Dangerous Liaison - Sex Stories

Dangerous Liaison

... I wouldn't want to be the thugs who beat Frankie up if Robbie and David caught up with them.

"Well. I'll let you get on. I'll see you in three weeks, Robbie."

I smiled at both men and walked away, hearing their conversation resume. And I didn't look back.

My phone pinged five hours later and dragged me from near sleep. A WhatsApp message, which I opened to find a photo and a typing... message.

I smiled at the picture. It was Frankie. Obviously deeply asleep and curled on his side. There was a small boy tucked into the small of his back, and another nestled in his arms holding his hand. David's twin nephews.

The message came up.

'Just checked in on Frankie before going home. Josh and Danny must have snuck in to keep an eye on him. So sweet.'

'That's adorable. They know him well?'

'Very well. He's their favourite Uncle!'

'I'm sure that's not true. At least he has someone to keep an eye on him.'

'Actually, Dad's here and is taking them away in the morning, they are going to join their Ma in Glasgow.'

'That will give Robbie time to concentrate on the next dance.' I knew that their Nan had undergone a recent hip replacement and Robbie's wife, Mandy was in Glasgow to look after her.

There was one of those pauses where I could see typing, then nothing, then typing.

Eventually.

'It was really hard to see you today. Having already said goodbye. Text me when you get to the States?'

'Yes it was. And I will. I'll see you soon.'

I sighed ...

... and turned off my phone. Wondering if sleep was going to come tonight and thinking about the day I met David.

-X

Several weeks earlier, I had tried to very carefully demonstrate a move while teaching a class, and immediately regretted it.

By the time I limped home my knee was the size of a melon. I knew I needed an injection and I sure as hell wasn't waiting for fourteen hours in A&E.

I'm a huge fan of the UK's National Health Service. It's an overstretched, underfunded organisation, filled to a certain level with incredibly hard working and dedicated people, and at a higher level with people who don't listen to common sense.

Didn't mean I wanted to be caught up in the system though, no matter how dedicated people are.

I called my concierge GP and threw myself on their mercy. Ice, elevation and we'll be there soon. My doorbell rang just under an hour later.

Leaning heavily on the furniture I hobbled over to the door and swung it open. Overbalancing, putting my foot down, gasping, "Fuck!" and being caught in the strong arms of one of the most delicious looking guys I had seen in months. Years. Ever.

Tall, black, built, yummy. Swoon.

"Dr David Armstrong," he introduced himself in a lovely soft accent. Irish? Scottish? "Couch or bed?" he asked, swinging my arm around his shoulder and taking my weight.

With some effort I dragged my brain back from filth-land. "Couch is fine. I have an ice pack there."

We made it over and I crashed onto the couch. ...