David’s face was flushed with guilt, or was it embarrassment?
Fortunately, the lady’s ire was directed toward him at the moment. Her all too knowing gaze sliced through him. “He knows enough, and I know enough. We will not suit. Leave it at that.”
“Your mind is made up?”
“Yes.”
She tossed a vase from its pedestal before leaving and slamming the door.
Randall ran a hand down his face, another habit he feared was forming. “Well, that went brilliantly.”
“I will talk to her. It might take a while, but she will come to terms with this.”
Randall nodded, not at all sure.
Chapter Nine
There, across Boodle’s reading room, in the crimson brocade chair, Randall finally found David.
The man was perusing a newspaper, dark hair falling across one eye. He looked disheveled, pensive.
Randall’s heart stopped for a moment and then raced like fire sweeping through the stews.
Head bent, studying the newsprint, a hint of long graceful neck was visible, barely a glimpse of sensitive, kissable skin. A nip placed just below the ear always sent David wild with passion.
He clenched his jaw to keep desire leashed.
It was no accident, this meeting. No, he had been to five clubs where the earl, David’s father, kept membership for the male members of the family. Actually, it was five clubs today. The same five clubs for the past ten days.
David wrote something in a small leather-bound diary, looked back at the newspaper, then wrote again.
No one else was close enough to see, so: time to act.
He dropped his cane, brought along for the little drama he planned. It clattered onto the polished marble flooring of the fireplace surround.
David looked up, his eyes widened, nostrils flared, but he did not look away. He seemed stunned…scared? No, that was a look of longing if ever there was one.
Randall felt a surge of pure feral lust and loneliness and pain. He forced himself to follow through with his plan, so he made a show of being surprised. He closed his eyes and swallowed hugely, hoping David could see the gesture. He then turned and left. Not really at fleeing speed but more rapidly than was proper for a viscount.
Moments later, one shoulder propped against an elm lining St. James Street, some fifty feet away from the club’s entrance, he waited. Only a few seconds passed before David propelled himself out of the club. He looked left, then right.
Ah, so he still cared. Good!
David spotted him, and the look of anxiety turned to dark brooding. He knew he’d been had. David turned and started in the opposite direction.
Damn, this was not part of the plan. Perhaps he didn’t care. Or cared but was not ready? He had to find out. “Wedgewood.” He joined the man on the sidewalk and said loudly, for the sake of a small crowd of young bucks loitering outside the club, “Good to see you,” and more quietly for the sake of his plan, “It has been a long time, my dear friend.”
David stared at his shoes. “Yes.”
Damn, so cold. “Wondered when I might see you again.”
Raising that handsome black-haired head, David finally made eye contact but said nothing.
“We should catch up on things. Here, I’ll give you a ride.” He motioned to his closed carriage.
“Um, no, I—”
He added a bit of command in his whisper. “David! I will give you a ride!” He’d worked too hard to find the man; he would not accept no. Turned out he didn’t have to accept rejection just yet; David nodded and then climbed into the vehicle.
He’d brought the more private carriage instead of the cozy phaeton, which would have been better suited for such a lovely day. He waited until the vehicle was rolling. “I expected to see you.”
“Yes. Well…” David moved the shade to look out the window. The afternoon sun highlighted a pinched brow.
“I wanted to send round a note; hell, I even considered stopping by, but that would have been beyond the pale, since you live under the same roof as Lady Prudence.” No response. So cold-blooded. No, not true. Randall knew firsthand, David was hot-blooded; he was just hiding his feelings. He pushed. “I’ve told you I do not like being left.”
David looked at him then. The light seeping around the window shades illuminated parted lips, head tilted just slightly, fists clenching and unclenching.
“You promised.”
David laughed, a rough sound with all the regret of a father watching his child suffer.
Randall wanted to cry.
“No. I did not promise. You made a suggestion, and I just…” He looked outside again.
“And you fucked me.”
“Yes.” Whispered sorrow wrapped around the confines of the carriage.
“It felt like a promise.”
David’s breath caught. He closed his eyes.
Randall took his hands, and David squeezed back.
“She is still in a tirade, you know?”
“No, I didn’t know.” He rubbed David’s knuckles with his thumb.
“We hurt her, you and I. And that is what I wanted to avoid.”
“I’m sorry for that. But, as you said, better to hurt her a little now while she can still find a good husband who will love her.”
David nodded.
“Come home with me.”
“How can I, when you were to be her husband and I ruined her happiness?”
Their joined hands looked perfect together. Strong, competent. This was right. This was meant to be. He would not let David ruin this because he was drowning in guilt. “I will make a list of suitable suitors who could make your sister happy. You could set up the introductions.”
David’s expression lightened some; his brows lifted, at least. That was something. “Come home with me.”
With one hand, he caressed David’s lightly stubbled cheek, hooking fingers behind his neck, and with the other he pulled the irresistible man into a kiss. A bittersweet kiss, loose, caressing, caring, all the gentler emotions the two of them had ever shared. A true sharing—devotion, not lust.
“Yes.” David’s whisper was almost swallowed by the noise of wheels on cobblestones, but Randall felt it all the way to his soul. He pulled David close, and then lust commanded the embrace.
* * * *
Oh God. This was what he’d needed for so long. The sweet, slightly salty taste of David’s body. The taste was as he remembered, briny. As if the sea had claimed him during his years in the navy and refused to let go of such a perfect creation.
Randall shoved aside blankets and kissed his lover, who was sprawled across the massive bed. The sea’s claim explained David’s taste, his smell, his command, his passion, and even his fear. Driven, all, by the power and forcefulness of the world’s oceans.
He licked lower, across a nearly hairless, firm chest, down a rippled abdomen, into the navel.
David laughed and pushed him away, which brought him closer to his original target, the prick that stood in proud salute to his ministrations.
He licked down to the crease of his lover’s thigh and inhaled deeply. The warm muskiness masked the sea’s influence here. Here, David’s body smelled like sex—pure and sinfully heady. His body reacted to the smell with primordial intensity. He almost came just from watching David’s cock bob and leak, listening to those quiet, polite whimpers which drove him mad with lust, and drinking in this masculine scent.
This was paradise.
When he licked the underside of the engorged cock, it flexed as if begging for more. He gave it. Taking the smooth shaft into his mouth, he sucked to the base, swallowing the tip in order to encase the whole glorious length.
David grabbed his hair and flexed.
He stopped breathing for a moment, or the engorged flesh would have gagged him. When David pulled away, he withdrew, grabbed a breath, and then sank down on the shaft again. Low moans guided his pacing. But there was more he wanted to show his lover tonight. He
wanted the man in so much pleasure, he wouldn’t be able to think straight for days. Sliding two fingers into his mouth along with the salty cock, he wet them thoroughly.
Then he found the tight hole he had laved, tickled, and fucked many times in their short stint as lovers. He would make sure their liaison lasted much longer this time around. David was too much a part of him to lose again. He needed this man more than he needed air.
With the help of his greedy lover’s push against the invasion, one finger slipped in.
He chuckled, but that made him gag, so he backed off and then slipped another finger inside that tight, warm smoothness. All the sensations were too much; he could no longer ignore his own need. Rubbing his staff against his lover’s leg, crisp hair, and firm muscles added needed friction.
When he curled his fingers up to that spot he knew would drive David home, the younger man came. The sharp taste of semen burst into his mouth with each erratic thrust. The quietness of his moans had probably been learned over the years from fear of being found out. But the sounds fed Randall’s own lust, and he burst into a world of shooting colors and lights and bliss.
An eternity later, David pulled him up until they lay side by side, naked and sweaty. “That was spectacular. Now, what may I do to…for you?” He nuzzled Randall’s neck.
“Not a thing. It was spectacular for me as well.” He looked down at his spent cock.
David laughed. “Well, that was thoughtful of me to make sure you were taken care of. Be happy to do it again anytime.”
“I’ll oblige myself of your offer. Often.” Their lips joined, and the taste of love mingled in their kiss. His heart beat a fast staccato, faster than while making love.
Making love. Yes, it had been, hadn’t it? Very much so.
He grinned into David’s solid shoulder. He could stay there in this man’s embrace forever, but it was getting decidedly cool in the room, and his thoughts bordered dangerous territory. Rising to retrieve the blankets, he clamped down on his giddiness. The blankets were scattered all about. After all, they had been rather energetic in their bed play.
He tripped on some discarded clothing and picked them up to avoid further such mishaps. A piece of paper fell from a pocket. The scrap was written in a neat hand, not his negligently sloppy scrawl; it was David’s penmanship. Listing the names of what looked like trading enterprises.
“They are shipping companies for sale. Small ones. Small enough I might be able to buy one, or buy a share in one.”
“But how can you afford this, and how will you run a company when you are off with the Royal Navy’s best?”
“I plan to use the small inheritance from my maternal grandmother and sell my commission. And never return to the Royal Navy’s bigoted arms. I value my neck too highly to risk getting hanged. Thought if I had a company to run, Father might not kill me for resigning.”
Selling out. Staying in London. The smile started in his toes. It grew bigger and more uncontrollable as it moved through his body. “You’re staying in London?”
“Yes, or a port town, depends on where the company is I purchase.”
Randall pounced, bouncing on the bed once before crashing onto David’s firm, startled body.
“What the—”
“You’re staying.” He kissed David. Fast and furious little kisses all across his cheeks, forehead, and neck. “You’re staying.” It came out breathless, awestruck.
His cock was hard again, so he rubbed it against David’s firming flesh.
“I’m thinking of staying, yes. But there are many things that have to be worked out first.”
He rubbed their pricks together and sighed. “You’re staying.”
Chapter Ten
September 1784
Prudence tapped her finger on the teahouse’s marble-mosaic tabletop. She’d lost patience with the conversation. Actually, she’d never formed any interest in the topic discussed, so there was nothing really to lose.
Her fingers picked up their pace. Come to think of it, she had shown little interest with anyone or anything for over a month now. Not since her plans had been assassinated.
Damn David for meddling. And now her parents were starting to worry. Asking her why Lord Blair did not come calling anymore. Soon, she would have to tell them the wedding was off. And then they would find someone wholly undesirable for her to wed. They would never agree to let her be a spinster. They could never understand why a young woman would fight a forced allegiance with a man who expected weekly, or worse—she shivered—nightly visits.
She sighed and tried, once again, to listen to Lady Middleton pontificate on whether an estate lost value if it produced sheep rather than barley. Really. She didn’t give a fig.
How was she to insure her happiness now? She drummed her fingers again.
“I say, my dear, are you well? I have never seen you so distracted.”
“Do forgive me, my lady. I am somewhat overset but will be fine once I have a cup of tea.”
Simpleton Middleton gave a milky smile.
These society matrons were so easy to mislead—a wonder England still functioned with their blood running through all the heirs and heirs apparent.
She guarded her tongue. This was not the company who would approve of a recitation on the need to educate and advance the unprivileged to help fortify England’s future.
Ignoring the conversational drone, she tried again to think of a way to trap Lord Blair into going through with the engagement. He’d ignored her letters, and there was no way she could visit him at his townhouse. That could ruin her reputation. Although…
Unfortunately, her brain was muddled, and she could come up with nothing else. She would just have to slip into his home after sunset. This whole affair kept her from sleeping anyway. What else could she do? She groaned.
“My dear. You do seem not at all in the pink; shall I call for more cakes?”
“No, I—” Across the street, a few stores down, she recognized a long, arrogant stride, loose-limbed and powerful. Lord Blair. All bright, wide, lovely, and full of life. Happy. That son of a bitch.
He walked a few steps, turned as if looking to find something, then smiled to melt the world.
The sight almost evaporated her anger. He had always had the most infectious, broad grin.
He waved at someone inside the shop to hurry.
David!
Bustling out with a small package under his arm, he caught up to his companion. Laughing. He was laughing?
Now that was decidedly odd. Why was her brother with a man he could not countenance? Where was he going? In fact, where had he been? She had seen very little of him the past three weeks, an absence that was glaringly obvious considering he knew the wedding was called off. Guilt? Fear of her ire? Her jaw dropped. Did Lord Blair just give David a hearty clap on his back? They were friends? But…?
Happiness, an incredible, wholly unexpected happiness gleamed in their faces.
Some glib comment must have slipped from Lord Blair’s clever lips, because her brother smiled. So rare to see. He never smiled, he rarely laughed, not since… Well, not since his incident, so long ago. And then Randall touched his arm. A brief, intimate touch. Much more than he had ever conveyed to her.
The two men headed north down the sidewalk. The farther away they went, the smaller they seemed, and the larger her anger grew.
Then, everything fell into place. The insomnia-induced fog melted away.
Well, I’ll be damned.
“I’ll be damned.” She threw her head back and laughed. Laughed as if the whole world were a comedy.
“I say, Lady Prudence. You are acting quite odd. Are you indeed well?”
Oh, how perfect. She laughed again, even though her companion grabbed her arms and told her to behave like a proper lady.
Oh, it was turning out to be a good day. A very good day indeed.
Chapter Eleven
Ensconced in the Soho townhouse study, David read over Randall’s shoulder.
“Wonderful. This is wonderful.”
“Didn’t I tell you Vincent was the man you needed?” Randall twisted to look back. “But for legal work only.” He winked. “I’m the man for you for everything else.”
David grinned. He couldn’t help but grin when he was with his lover. In fact, his face ached from smiling so often. “I can’t believe it. This one set of documents not only gets me out of the navy, but also bought out Captain Salisbury’s two sloops, trade agreements, and warehouse shares. The man is amazing.”
“Yes, he is a near-magician when it comes to putting deals together.”
“And with just my prize money earnings and my inheritance from Grandmother. I’ll admit things will be a bit tight for me until revenue starts coming in, but still, I cannot believe I didn’t have to beg Father for a loan.”
Randall touched his hand. “I would not have let you broach the matter with your father. I would have given you the blunt you needed.”
Their gazes locked, and David’s pulse stuttered. He was falling for this man. Oh, who was he kidding? He’d fallen for him five long, lonely years ago. He swallowed, trying to get control of his emotional state. He changed the subject. “I would never have gone back to the navy, no matter what I had to do. If I went back I would eventually hang.” He closed his eyes. “I came close, you realize? To hanging.”
Randall touched his thigh but said nothing.
“They killed good men. Competent sailors.”
He frowned but refused to go further down such a maudlin path while his golden lover sat there, pitying his worthless hide. “But I made it out alive.” He laughed, the sound a bit too giddy. He laughed again just for the way it relaxed him, erasing years of tension and fear.
Randall laughed too and pulled him by both thighs for a brief waist hug. It felt good. It felt new. It felt safe.
Yes, safe. He was safe. Now that he was out of the bigoted military, he could have a dalliance, spend time with Randall now and again if he was careful. Perhaps he and Randall could have an understanding. At least for a time. Until Randall grew tired of him and his caution.
His Second Chance Page 7