by March, Ava
“Yes. Quite.”
Will rested the iron poker against the brick surround and crossed to the table. He turned the chair around and sat. “Do you plan to hover near the door all night?”
“No.” Jack pushed from the door and sat in his armchair before the window. A quick glance, one more out of habit than anything, confirmed Mr. Walsh’s room was still dark.
Jack stopped his foot from tapping before it could begin. He shifted in the chair, acutely aware he was only clad in his trousers and shirt. The rest of his clothes, even his smallclothes, were likely exactly where he’d left them—on the floor of Will’s room. It was late enough that they both should go to bed and get some rest, but Will hadn’t made a move to remove his coat or cravat. He just sat there, the touch of compassion in his gaze unsettling Jack. Or rather, unsettling him further.
Will’s mouth briefly thinned, his brows lowering.
Jack’s muscles drew tight.
“Was I your first, Jack?”
“No. I wasn’t some untried virgin.” Though he’d certainly behaved liked one.
“There’s no reason to get offended,” Will said, in a casual tone that made Jack realize how defensive he had sounded. “I think it’s a valid question given our evening. You haven’t been with many other men then, have you?”
“If you’re asking if I’ve bent over for half of London, the answer is no.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Will didn’t appear annoyed or put-out. There hadn’t been a trace of a sharp retort. He appeared more interested in Jack’s answer. Concerned and interested.
And Jack knew he’d given Will plenty of reasons to ask such questions.
Still, it didn’t make answering him any easier.
Jack had to fight to keep from shifting again. “No, I haven’t been with very many men.”
“Any particular reason?”
His pulse picked up. “The village near the duke’s estate is small. There aren’t any others like us.” The truth—at least as far as he was aware—but also an excuse if ever he heard one. Wasn’t as if he had never left Arrington Park.
“He prefers men,” Will said.
Jack didn’t need to ask to know exactly which he Will referred to. “And he’s my employer.”
“So there’s never been any interest there?”
On Jack’s part or on the duke’s? Knowing Will, the man had intended the question to encompass both. “His Grace is an honorable gentleman. He would never express such an interest toward one in his employ. And as I’ve said, he is my employer.”
“And therefore you would never express such an interest in him?”
“Correct.” He had thought about it, but those thoughts hadn’t lasted long before Jack had promptly squashed them. His Grace was a handsome, virile man, only three years younger than Jack, and he had an air of command that practically radiated from him. Perfectly understandable for Jack’s eye to have wandered in that direction. But perfectly unacceptable for it to have stayed there.
“When was the last time you were with another?”
“Over six years ago.” A jagged shudder skipped down his spine. Unable to hold Will’s gaze a second longer, Jack looked out the window, checked the boardinghouse. All was still dark. “It’s late. We should head to bed. I need to rise early, escort Mr. Walsh to the tailor’s shop.”
“Why did you get so upset with me tonight?”
Jack snapped his attention back to Will, defensive instincts rushing full to the forefront. “Because I don’t like being humiliated,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“That wasn’t my intention, Jack. Not at all. I was just teasing. Nothing more.”
“How would you feel if I said such a thing to you?”
“I’d tell you ‘Hell, yes. Now fuck me hard.’ I wouldn’t deny it and I wouldn’t get upset. If anything, talk like that excites me. I like buggering men and I like being buggered. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leaning forward, Will rested his elbows on his knees. “You do understand that, don’t you, Jack? It’s all right to like to get fucked.”
“Maybe for someone like you, but not for someone like me. That’s not what others expect from a man of my size.” Men laid eyes on him and made the decision for him. And they didn’t react with calm understanding when they discovered Jack didn’t want to be the one in control.
“You want me to fuck you?” A harsh bark of laughter echoed in his head. “Then bend over and beg me to stick my cock in your arse. Come on, you big molly. Beg me.”
And Jack had bent over and begged. Hands braced against the cold brick wall, trousers around his knees, he had begged. The acrid taste of abject humiliation thick on his tongue. The image of the man’s mocking sneer burned into Jack’s mind. Yet his cock had hung hard and heavy between his legs. The climax slamming through him within minutes. And Jack had scurried from that alley, fumbling with the buttons on his trousers, his arse aching from the rough fuck, his cock still hard and wanting more.
It was all Jack could do to keep the cringe from revealing itself to Will.
Contemplative blue eyes swept over his face.
“So you’ve slammed a few others against a wall?”
“No.” That had been the worst of it. Knowing he should have objected, knowing he should not have invited another to treat him that way, yet too desperate to be with another man to even say one word in protest.
Well, that actually hadn’t been the worst. The absolute worst had been being unable to stop himself from going back for more. Three more times, he’d gone into that gambling hell, caught a man’s eye, followed him into that alley. Three more times, he’d allowed another to mock and humiliate him. None had been quite as cruel as the first, yet still, they had all been the same. And there would have been more if an altercation along the walkway one night hadn’t diverted his attention. By the morning, he had become an employee of the Duke of Pelham. A groom at the Mayfair town house’s stables. Within a month, His Grace had inherited the title from his father and Jack had been promoted to driver and reassigned to the Hampshire estate.
“Then why me?”
Jack shrugged. “I was surprised, and not in a good way. I over-reacted.” That was putting it mildly. Men he never had to face again were one thing. But to have Will humiliate him? That had hurt. A lot. “Can we be done with the questions now? It truly is getting late.”
Will shook his head. “Close, but not yet. Do you want to be with me again? Not tonight necessarily, but again. Or should I take a step back and stay back? I don’t want to push you if you’ve decided that’s not what you want from me.”
Jack dropped his gaze, stared at Will’s shoes, the brown leather scuffed and worn from years of use. The last six years had been beyond lonely, but at least he’d been able to look himself in a mirror and not feel like the most pathetic of men. But... It was Will, and Will had apologized. If he could trust anyone, he could trust Will to hold true to his word. And he could not deny the prospect of being with Will again held a hell of a lot of appeal.
There was still a risk though, a rather considerable one at that. And that risk was the reason beneath everything for why he’d chosen to be alone and why he’d remain alone till the end of his days.
Just the prospect of enduring that hurt, that level of pain again...
Twenty years had passed, and the memory had yet to dim.
The risk was unavoidable.
Or was it?
Will wasn’t asking for them to be together, like the duke and Mr. Walsh had been together. Maybe there wasn’t a risk. Maybe Jack just needed to keep their time at the hotel in perspective. He could do that. Once his errand was completed, he would need to return to the country. He knew that, and Will knew that. And he wouldn’t lose Will’s friendship when they parted ways, as Will had agreed to send Jack a note with his new address when he left London and purchased a property.
Even though Jack had convinced himself he did truly want to agree, it took effort to ge
t the words out. “Yes, I want to be with you again.”
“Can you look at me and say that?”
A sigh deflated his chest, the air shuddering on the exhale. A shudder Jack hoped Will hadn’t heard. He lifted his gaze, met Will’s eyes. “Yes, I want to be with you again.”
“Brilliant.” Will stood, a grin on his lips. “Now we should get to bed. It’s rather late, after all.” His hands moved to the buttons on his coat, then he paused. “And just so we fully understand each other, I liked having you beneath me. I liked it a lot.”
A tremor of pure lust racked Jack’s spine. “Oh.” He swallowed hard. “All right.”
Will arched a brow.
Jack lifted a shoulder. Somehow he kept his gaze from skittering about the room. He was definitely unaccustomed to dealing with someone who spoke so openly about such topics. Someone who could casually discuss what two men could do together without so much as a blush. While a part of him wanted to jerk back, another part found relief in such blunt talk. Will understood. Will didn’t think him an oddity. And that felt good. “I liked being with you, too. It was...”
“Very nice?”
Hell, Will was teasing him. Yet rather than bristle with affront, Jack could now see that Will was simply being Will. Poking fun at him on occasion with no harm intended.
“More than very nice.” Much, much more. There had been a moment there, when the two of them had been together on the bed, Will’s body pressing him into the mattress, Will’s mouth on his, when he hadn’t worried. When that instinctive need to brace himself for what could come next had slipped away. When he had been fully and completely consumed with lust and Will.
It had been a heady feeling indeed.
“Very good to hear. Perhaps one day soon we can finish what we started. But not tonight. Tonight we need to get some rest.”
And Will proceeded to undress.
* * *
Will draped his coat, cravat and waistcoat over the back of the chair. Then he took off his trousers. All the while, Jack fiddled with the drapes. Closed them completely. Adjusted the edges so they hung neatly together, not one gap between them. Gave the hem a tug.
He could pretend he didn’t notice. Could finish undressing and slip under the blanket, give Jack his back, as he’d done on every other night. But...no. He had to guard against being too cautious, too careful. He didn’t have weeks or months to coax Jack to become more comfortable with his desires. In any case, he had the distinct impression Jack wouldn’t appreciate excessive coddling.
“You can look, Jack.”
Jack gave a start. He dropped his hands from the thin fabric, his shoulders slumping. “Am I that obvious?”
“Yes.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “I rather like it.” Jack, his bashful giant. “But I’d like it more if you’d let yourself look.”
With his upper body still angled toward the window, Jack’s gaze found Will from the corner of his eye. A pause. Then he turned his shoulders fully toward Will.
A blush stained the tips of Jack’s ears. Yet the heat in his gaze, the desire blazing in those dark depths...
Will’s semi-erect cock grew harder, lifting from his body.
Jack’s mouth fell open, his lips parting in a silent invitation.
To have Jack’s mouth around his length, to push his cock between those soft lips...
Tamping down the moan before it could shake his throat, Will crossed to the bed. He heard the faint creak of the old armchair’s wooden joints. Could feel the force of Jack’s stare sweeping down his back, settling on his arse. Leaning down a tad, Will tugged the blanket back.
A groan, low and faint, as if Jack was trying to mask it, reached Will’s ears.
Had Jack ever buggered a man? Was that something he wanted? Or did he only wish to be on the receiving end? It was beyond clear that Jack preferred to take a more passive role, preferred to submit to another. Back in his room, Jack had completely given himself up to Will. But that didn’t necessarily mean Jack had no interest in fucking him. A man could submit and still be on top of another. It was all in how Will handled the situation. And whatever Jack wanted, whatever Jack needed, Will was more than happy to indulge him.
Just the thought of having that thick, long cock stretching him wide open, stuffing him beyond full...
Will’s toes curled against the cold floorboards.
Definitely a question for another night.
He lay down on the bed and shifted to the side of the mattress. Left the blanket drawn back, an invitation for Jack to join him. Instead of turning toward the wall, he turned onto his other side and looked to Jack, who still sat in the armchair, shoulders turned toward Will. At least he hadn’t gone back to adjusting the drapes.
“I hope you don’t plan to sleep in that chair. It’s cold in the bed without you.”
Jack pushed to his feet. “We wouldn’t want that.”
“No, indeed. I could catch a chill.”
Jack let out a noise, a cross between a harrumph and a chuckle. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “A blanket can do wonders in that regard.”
“I much prefer you.”
That hint of a smile turned into an actual one.
Jack went to the chest of drawers and extinguished the candle Will had lit upon entering the room. The fire in the hearth still burned brightly, casting a soft golden glow that chased away the dense shadows of night. With his back to Will, Jack unbuttoned the placket of his trousers. Will swore he could hear the faint swoosh of each button being freed from its mooring. Jack went still for a long moment, then he pushed his trousers down. The long, wrinkled tail of his shirt covered his arse.
There was the sound of wood sliding against wood as Jack opened the top drawer.
Will knew exactly what Jack was after. “Can we do without the smallclothes?”
A pause. Jack slid the drawer shut. He turned toward Will. Took a step forward, leaving his trousers in a heap on the floor.
“How about the shirt as well?”
Another pause.
He could almost see the battle inside Jack. Could see his chest working quicker beneath the thin linen shirt, the tail of which hung down low enough to cover his groin. For Jack to bare all in the heat of the moment was one thing. But to do so while lust wasn’t pounding through his veins?
If Jack believed his size clashed with his desires, then Will could well understand how Jack wouldn’t be comfortable in his own skin. But that didn’t mean Will was going to allow him to remain uncomfortable. Jack’s body was truly amazing. All solid bone and massive muscles. A gift Jack should be proud of, not something he should feel the need to hide.
Another sigh. Another slump of Jack’s shoulders. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?” he asked, a quiet rumble that rolled through the room. Tugged at Will’s heart.
“I wouldn’t classify it as ridiculous. You have a gorgeous body, Jack. I happen to be quite fond of it. But if you’d prefer to leave the shirt on, it’s all right. Just come to bed.”
A nod. Jack crossed the remaining distance to the bed. But before he joined Will, he reached behind his nape, pulled the shirt over his head. White linen fluttered to the floorboards.
The flicker of light and shadows from the fire in the hearth played over every inch of Jack’s gorgeous body.
But only for a brief moment. Then Jack slipped into bed, tugging the blanket up to cover them both.
Warm bare skin pressed against Will’s, heating him quicker than any blanket could. And he finally did what he had longed to do on so many nights. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and kissed him. Just a kiss, nothing more. But having the freedom to kiss Jack whenever he wanted...
Will pulled back, broke the kiss, before lust prodded him to push for more. Jack hadn’t given him a lot of specifics, but he’d said more than enough for Will to fill in the blanks. Jack had first been with a man sometime while he’d been working at Gillworth’s livery, which wasn’t all that far from Will’s room. Men in hi
s part of Town were a rough lot. Too blunt and crude for his modest giant. So blunt and crude the experience had pushed Jack to choose celibacy for the past six years.
His heart ached for Jack. He’d had enough hasty romps with his fellow inhabitants of the East Side in dirty alleys and amidst the crates and rubbish behind taverns to have a fair idea of what Jack had been subjected to. Yet he didn’t broach the topic again, didn’t ask for any names. He’d nudged Jack enough for one night. The man deserved some rest.
But if anyone dared to hurt Jack again...God help them.
“Tomorrow, while you’re at the coffee house, I’ll pick up the clothes you left at my rooms.” He’d seen Jack wear two coats while in his current capacity as guard dog, both drab brown though one darker than the other. That top drawer held more than the smallclothes Will had laundered that morning, so he wasn’t worried Jack would be without on the morrow.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Jack.”
He made to turn onto his stomach, to take his usual spot facing the wall, but strong arms stopped him. A rearrangement of long limbs, a shift on the mattress, and Jack rolled onto his back, pulling Will against his side. Will certainly wasn’t about to object to the change. With a smile on his lips, he rested his head on Jack’s shoulder and let sleep overtake him.
Chapter Nine
Will downed the last of his ale and set the empty tankard on the well-used table, its surface sticky from old spills the serving girls had ignored. The string of tension he’d felt in Jack since he had met him at the coffee house that afternoon had finally disappeared. What exactly had caused that tension, Will hadn’t been certain, but a part of him had told him not to forge onward just yet. So Will had listened to his instincts. Pushing Jack to leave the hotel, leave the room, after they finished supper and go for a walk hadn’t been enough to dull that restless edge. So he’d proposed a stop at a tavern. Grabbing a pint seemed to have done the trick.
Could have been the ale, though given Jack’s size, Will highly doubted the two pints had had any effect on him. More than likely, it had been the break in their usual routine. Being surrounded by others, no possibility for more, the drone of voices around them coupled with the predictability of a tavern.