‘Hush. I understand. Just don’t stop doing what you’re doing.’
‘You neither.’
Pressure built quickly in Thomas’ balls. He’d known it before, alone in his room with his imagination, but this was more intense. Where it had been a dream, it was now real. Where he had imagined Archer, he had James; a man who appeared from nowhere to turn Thomas’ life on its head with the wonder in his eyes, his honesty and his acceptance. They kissed and stroked more urgently, driving each other closer to orgasm.
‘I shall never get enough of you,’ Thomas gasped. ‘I was stupid to doubt you.’
‘Hey, shush, it’s okay.’
‘I’m sorry, Jimmy.’
‘I’m going to…’ James gasped. ‘Tom, fuck it. You’re making me…’ He panted hard. ‘Don’t stop.’
His back arched as Thomas quickened his stroke, and when James did the same, Thomas moaned loudly. His head thumped. He was unable to hold back. Every part of him glowed, but not just from the pleasure below. That was where it gathered, but it started from the touch of James’ skin, the scent of his hair, the feel of his firm body.
They belonged to each other, they always had, and the joy erupting through him told him this was always meant to happen. They were meant to be.
‘It’s coming,’ he whimpered helplessly. ‘Jimmy, I’m going to… I love you.’
Their mouths clashed, their moans of pleasure mingled in their throats, and they bucked and grappled until James’ back arched and he spurted hot jets onto Thomas’ flesh.
Thomas buried his head in James’ shoulder to muffle his cries as he stuttered and gasped, unloading himself uncontrollably.
Gasping staccato exclamations of pleasure, they slowed their damp and sticky fingers, twitching and fighting for breath until their hands came to a natural halt. Neither let go, and for several glorious minutes, they lay joined as one in happiness.
Every muscle in Thomas’ body, until then taut with anxious excitement, relaxed. He had never known such freedom, such understanding of himself, nothing had made this much sense in his life.
Still holding James’ stiff shaft, he faced him, drinking in the sight of his hazel eyes, dewy and wide. He was biting his bottom lip as if he had done something wrong, but knew he was not to be punished. It was adorable. They held each other, kissing now and then, and explored each other’s eyes, trying to read what lay behind. Nervous smiles spread into broad grins as they realised there was no need to ask.
‘You know,’ James finally said, ‘there’s other stuff we can do.’
‘One step at a time.’
‘Ha! The old Payne motto, eh?’ He laughed briefly, before falling serious. ‘There will be more times, won’t there?’
‘If you’ll have me.’
‘Was rather hoping you’d have me,’ James replied with a leer. ‘You know, back door delivery? Always wondered what that fuss was about.’
‘Then,’ Thomas said. ‘If you will have me, we can explore together. Plenty of time.’
James pulled away drawing down his face in an expression of surprise. ‘Are you asking me out, Mr Payne?’ he smirked.
‘Mr Wright.’ Thomas returned the humour. ‘I would be honoured to call you my man if you will acquiesce.’
‘Gawd, you can sound pompous.’ James snuggled closer. ‘I love it. And yes, I would be honoured to acquiesce, as long as you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Oh, inexperience, fumbling, getting things wrong.’
‘I don’t see that,’ Thomas said, ‘I see bravery and heart, intelligence and loyalty. That’s what you are, Jimmy, but whatever else you come with, I want it all.’
‘You’ve got it.’
They kissed with sore lips.
Exhausted, Thomas felt the pull of sleep behind his eyes. ‘We mustn’t doze,’ he said. ‘The others will soon be back.’
‘I reckon the viscount knows what’s going on.’
‘I don’t have another clean shirt.’
‘Don’t fuss.’
‘I shall smell of semen all day.’
‘And I’ll smell of you. Couldn’t be happier,’ James sighed. ‘But you’re right.’
Reluctantly and with a final lingering smooch, they rolled from the bed to wash and tidy themselves. Despite breaking off their tasks to grin at each other like adolescents and embrace at irregular intervals as the moment took them, they packed and were ready to leave, flushed and ecstatic when Archer and Silas returned.
They caught the omnibus from the village to Haverpool and made directly for the Station Hotel where the viscount procured them a suite while the concierge arranged tickets for the night train. Archer gave each man money to replace lost clothes, and they spent the afternoon in hat shops and tailors where Fecker bought a new greatcoat, smarter and better-fitting than the one before. James bought a canvas Duster coat with a wide collar and turned back cuffs in the new American style, and Thomas found himself an Inverness with a shoulder cape that James said made him look like a highwayman.
‘Is there no end to Archer’s generosity?’ he asked as they left the shop.
‘If there is, I’ve not found it yet,’ Thomas replied.
‘Should I pay him back? Or will he take it from my wages?’
‘You could ask him, Jimmy,’ Thomas smiled. ‘But he’d only tell you not to be ridiculous.’
Dusk was approaching when they met in the hotel tearoom looking, to anyone who cared to notice, like any other party of travellers. What the public couldn’t see were the bruises and scrapes beneath the clothing, nor could they detect the intensity of friendship that now bound the five together.
They spoke quietly of Quill, each man reliving what he saw in the final moments when the train hit the river. There was no conclusive evidence that Quill had died. Although Archer had seen him tumbling backwards into the flames, no-one had seen him since either alive or dead.
‘The telegram has been dispatched to the sanitorium,’ Archer said. ‘I am watching the newspapers for reports of fatalities.’
‘I don’t reckon he’ll come after you again, Archie,’ Silas said, swigging tea.
‘Hold it by the handle and sip,’ Thomas tutted, slapping his knee. Silas grinned in reply and ignored him.
‘We will have to wait and see,’ Archer said. He was already reading the local evening news, and the crash dominated the front page. ‘I did feel guilty that the signalmen might get the blame,’ he said. ‘But it says here that the driver and fireman were found with their throats cut and robbery is suspected, though who would want to rob a coal train isn’t yet a question this journalist has thought to pose.’
‘Poor sods.’ Silas glanced at the paper. ‘What does that make Quill’s total? Eight, nine?’
‘That we know of.’ Archer turned a page. ‘Ah, the men are exonerated due to the signal box door being smashed. “Clearly a case of robbery or vandalism by persons unknown”, it says. If only they knew.’ He looked at Silas accusingly, and his lover shrugged. Putting the newspaper aside, he turned to James. ‘Everything good with you?’ he asked.
‘Good?’ James smirked at Thomas. ‘You could say that, Sir. I’d say better than.’
‘Then I think I should be grateful to old Tripp for sending you to us,’ the viscount said.
James’ face clouded. ‘Hm.’ He put down his cake. ‘Tripp.’
‘Take no notice of him,’ Archer said. ‘If he seeks you out, it won’t be at the house. At the pub maybe, but if he gives you any more trouble, just inform Thomas or me.’
‘Very good, Sir.’
‘I’m still Archer until we get home. Does that confuse you?’
‘No.’ James shook his head. ‘I’ve got it sorted, no worries there. Arche
r…?’ He was momentarily distracted by Fecker loading a scone with three layers of jam and cream. He waited until the Ukrainian had fitted the whole thing in his mouth before continuing. ‘Sorry, Archer,’ he continued. ‘I wanted to be sure that you understand I only went along with Tripp’s plot as a way of getting closer to Tom.’
‘Were you prepared to see it through?’ Archer asked. He had bought himself a pipe and was filling the bowl with tobacco.
James remembered the first rule of Clearwater. ‘At first, yes. It was exciting, see? I mean, Tripp said he’d pay me, so that was a reason to prick up my ears. When he said that he suspected…’ He lowered his voice. ‘Homosexual acts took place in the house — his words, not mine — of course, my ears pricked up even more.’
‘You want prick?’ Fecker questioned through his mouthful causing Thomas to choke on his tea.
James blushed as he slapped Thomas on the back. ‘Well, not this minute.’
‘Well, when you do,’ Silas said. ‘Keep it down, yeah? Your room’s right above mine.’
‘He don’t want cock?’
‘No, Fecks, and definitely not yours, now shut up and stuff your face.’ Silas pushed the cake rack to his friend, and Fecker set about it with nonchalant gusto.
‘But I was telling the truth,’ James insisted. ‘I was prepared to give it a go, see if I got the job and then see what happened, but only for my benefit, not Tripp’s. There was no way I was going to betray Thomas, and there’s no way I would betray you, Archer. You have to believe me.’
‘I do,’ the viscount said. ‘But I am left with the uneasy feeling that Tripp will find some other way to carry out his intentions. Whatever they may be, I am sure they will be nothing compared to Quill. However, we must all be careful, gentlemen.’
‘Being in service is playing a role,’ James said. ‘Thomas told me that, and I get why. I’m just looking forward to being at home.’
‘To your mam and sister?’ Silas asked.
‘No, to my new home. Clearwater.’
‘The city is so dreary in winter,’ Archer sighed. ‘As soon as I have the East End charity up and running, and Her Ladyship has thrown her parties, I think I may spend some time at Larkspur.’
Thomas took a sharp intake of breath. ‘That will be interesting,’ he said.
‘You’ll do fine, Tom,’ Archer reassured. ‘Some of the staff will be loyal to Tripp, of course, they’ve grown up with him, but others will be happy to work under you. Besides, they won’t have a choice, and they can leave if they don’t like it. We live in changing times, as someone told me once. Our country has recently legislated against us. That’s one thing, but in our smaller world, Larkspur needs dragging from my father’s legacy, and part of that is the staff he left behind. Tripp for one, others at the estate are another, Tom. We will review the servants when we go to the country.’
‘What’s Larkspur like?’ Silas asked. ‘Will I have to be super-posh?’
‘You shall have to be very discreet,’ Thomas warned.
Archer agreed. ‘Clearwater is relaxed, because there are not so many servants,’ he explained. ‘But I have several at the country house, all are my father’s appointments, and there are none that I know or trust well enough to share a discussion such as this.’
‘I see,’ James said.
‘But that is all for the future.’ Puffing on his pipe, Archer looked at his pocket watch. ‘Not long to wait now. I, for one, am looking forward to a decent night’s sleep.’
Sleep didn’t come easily or quickly. Archer lay in his berth as the train rattled and pumped its way south, his mind mulling over the events of the past few days. He could make sense of Quill, but not of Tripp. Did the man mean to shame him by engineering a scandal? Archer had never given him a reason to suspect his homosexuality, apart, perhaps, from his occasionally foppish behaviour, but many men, married and single, behaved that way. He had never given him an excuse to seek retribution either. Tripp had been well paid, well looked after, and it was his own fault he was given his marching orders. He only had himself to blame, and Archer had sent him on his way with a fortune in silver. As soon as Tripp saw that James was no longer prepared to play his game, he would tire, count his blessings and vanish.
Archer lay with Silas pressed against his chest and listened to his breathing as he slept. The rhythm of the train numbed him as it steadied into monotonous motion, and drowsiness crept closer. His men were contented and safe. His life was settled, and the future he planned would see him and his friends living their lives their way, free from the machinations of Quill and the duplicity of Tripp. He had found Silas. Thomas, his dearest friend, had James, and together they could look forward to a life that was, finally, peaceful.
It was not to last.
Night after night Tripp had waited in the Crown and Anchor, the newspaper his cover, James Wright his intention.
The boy hadn’t shown since the night Tripp prepped him for his interview. The sodomite, Payne, no doubt had him in his clutches, perverting him in his appointment to fall in behind Clearwater and indoctrinating him towards his abhorrent ways.
That the boy, the catamite, had betrayed his loyalty and chosen his path, was obvious. What Tripp could do about it was less apparent until he turned the pages of The Times and read the headline.
“The Clearwater Foundation announces its intention to host a night of opera.”
He read more.
“Although no specific date has yet been set for the launch of Viscount Clearwater’s new charity, an announcement is expected soon. A gala has been announced and it promises to be an occasion of glamour.
The philanthropic, the great and good, the titled and landed are expected to come forward to show their support at a gala performance at the City Opera House sometime in early December. Famed countertenor, Cadwell Roxton and international diva, Miss Cantanelli have been booked to appear at the star-studded gala which this publication will report with interest.
The Clearwater Foundation will also be in the spotlight, and the occasion could be ‘make or break’ for the viscount.”
Tripp folded the paper neatly and placed it on the adjacent chair.
‘Make or break,’ he whispered to himself. ‘If young Mr Wright refuses to return to me, I will simply engineer another way to ensure Clearwater’s... breakage.’
He cast his calculating eyes to the group of messenger boys at the next table and tuned into their conversation.
It took only a minute before an idea slithered into his mind, and his lips twisted into a devious grin.
Look out for ‘Unspeakable Acts’
The Clearwater Mysteries book three
If you have enjoyed this story, here is a list of my other novels to date. With them, I’ve put my own heat rating according to how sexually graphic they are. They are all romantic in some way apart from the short stories.
References to sex (*) A little sex (**) A couple of times (***) Quite a bit, actually (****) Cold shower required (*****)
Short erotic stories
In School & Out *****
13 erotic short stories, winner of the European Gay Porn Awards (best erotic fiction). Boarding schools and sex on a Greek island.
Older/younger MM romances
The Mentor of Wildhill Farm ****
Older writer mentors four young gay guys in more than just verbs and adjectives. Isolated setting. Teens coming out. Sex parties. And a twist.
The Mentor of Barrenmoor Ridge ***
It takes a brave man to climb a mountain, but it takes a braver lad to show him the way. Mountain rescue. Coming to terms with love, loss and sexuality.
The Mentor of Lonemarsh House ***
I love you enough to let you run, but too much to see you fall
Folk music. Hidden secrets. Family
acceptance.
The Mentor of Lostwood Hall ***
A man with a future he can’t accept and a lad with a past he can’t escape. A castle. A road accident. Youth and desire.
MM romance thrillers
Other People’s Dreams ***
Screenwriter seeks four gay youths to crew his yacht in the Greek islands. Certain strings attached.
Dreams come true. Coming of age. Youth friendships and love.
The Blake Inheritance **
Let us go then you and I to the place where the wild thyme grows
Family mystery. School crush. A treasure hunt romance.
The Stoker Connection ***
What if you could prove the greatest Gothic novel of all time was a true story? Literary conspiracy. Teen boy romance. First love. Mystery and adventure.
Curious Moonlight *
He’s back. He’s angry and I am fleeing for my life.
A haunted house. A mystery to solve. A slow-burn romance. Straight to gay.
The Clearwater Mysteries
Deviant Desire ***
A mashup of mystery, romance and adventure, Deviant Desire is set in an imaginary London of 1888. The first in an on-going series, it takes the theme of loyalty and friendship in a world where homosexuality is a crime. Secrets must be kept, lovers must be protected, and for Archer and Silas, it marks the start of their biggest adventure - love.
(Book one in the series)
Twisted Tracks (The Clearwater Mysteries Book 2) Page 30