Page 49 of Companion Required

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Page 49 of Companion Required

“Clearly. So does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“For what?” asked Kieran, a puzzled expression on his face.

“For everything,” said Kennedy. “Forcing the kiss on you. Not standing up for you in front of Patrick when he was being a royal prick. For making you smoke a cigarette.”

“According to Joey, you did stand up for me. Only you did so after I’d left.”

Kennedy snorted. He’d forgotten Joey had rushed into the bar after Kieran had walked off and would have heard his heated exchange with Patrick.

“And for the record, you didn’t force me to kiss you. Bribed, maybe. But nothing was forced on me. Besides, that must be the quickest monkey anyone’s ever made.”

“Monkey, huh?” said Kennedy, grinning at the cockney money slang. “I meant it, though, you know? I will honour that deal.”

“Yeah, but I only really gave you about a hundred and fifty quid’s worth. How about the other three-fifty?”

“You get that anyway. For having to put up with my shit.”

Kennedy allowed Kieran to twirl him around until he faced the table where Richmond and Mike sat watching, probably murmuring sweet nothings about them both. Patrick and Joey had not joined them.

“Nah,” whispered Kieran in his ear, before spinning him back round. “Got a much better idea.”

In front of the whole room, Kieran brought their lips together, but before they could connect, Kennedy placed his hands on Kieran’s chest, and held him back.

“Kieran, you don’t have to do this. People will see us, will see you.”

“Uh, that’s kind of the point. Plus, I need to test something out. So please indulge me for a minute or two.”

Once again Kieran moved forward, and this time Kennedy closed his eyes, felt the full force of Kieran’s lips press against his. At first, the kiss was tentative, a brush of lips as though exploring, but then Kieran teased open his lips. Once their tongues collided, Kieran tilted his head, his hands weaving through Kennedy’s hair, drawing him forward. When he deepened the kiss, when their tongues began to dance their private tango, Kennedy crushed their bodies tightly together. Eventually they came up for air, and Kennedy’s heart filled to see Kieran’s startled gaze, as well as his plump lips, moist and reddened, and his dilated pupils.

“My God, Kennedy! I really like kissing you. What does that say about me?”

“That you have good taste.”

“Can we head back to the cabin?” asked Kieran, ignoring the quip and instead plucking a playing card from his top pocket. “I’ve had this jack of spades burning a hole in my pocket for days now. And I think I’m finally ready to trade it in tonight.”

“I don’t understand. Is that why you’re packing?” asked Kennedy, confused. “But you know I can’t fly you out until the end of the cruise.”

“I wasn’t packing. I was trying to find my bloody bow tie. And anyway, that’s not what I’m asking. I want to trade this baby in for its original purpose. I want to swap this for one of your world famous, apparently mind-numbing blow jobs. Best in the northern hemisphere, according to my sources.”

“Hang on, Kieran. Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

“Fuck that. I’m the one getting the blow job, not you. You think you’re man enough?”

After staring at him for a couple of seconds, Kennedy grabbed Kieran by the hand and dragged him off the dance floor back towards their room.