Sharp Love (Gambling on Love)

by March, Ava

  He now had a new appreciation for Jack’s dedication to his duties. The man’s endurance for dull monotony far exceeded Will’s. No wonder Jack had been willing to allow Will to keep him company.

  A glance behind him confirmed Jack was still where he’d left him—sprawled on his stomach, dark lashes pressed against his cheekbones, blanket pulled up with just the top line of his bare shoulders exposed, his back rising and falling with each rhythmic breath.

  Will’s sleeping mind had known he had a duty to attend to and he had awoken as the dawn was breaking across the sky. In order to minimize any noise that could wake Jack, he’d forgone a shave and simply dressed, picked up the small table to move it closer to the window, and taken up Jack’s spot.

  The glance out the window, through the small break in the drapes, had become an ingrained habit. He was about to pull his attention to the cards in his hand, when the front door of the boardinghouse opened.

  Clad in an olive green coat and a pale lime waistcoat that should have clashed but somehow didn’t, Mr. Walsh closed the door behind him. The mid-morning sun picked up the white-blond strands mixed in with his ginger hair, the sunlight seeming to caress his high cheekbones. While Will could appreciate the young man’s beauty, he much preferred Jack in his bed. Those massive muscles holding him close, a hard strong body beneath him. A hard strong body that could take the full force of a man’s thrusts. Lithe and slight had a tendency toward complaints.

  Stopping on the bottom step, Mr. Walsh looked toward the hotel. Setting the cards on the table, Will pushed to his feet and stepped from the chair. Still too early to wake Jack, yet he’d given Jack his word he would let him know if Mr. Walsh needed an escort.

  “Your charge is leaving the boardinghouse.”

  The rhythmic rise and fall of Jack’s back continued undisturbed.

  He had done as he’d promised. He’d informed Jack, albeit not very loudly. Wasn’t his fault if Jack hadn’t heard him. Will would simply stand in Jack’s place. He was a capable fellow, and it was mid-morning. No one was going to snatch Mr. Walsh from the street before luncheon. And once he’d deposited the young man back at his room, he could give Jack a very nice wake-up call.

  That idea held definite appeal.

  Reaching behind him, he grabbed his coat from the chair.

  But...

  Jack would eventually find out the truth and he’d have Will’s hide. More than that, Jack would see it as a betrayal of his trust.

  Will’s shoulders slumped.

  “Jack.” He crossed to the bed, laid a hand on Jack’s back. Hell, Jack was sleeping so soundly. It hurt, in a way, to have to wake him. But... He gave Jack a nudge. “Come on, Jack. You need to wake up. Mr. Walsh wants to go for a stroll.”

  Dark lashes swept up, revealing tired, sleep-logged eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Around mid-morning. I’ll go down and bid him to wait while you get dressed, all right?”

  Jack pushed up, dragged a hand over his face. “All right.”

  His plan to slip back into bed with a sleeping Jack was shot to all hell, but maybe he could entice Jack to join him in bed after the man returned from escort duty.

  A quick check to ensure the knot of his cravat was still centered, and he left the room. Goddamned duke. He pasted a smile on his lips, one he hoped would appear pleasant and non-threatening, and made his way across the street, winding around the carts and men on horseback.

  Mr. Walsh was glancing up the street, pocket watch in hand, when Will stopped before him. His initial assessment had been correct. Not a single freckle marred those high cheekbones or his straight nose.

  “Good morning, Mr. Walsh,” Will said, giving the young man a tip of the head. “I am Mr. William Drake. A friend of Mr. Morgan’s. Mr. Morgan will be down shortly.”

  Large green-gold eyes swept over Will’s face, assessing him. “A friend of Mr. Morgan’s?”

  The sound of his voice caught Will off guard. Not from the stews and not from Mayfair. The accent snagged on an old memory. From the country? Interesting.

  “Yes. A friend.”

  “Am I pulling him away from anything important?”

  “No. Not at all.” The lie flowed smoothly off Will’s tongue.

  “Mr. Morgan takes his duties quite seriously.”

  “Indeed he does. If you could but wait for him, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  He received a nod in return.

  Mr. Walsh slipped his watch back into his pocket. “I really don’t need an escort.”

  Definitely a tad temperamental. “This isn’t your first visit to this part of Town, is it?”

  “No, it’s not. But I agreed to an escort.”

  Even more interesting. “We all do things at times simply to appease another.”

  Those gorgeous eyes swept over his face once again, this time considering more than assessing.

  Will fought the urge to shift his weight.

  A hint of a smile touched Mr. Walsh’s lush mouth. “Yes, we do.”

  Will felt more than heard Jack walk up behind him. He moved aside, relinquishing his temporary charge.

  Hands clasped behind his back, Jack gave a neat half-bow. “My apologies for the delay, Mr. Walsh.”

  With a wave of his hand, Mr. Walsh brushed aside the apology. “There’s no need to apologize.”

  He tried to catch Jack’s eye before turning to go back to the hotel, but Jack’s attention was focused on his charge. Will could be invisible for all the notice Jack took of him.

  “Do you have need of a hackney?” Jack asked Mr. Walsh.

  He’s working, Will reminded himself, in an effort to ignore the twinge of hurt. He turned and made to step into the street.

  A murmured “Thank you” caught his ear.

  And Will smiled.

  Chapter Ten

  Jack slowly turned the key in an effort to dampen the snap as the lock slid home. The thin drapes were fully drawn, muting the late morning sun. Soft gray shadows clung to the corners of the room. The fire in the small hearth popped and crackled in a faint calming drone.

  Keeping his steps light and quiet so as not to disturb Will, Jack set the paper sack from the bakery on the table. As he’d deposited Mr. Walsh on the boardinghouse’s front step, the young man had mentioned he planned to remain at his room for the rest of the day. Jack hadn’t had an afternoon to do as he pleased, with no responsibilities to attend to, in he couldn’t remember how long. But it seemed as if today he would have such an afternoon.

  He pulled off his greatcoat and coat, draping both over the back of a chair.

  The ropes beneath the mattress creaked. Jack looked over his shoulder. Weight propped on an elbow and blanket bunched about his waist, Will met his gaze. His jaw was darkened from the stubble of his beard, his light brown hair tousled from sleep, eyes heavily lidded. Arousal sparked in Jack’s gut, coiled down to his groin.

  “I brought a loaf of bread and a few pastries for breakfast.”

  “I’d rather have you.”

  Jack’s breath caught. “Mr. Walsh indicated he was staying in for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Did he now?”

  Jack nodded.

  A thoroughly wicked smile curved Will’s lips. “Any idea of how you’d prefer to spend your afternoon?”

  Jack’s pulse picked up, fairly hammering through his veins. Lifting his chin, he tugged on the knot of his cravat. Unwound the length from his neck. Gaze locked with Will’s, he let the long length of linen fall to the floorboards. By the time he pushed down his trousers and smallclothes, his cock was stiff and hard, jutting from his body.

  Stepping over his clothes, he crossed to Will, bare as the day he was born. The urge to cover himself gone, vanished by the strength of the desire burning in Will’s blue eyes. The fire crackled, the golden light glinting off glass on the floor next to one of the bed’s wooden legs. He recognized the object. Will’s vial of oil.

  His heart stumbled for a brief moment, yet he
didn’t pause. Didn’t allow the worries to form. Will knew exactly what he wanted from Jack. It was absolutely no coincidence Jack had returned from his errand to find Will in bed. Naked. The drapes drawn, the candle not lit, the oil not hidden but placed within easy reach. Will’s single-minded purpose acted as a sort of balm, quieting the tingle of trepidation, allowing Jack to simply follow. To not over-think, to not worry, but to merely put himself in Will’s capable hands.

  With that wicked, confident smile on his lips, Will threw back the blanket. As Jack made to put a knee on the mattress, his gaze caught the glass vial again.

  Will always knew what he was about. Always had a plan spinning in that agile brain of his.

  “You really didn’t forget to water your plants, did you?”

  Grabbing hold of Jack’s waist, Will tugged him onto the bed. “No. Didn’t forget about that, but I had forgotten something else.”

  Pushing up onto his elbows to keep the full force of his weight off Will, Jack settled on top of Will. “Sneaky bastard.”

  Will chuckled. “Perhaps. Would you rather I have declared my intentions? Told you we needed to stop in at my room so I could grab some oil so I could fuck you properly?”

  Jack couldn’t hold back the grunt. When they were like this, bare skin pressed against bare skin, such indecent talk made his cock ache for a touch. Made him feel wanton and depraved yet thoroughly aroused. Made him want to beg Will to make good on his words. Made him want to bend over and offer his arse to Will. But the truth of it was, if Will had been so blunt at the time, it would have turned him into a mess of nerves and doubts.

  Maybe it wasn’t so much that Will was sneaky. More that he knew Jack just about as well as Jack knew himself.

  Will shifted, the head of his cock dragging across Jack’s lower belly, leaving a faint sticky path of moisture on Jack’s skin.

  Jack pressed his lips together. Should he just do it or should he ask?

  Fingers grabbed hold of his hair, pulled him down. Lips slanted over his. Jack eagerly opened, drank in Will’s kiss. Drank in the power, the confidence, of every stroke of Will’s tongue against his. All the while, Will moved beneath him, small little nudges of his hips, rubbing their bodies together, pushing Jack until he couldn’t hold back the words.

  Dropping his head, Jack closed his eyes. “I want to suck your cock,” he whispered against Will’s neck, finally giving voice to the desire that had consumed him on so many chaste nights with Will.

  “Then by all means, please do.”

  Hands settled on Jack’s shoulders, gave him a push toward his target, a push Jack jumped to heed. A push Jack wanted to heed with every inch of his soul. Will spread his legs even wider, offering up his cock to Jack’s more than eager mouth.

  Wrapping a hand around the base, Jack opened wide, took Will inside. The last trace, the last touch of uncertainty fell away, as Jack focused all of himself on pleasuring Will. Each moan, each whispered, “Yes, Jack, like that,” pushed him to suck harder, to intensify his efforts to pull yet another gravelly moan from Will.

  Fingers tangled in his hair, pushed him down further. And Jack let Will use him, let him fuck his mouth. Hips thrusting up, taking what they wanted, the head of Will’s cock bumping the back of Jack’s throat. Lust built sharply inside of him. Crouched on his elbows and knees, Jack couldn’t stop his back from arching. He wanted the cock sliding between his lips to push into his arse. To take him. Claim him. To slam into him until he was drained and begging for more.

  As if able to read his thoughts, Will tugged, pulling Jack from his length. Sprawled on the bed, cock glistening with moisture from Jack’s mouth, determined blue eyes locked with Jack’s, Will was the very image of confidence. Of control. “You want me to fuck you?”

  Poised on the verge of trembling from the need coursing through his veins, Jack couldn’t stop the words, the response past his lips before he could make an attempt to hold it back. “Yes, I want you to fuck me.” And he didn’t want to hold back anymore. He wanted to give. To give Will everything the man wanted from him.

  The hold on his hair turned gentle. A light caress of fingertips against his scalp. Jack dipped his head, pushed into that caress, wanting more.

  “On your back, Jack. Let me have you.”

  “Yes.”

  As Jack heeded the command, Will rolled onto his side to reach down to the floor. Instead of settling between Jack’s legs, Will dropped the small bottle next to Jack’s hip, leaned over him and dragged his mouth along Jack’s chest. Lips soft and light with the slightest hint of teeth. As those lips ventured toward a nipple, Jack arched. A hot mouth closed over the tip, teeth taunting his sensitive skin.

  Jack let out a moan as his ballocks lurched up. His arms ached to grab Will, to pull the man on top of him. Yet he held still, let Will do as he pleased. Let Will inflict all the delicious torment on him that he pleased.

  Moans turned into groans as Will grabbed Jack’s cock, fingers closing securely around the width, his mouth continuing to torment one nipple and then the other. Sure pumps of his fist, teasing flicks of his tongue. Oh goddamn hell. Beyond delicious torment.

  Jack’s lungs labored for air. The climax was so close he could almost feel it washing over him.

  And Will pulled up, pulled his mouth from Jack’s chest. Will’s hand coasted down, palmed Jack’s ballocks. Jack’s knees drew back on their own accord.

  “All of this for me?” Will shook his head, a tad bemused, as if the notion alone amazed him.

  “For you. If you’ll take it.”

  Will lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

  “No. An offer.”

  Teasing fingertips drifted down to circle his hole.

  Jack couldn’t stop the shudder of lust that gripped his entire body.

  “Gorgeous,” Will murmured.

  And in that moment, Jack didn’t feel like an over-large oddity among men. He actually felt gorgeous. As if he was everything Will wanted.

  Shifting between Jack’s knees, Will grabbed the oil, slicked his cock. “And your offer?” Will pushed an oiled digit into Jack’s arse. “I’m definitely taking it.”

  Jack nodded. He clutched the sheet covering the mattress, let the moans tumble unchecked from his lips as Will prepared him. One digit became two, sliding deep, teasing the perimeter. Working Jack into a state of pure, wanton desperation.

  “Please, Will. Please.”

  Those fingers pulled free. “Anything for you, Jack.”

  Blunt pressure pushed at his hole, stretching him, his body yielding to the invasion. Wanting to watch the pleasure take hold of Will, Jack kept his eyes from drifting closed against the onslaught of delicious sensation as Will slid inside him.

  Will’s jaw was clenched. Sweat glistened on his temples. His blue eyes darkened almost to the color of midnight. Buried to the hilt, he dropped down to his elbows. Captured Jack’s mouth as his hips began to thrust. Sure, even thrusts with a touch of gentleness behind each stroke.

  But he didn’t want gentleness. He wanted Will to take him.

  Releasing his hold on the mattress, Jack wrapped his arms around Will. Bumped up into the next stroke, urging him for more.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Will whispered against his lips. “Hell, you feel perfect.” He reared up onto his knees, pressed on the backs of Jack’s thighs, pushing them back further. Drew back then snapped his hips forward.

  Pleasure radiated across Jack’s senses. A groan echoed in his ears, low and hoarse and utterly guttural, and damnation if it hadn’t come from him.

  “Goddamned gorgeous.”

  The muted daylight from the window behind Will outlined his strong, lean body as he pounded into Jack. Hard. Relentless. Pure determination. And it was exactly what Jack wanted. That rough edge. Luscious and sharp. He stretched his arms over his head, palms pressed against the wall, and gave himself up to Will.

  The old bed creaked, its joints protesting, threatening to
give. Jack didn’t give a damn if the thing broke into a thousand pieces, as long as Will didn’t stop.

  But an orgasm was winding tighter and tighter inside him, drawing his muscles taut, demanding he give it its due. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching down, from grabbing his prick. From pulling that tantalizing promise of an orgasm ever closer.

  “That’s it, Jack. Stroke your cock. Come off for me.”

  Jack threw back his head and let out a shout as white-hot pleasure burst through him. Seed splattered his belly, his chest. As the climax was still racking his senses, Will slammed hard into him and liquid warmth filled his passage.

  Will dropped down onto his elbows, almost but not quite collapsing on top of him. “Hell, Jack.” His skin was slicked from sweat, chest heaving, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

  Blue eyes met Jack’s. Will was so close but one little nudge up would have Jack’s lips brushing across Will’s. Yet he couldn’t move. The absolute contentment, the haze of bliss, the depth of need in Will’s blue eyes...

  Jack swore his heart skipped a beat.

  Will bowed his head, breaking the spell, breaking the moment. Dragging his tongue across Jack’s chest, Will lapped up the seed splattered on his skin, shocking Jack to the present.

  “Do you like doing that?” Jack asked.

  “Wouldn’t if I didn’t.” Another decadent drag of Will’s tongue across Jack’s chest.

  Jack swallowed hard. “I do, too.” Or rather, he wanted to. He hadn’t actually done it before, but damnation, did he want to with Will.

  Will paused. Through the light brown forelock hanging over his eyes he caught Jack’s gaze. “Do you now?” His lips curved up, wicked and delighted. “But another afternoon. We need more sustenance than that at the moment. Didn’t you mention pastries earlier?”

  Jack nudged his chin toward the paper sack. “And bread. On the table.”