one thing you’ve done I haven’t, then you must take a drink.”
Ben pursed his lips. “I’ve not done anything you haven’t done a hundred times worse. Don’t be ridiculous.” He had the distinct impression Nikolas hadn’t just thought of this game, and that, in fact, it wasn’t actually a game at all. It flicked across his mind that maybe Nikolas had been more put out by his overnight absence than he’d let on—and hence the curt dismissal the previous night. Incredible as it seemed, Ben now realised that Nikolas believed he’d not gone to Ingrid’s at all. Studying Nikolas now, he was pretty sure there had been steady drinking all night and Nikolas had worked himself into believing he was being cheated on with a large-breasted woman. It was too ludicrous to dignify with an explanation. He was about to climb out of the tub and leave him to his drunken, Russian games when Nikolas murmured slyly, “So, you chicken out like typical British SAS.”
Ben sat back in the water. “Did you seriously just say that?”
Nikolas shrugged. “Who won the war?”
“What war?”
“Ack.” Nikolas made one of his dismissing gestures. “So, we play?” He considered Ben carefully then said with some confidence, “I’ve never fucked my married boss.”
Ben gave him a look then nodded slowly. He was right, not a game at all. He took a swallow of vodka. “I’ve never committed adultery with a male employee.”
Nikolas shrugged and drank. “Too easy. I’ve never kissed and then tried to fuck a professor of ethics.”
Ben gave him an even longer look then drank. “I’ve never buried my brother in sand up to his neck and left him to the tide.”
Nikolas laughed, clearly very pleased with himself, but drank. “I’ve never worn women’s clothing.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “I have never fucking―”
“Don’t swear at me, and you had to put on a burqa in Iran to get to the airport.”
“That’s not―”
“Do men wear burqas? I think not. Drink up.”
“I’ve never taken illegal drugs.” Nikolas narrowed his eyes, pouted, and then drank under protest. But he added in a surly undertone, “You’ve never been in prison, you wouldn’t understand.” He tipped his head to one side, theatrically thinking. “I’ve never starred in a porn movie.”
“Fuck off! I was undercover for you!” Nikolas pointed at Ben’s glass and mimed drinking. Ben did then with a scowl retorted, “I’ve never shot a woman.”
Nikolas stilled his hand. He looked down at the water, considering, but then drank.
Ben wasn’t pleased to have had this guess confirmed. He liked this game less and less. He was tempted to reassure Nikolas he’d only been at Ingrid’s and get him to call Ingrid to confirm, but something, some sliver of pride, held him back.
Nikolas stirred the water for a while then said, “I’ve never set fire to someone and watched them burn.”
“I didn’t watch.” Ben drank. “I’ve never just inherited every thing I have.”
Nikolas waved his glass in an irritating fashion and drank. “I’ve never slept with a prostitute.”
Ben laughed. “I don’t believe you.”
Nikolas shrugged. “Drink.”
Ben did. “I’ve never murdered a child.”
Nikolas was pouring them both more vodka. His hand shook slightly, but he dutifully drank. Ben really didn’t want to play this game any more. He was just about to end it, even if Nikolas did call him a pussy again, when Nik drawled deceptively casually, “I’ve never allowed someone to tie me up and hit me.”
Ben didn’t take a drink. He couldn’t believe Nikolas had just said this. His wrists and ankles were still raw from Nikolas’s game, Nikolas’s will—Nikolas’s pleasure. And to be accused of…to have it implied he was somehow weak for allowing the very thing Nikolas wanted…For allowing it. His head was swimming. He felt sick. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I’ve never fucked my twin brother.”
Nikolas stared at the bubbles as if he hadn’t heard this then looked off into the trees. He tipped his head slightly as if he’d finally heard but was trying to process the actual words, and then he shot out of the water and grabbed his towel. Ben followed, the water sloshing heavily over the side of the tub. Nikolas swung around, pointing. “You don’t get to say that. Whatever you are.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I―What the fuck do you mean, whatever I am?”
“You’ll never understand, and I don’t think I want to explain it to you.”
Ben froze on the implication of Nikolas’s words. “You did? I was only trying to fuck you around, to get back at you for saying―My God, Nik, when? You fucked your brother?”
Their teeth were chattering. Ben grabbed Nikolas’s arm. The deck was icy. As Nikolas wrenched away, Ben slipped. He still had hold of the arm, though, so they both went off into the snowdrift. Naked, they staggered to their feet. “That’s what he accused you of, isn’t it? Before he fell—before you pushed him? It was nothing to do with that street boy. You killed him because he reminded you that―!”
“Stop it! I don’t want to talk about this!”
Ben began to speak again, but Nikolas swung his fist. Ben went down. It was just as well Nikolas was painfully drunk, it was a clumsy shot. Even so, the blood dripping from Ben’s split lip was shockingly red in the frozen white world. He lumbered to his feet and landed heavily on Nikolas, thumping him down into the snow. They rolled, wrestling, scrabbling to try and gain purchase and swinging fists ineffectually. Finally, Nikolas kneed Ben in the balls and rolled on top of him. Before Ben could stop retching, Nikolas grabbed his thighs, parted them and forced himself in. Ben was beyond furious and tried to push him off, but Nikolas laughed and held him down, finally proving which one of them would win a fight purely by the fact he was willing to do things in a struggle Ben wasn’t. He came very quickly and with very little pleasure. There was certainly no pleasure for Ben because Nikolas had deliberately not taken time to bring him off or allow him to work himself. They’d had far more vicious sex only the night before, but that had been in an entirely different context. They both knew who was really in control when Nikolas wanted to play his games. Being fucked in the snow didn’t seem like much of a game to Ben. He pushed Nikolas off, still feeling sick from the hit to the balls and from the vodka—which suddenly came up in a rush. He vomited into the snow, spitting. Nikolas stood slowly alongside him. He staggered slightly, still under the influence of the vodka himself, and Ben was damn sure now Nikolas had been plastered well before he’d arrived.
He crawled to his feet, shivering so badly he couldn’t speak. Nikolas put out a hand, but Ben jerked his arm away. He walked slowly back into the house and to the shower. He stood under the stream for a very long time until the hot water ran out. He should never have said what he did. It wasn’t for him to wrench Nikolas’s secrets out as if he were extracting a bad tooth without anaesthetic. He lifted his face to the water, even though it was cold, and then knew he had to make this right.
He dried off and dressed in some jeans and a sweater and went down to make peace. Nikolas wasn’t in yet. He frowned; Nikolas only had a towel, and it was still snowing heavily. He went outside. The tub was empty. The car was still there. He trudged through the snow to the woodpile, but Nikolas wasn’t there either. He went up on the deck and scanned the whole area up to the forest. He could barely see his bright blood, for it was now almost covered by snow. His footprints were fully covered. It was turning into a blizzard.
He must have missed Nik inside, which would’ve been difficult as there was only one room up and one room down. Even so, he went back in and searched. Nikolas’s clothes were on the sofa, but no Nikolas. Ben began to take it seriously. Up to then, he’d thought it was Nikolas just…being Nikolas. He grabbed a coat and a flashlight and went back into the snow. He called out, wishing he had Radulf. He went back to the last place he’d seen him standing in the snow and examined it carefully. The blood was almost totally obscured. On closer examination, there appeared to be two splatters. He couldn’t remember exactly what had happened when Nikolas had hit him. He put his fingers to his lip. It wasn’t bleeding now, it hadn’t been a very hard hit and wouldn’t have bled that much. With the flashlight and squatting close to the snow, he thought he could see signs of impact, but then they’d fallen and rolled and wrestled, and he’d been fucked, so he reckoned there would be some signs. He looked up. There was no sound at all. The snow seemed to suck everything from the air. He bellowed Nikolas’s name but heard nothing in reply.
He had absolutely no idea what to do.