by March, Ava
Will was sucking him off.
Will had his mouth on Jack’s prick.
The storm raged around him, the wind shoving the rain into his back, his cravat beyond soaked, a sodden mess sticking to his neck. His hair couldn’t have been more wet if he’d just taken a dip in a pond. Cold raindrops rolled down his face, tickling his cheeks and dropping from his chin. And the most blissful heat and suction worked the length of his cock. Up and down. A quick flick of Will’s tongue under the sensitive crown. Will’s hands on his hips, grip strong and secure, holding Jack steady. Lust rushed through Jack’s veins, heating his skin, the climax building with startling intensity.
A groan shook Jack’s throat. Should he warn Will? Should he tug Will off—
Lightning flashed, giving Jack a brief glimpse of Will’s lips stretched around his cock, wet lashes pressed against his cheeks.
The orgasm burst across Jack’s senses. With a hoarse moan, he shot his seed down Will’s throat. And Will swallowed every drop, his tongue working against the underside of Jack’s cock, drawing out the climax until it was all Jack could do to remain on his feet.
Yet Jack wanted more. Wanted to drop to his knees. To suck Will’s cock. To suck Will’s cock until his seed was coating Jack’s tongue. Wanted to give himself over to Will. Wanted Will to push him up against the door, push Jack’s trousers down around his knees, and use him in that dark, dirty alley until he was sobbing with pleasure.
Lust flared. So sharp, so thick, it bit into his nerves.
And then mortification slammed into him.
Jack shifted back. Swatted Will’s hands away and tended to his own trousers himself.
Beneath the din of the rain, he heard the scrape of shoes against stone as Will got to his feet. There were those warm breaths against his jaw once again, the rhythm quicker, heavier than before. Hell, he could almost feel Will’s lips against his skin.
Why had Will done that? He’d never sucked him off before. Not once in all their years together. Never had done more than stroke Jack’s cock and rub against him in the middle of the night to come off. Never shown a hint of interest in turning their friendship into something more.
“Care to earn them?” That man’s offer to Will, from days ago, sounded in Jack’s head. “No puddles in the alley.”
A chill gripped Jack’s spine, clashing with the confusion and lust and shame already fraying his nerves.
Will sucked off men for one reason—money. Such an intimacy meant that little to him.
“How much?” Jack asked.
“Pardon?” The question brushed against his cheek, sending a luscious shiver over Jack’s skin.
Jack clenched his jaw. “How much do I owe you for that?”
For a long moment, only the sound of the rain hitting the street filled Jack’s ears.
Will shoved at his chest. Caught unaware, Jack stumbled back, stumbling off the stoop’s step and catching his balance before he landed on his arse.
“I might be the actual bastard, but you’re more of one than I’ll ever be.” Harsh and sharp, Will’s voice slammed into Jack more effectively than a swift uppercut.
Oh hell.
He still couldn’t make heads or tails of what had just happened between them. Couldn’t fathom why Will had done such a thing to him. But obviously Jack had grabbed on to the wrong explanation.
“I am sorry,” Jack said, throwing up his hands, the lust long gone, frustration firmly in its place. “I shouldn’t have said such a thing, but what was I supposed to expect?”
Even in the darkness, Jack could make out the way Will’s eyes narrowed in furious indignation. He stepped closer to Jack. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“You...” Jack lowered his voice. “You charge others for...that, and you’ve never done that to me before.”
Lips pressed in a hard, thin line, Will stared at him.
Jack breached the remaining distance between them and dipped his head, putting him on eye level with Will. “You have my apologies. I should not have made such an assumption.”
The winds had died down, the storm no longer a driving force to be reckoned with. Yet still, the rain fell in a steady unyielding pattern, soaking Will’s coat as the man held his gaze. Jack could still read the anger and indignation and hurt in his eyes, but it wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been a few moments ago.
“Will you come back to the hotel with me?” They were both beyond drenched and needed to dry off else they risk catching a chill. But more than anything, he wanted to get them off the street, where Will could so easily leave him in that alley.
A long moment. An exceedingly long moment, and Will nodded once.
Relief swept through Jack.
He remained close to Will’s side, his upper arm brushing Will’s shoulder, as they made their way back to the hotel. The corridors were just as deserted as they were a half hour ago, yet that tickle of anticipation in his belly was now a distant memory.
Pulling the key from his pocket, he saw to the door, then stepped aside to allow Will to precede him.
The lock clicked into place. Jack let out a long breath and turned from the door.
Candlelight flared, illuminating the room, as Will saw to the candle. Then the man hunched down before the hearth, and using the iron poker, prodded the flames back to life.
Standing at the door, Jack studied his profile. Will’s brow was furrowed, his mouth still pressed in a hard line. Jack did not know what to say. If he had damaged his friendship with Will, he would never forgive himself. Should he apologize again? Or should he follow Will’s lead from earlier, act as though nothing had occurred between them?
More to give himself something to do than anything, he pulled his greatcoat from his shoulders and hung it on the hook. Then set to work removing the mess that had become his cravat.
Will pushed to his feet and turned to Jack. “Do you prefer men?”
Will didn’t sling the question at him. Disdain didn’t soak his voice. Yet Jack’s spine went stiff, his cold fingers stilling over the sodden fabric at his neck.
There was no use evading the truth. In any case, Will had recently had the rock-hard proof in his mouth. If Jack tried to deny it, he’d brand himself the worst sort of liar.
He swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. “Yes,” he admitted, with a single nod.
“Why did you never tell me?”
Doing his best not to allow his gaze to dart about the room, Jack shrugged. “Wasn’t really certain until I was older. Then what was I to do? Wasn’t about to seek you out just to let you know I’d come to accept I prefer men.” In hindsight, a part of him had known years before, when he and Will had lived together. But then, he’d been too preoccupied telling himself he had not enjoyed their occasional nightly encounters overmuch. As if telling himself he wasn’t a sod would make it so.
Upstanding, honorable men did not go against the law and the church.
Even after he’d acknowledged to himself that he preferred men, even after he had tried indulging those urges, it had taken working for His Grace for Jack to realize preferences alone would not make one an immoral individual, no matter if those preferences could earn a man a trip to the hangman’s noose.
The knot of his cravat finally undone, Jack pulled the length from his neck. With a snap of his wrists, he shook most of the wrinkles from the fabric and hung it over his greatcoat to dry.
“Do you...” Jack cleared his throat. “Do you prefer men?”
“I should think that answer is rather obvious by now.”
God, he hated when he felt so dim-witted in front of Will. “No, it’s not.”
Will arched a brow. “I just sucked your cock, Jack.”
With a forcible mental shove, he pushed aside the flare of lust. “A preference is not necessary when one’s aim is solely to earn a few coins.” At the ire beginning to make its way across Will’s face, Jack rushed to clarify, “I’m not saying that was your aim for what you did in that alley, but you yourself hav
e admitted you accept those offers from men for the coins. When we were adolescents, there were others who did the same thing, and most were adamant they did such acts for the money alone. That they did not prefer men. And never once have you said anything to me to indicate your preferences leaned toward men. You’ve never mentioned another man who you’ve spent time with or engaged in anything with beyond...supplementing your savings.”
Will waved a hand, brushing off Jack’s justification for his assumption as insignificant. “To answer your question, yes, I prefer men. I sucked your cock because I wanted to.”
Somehow Jack kept the you did? from coming out of his mouth. “Oh. Well then, thank you. It was very...nice.”
“Nice, Jack?” Will’s lips quirked at the edges.
Hell, now Will was teasing him.
“Yes.” At a complete loss for what to do with himself, he gestured to Will’s coat. “You should get out of those wet clothes. Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” And without a shred of modesty, Will proceeded to strip every piece of clothing from his body, hanging each article over the backs of the two wooden chairs.
Jack crossed to the window, pulled aside the drapes, and checked the boardinghouse. Mr. Walsh’s window was still dark. And Jack remained at the window, his cock hardening with the knowledge a naked Will was not only steps behind him, but that Will also preferred men, had actually wanted to suck Jack off. Would Will allow him to repay the favor? Of course he would—what man didn’t enjoy having his cock sucked? But...what else did Will want from him? Did Will want anything else from him? And if so, would Will be like the others?
Just the possibility made Jack want to flinch.
At the distinct creaks of the ropes beneath the mattress, Jack released the drapes, letting them fall closed, and turned from the window. Safer to merely sleep with Will, to not test those waters.
But at least he needn’t worry anymore about what Will would think of him if he sported an erection in bed.
After dousing the candle, he removed most of his clothes and rubbed a towel over his wet hair. Clad in his shirt and smallclothes, he eased under the blanket. Pressed up close to Will’s back. Slung an arm over Will’s waist. And just before sleep overcame him, he allowed himself to press his lips to Will’s bare shoulder.
Chapter Seven
“My lodgings are on the next street over. Forgot to water the plants last I was there.” Not a complete lie. Will hadn’t watered the spinach yesterday, but it was more because the little plants hadn’t needed to be watered than because he’d forgotten. “Do you mind if we stop in while we’re out?”
He had managed to pry Jack from the window again. The deed hadn’t taken quite as much effort as last night. Nevertheless, not an easy task. He wasn’t certain if Jack’s reluctance had been tied to their misunderstanding—as Will had decided it was best to label it—that had occurred during their walk the prior night, or if Jack still had it stuck in his head he needed to remain on duty every waking moment.
Yesterday’s heavy clouds were gone, the dark sky clear enough to make out the stars. The light breeze held more than a bit of October’s chill, but all in all, a pleasant night.
Even if it had been raining, Will would have pushed Jack to go for a stroll as soon as Mr. Walsh’s window had gone dark.
Eager to be alone with Jack behind a closed door, Will hadn’t stopped at his room on his way from the coffee house to the hotel. He’d had just enough coins with him to purchase supper, and that was all that had mattered. Until he’d been alone with Jack for the space of about five minutes, both of them seated in their usual spots, starting in on the boiled pigeon. That had been about the moment when his lapse had smacked him upside the head.
When Jack didn’t immediately respond, Will added, “Won’t take long, then we can go straight back to the hotel.”
“All right,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t want your plants to perish of thirst.”
“How very considerate of you.”
“I try.” A hint of an amused smile touched Jack’s lips.
He could still feel the memory of Jack’s lips, soft and warm, on his shoulder. The light brush of a kiss that held the promise of so much more.
They came upon an alley, the space between two buildings consumed with shadows. It was all Will could do to keep from dragging Jack down that darkened alley. From pushing him up against the brick wall. From grabbing hold of Jack’s jaw and pulling those lips down to his. From finally discovering what it would be like to kiss Jack.
Yet Will kept his strides matched with Jack’s. Kept from quickening their ambling pace. They took a right at the crossroad then crossed the street. All the while, Will was acutely aware of Jack beside him. Of his large, powerful body. The steady rhythm of his stride. The way the light breeze carried the faint scents of hay and leather from Jack’s greatcoat.
Save for a window on the second floor, Will’s building was dark. Jack held the front door open for him, then followed Will up to the third floor. Once Jack was inside the room, Will shut the door and turned the lock. It took only a moment to light a candle.
As Jack hovered near the door, Will reached through the break in the drapes, took the clay pot from the windowsill, and then set the pot on the washstand.
“Did we arrive in time?” Jack asked, all mock seriousness.
Will chuckled. “Yes.” He poked a finger in the soil. A bit dry. The plants could use some water but not too much. Using the pitcher next to the washbasin, he saw to the task. Then he wiped his hands on a towel. “Let me grab a few coins before we leave, save me the stop tomorrow.”
One step to the right had him before the chest of drawers. Opening the top drawer, he reached toward the back corner and pulled a few coins from within a woolen sock. As he made to tuck the sock back in its corner, his fingers closed around a small glass vial.
“You keep your money in a drawer?”
“Not all of it.” He slipped the coins and the vial into his trouser pocket and closed the drawer.
“But why do you keep any of it there? Rather obvious hiding place.”
Will turned and leaned a hip against the chest of drawers. “That’s why. If someone wants to nick me, they’d look there first and hopefully find enough to make them stop looking.”
Based on the frown pulling Jack’s mouth, the explanation did not sit well with him. Jack glanced about the shabby little room. “I can understand wanting to save your money, to spend as little as possible, but the hotel doesn’t charge much. It’s not Mivart’s, but it’s closer to Cheapside than it is to Seven Dials.”
“I don’t live in the stews, Jack.” Close, but the boardinghouse wasn’t actually in the worst part of London. “There aren’t gin whores on every doorstep, or footpads swarming the streets.”
“But I don’t like the idea of you living here alone. Makes me worry.”
“What doesn’t make you worry?”
Jack shrugged, as if he truly could not think of something that did not cause him to worry.
“If it’s any consolation, I’ll take your fretful soul into consideration when I choose my next lodgings.”
“You’re leaving this building?” That idea certainly pleased Jack. Then a frown once again pulled his mouth. “Or are you leaving London soon?”
“That is my hope.” He needed to get back to the tables first, but he’d see to that once Jack completed his errand and returned to Hampshire. “But if I don’t have enough saved within a handful of weeks, I’ll search out new lodgings.” He never stayed in one building overlong. Purposefully kept his possessions to a small number, small enough to tuck into a couple of bags and take with him at a moment’s notice.
“Why?”
Because some men don’t appreciate it when I best them at the tables.
Rather than give Jack the stark, bare truth, he pushed from the chest of drawers. “You’re rather full of questions tonight.”
“I worry about you, Will
.”
“I’m well aware. You’ve already informed me of such.” He stopped before Jack. A chunk of Jack’s midnight black forelock hung over his brow, his mouth still touched by that worried frown. A frown Will wanted to erase. “Last night you said you prefer men. Do you prefer me?”
Jack’s dark gaze flickered down to Will’s mouth. He nodded once, a hint of a blush staining his cheeks.
And Will couldn’t hold back any longer.
He reached out, cupped Jack’s jaw.
The first press of Jack’s lips against his...
Will’s heart lurched against his ribs.
He stood very still, simply soaked up the sensations. Jack’s lips soft and warm. His breaths, with the slightest of hitches behind each one, fanning Will’s cheek. The touch of stubble from his day’s beard. Jack’s arms settling around his waist, holding him securely yet not pulling him closer. He could feel the tension in Jack, in himself. Feel the want fairly vibrating in the air around them.
A flick of his tongue against the seam of Jack’s lips was all it took. Jack opened for him, giving Will access to sweep his tongue inside Jack’s mouth.
A moan, low and thick with need, rumbled Jack’s chest. The sound went straight to Will’s cock.
Tangling his fingers in Jack’s hair, Will deepened the kiss. Pressed full up against Jack. And pulled another delicious moan from that broad chest.
The hell with waiting until they got back to the hotel.
He took a step back. Jack moved with him, the contact of their lips unbroken. Another step and then another. Until Will’s legs bumped the bed’s frame.
A heavy bolt of anticipation shot through him. Releasing his hold on Jack’s hair, he shoved the greatcoat off Jack’s shoulders. Wasn’t as if he’d never been in a bed—or even this bed—with Jack before. Wasn’t as if he’d never had his hands on Jack’s bare skin. But tonight—very soon if the strength of Jack’s kiss was any indication—he would actually be able to live out the dream he had once convinced himself would never come true.
All those nights he had woken up, his prick hard and aching, Jack’s sleeping breaths fanning his nape, the line between dream and wakefulness still blurred. The moment when he had realized that no, he’d not just had Jack beneath him. Had not just had Jack welcome him with open arms and beg Will for more. The disappointment, the harsh sting of reality, that had crashed down on him when he’d remembered they had not become so much more than the best of friends.