Sharp Love (Gambling on Love)

by March, Ava

  “I’d do anything for you, Will,” Jack said, the low rumble of his voice wrapping around Will.

  “And I for you. I love you, Jack.”

  As Will stood there for what felt like an endless moment—though in actuality probably only a second or two passed—he expended every ounce of effort within himself to not allow the pain to seep into his heart. Jack didn’t need to love him in return. What mattered was that Jack knew he was loved.

  Jack opened his mouth.

  “Anything else hurt?” Will asked.

  A pause. “No.”

  “Then let’s wash that gin from your hair. Don’t want His Grace to think you’ve turned into a drunkard.” Turning, he went to the washstand. “And we should wash that cut as well.”

  As Will poured water into the basin, he took a moment to take a deep breath. The air stuttered on the exhale. He took another breath. No stutter. Good.

  After stoking the fire anew and grabbing a towel to drape across Jack’s shoulders, Will set to work. Jack didn’t object. Didn’t throw scowls at him. He continued to allow Will to fuss over him. Exhaustion was likely a big component of his complaisance, but Will had the feeling that on some level Jack understood the fussing was important to him. Tending to Jack lessened the guilt, calmed the worry, and provided a physical reassurance that Jack was indeed all right.

  Using a wet cloth, Will rinsed the soap from Jack’s hair. Then he used the towel to pat some of the water from the strands so drops no longer fell onto Jack’s shoulders. “I think I got all the gin out. A bath would do you better, but it doesn’t look as if a tub’s available.” He stepped around the chair and went back to the washstand. “Now stand. I want to take care of that cut.”

  “It’s just a—”

  “I don’t care if it’s just a nick.” Will dunked the cloth into the basin then rubbed it across the cake of soap. “I’ve cleaned your wounds in the past and they haven’t turned putrid. Therefore, this one’s getting cleaned as well.”

  Jack’s sigh filled the room.

  Wooden joints creaked.

  Satisfied Jack was complying, Will turned from the washstand.

  Jack’s head was tipped down slightly. Damp wavy strands framed eyes that were focused off toward the door. A blush touched Jack’s cheeks.

  Will couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling down the broad path of Jack’s bare chest, down his sculpted abdomen, and to the long arch tenting Jack’s white smallclothes.

  “You washed my hair. Never done that before.” Jack more mumbled than spoke. “It was nice.”

  “Looks like you found it more than nice, Jack.”

  “Perhaps.”

  It was tempting as all hell to tease Jack further, yet Will resisted. Now was not the time to have a spot of fun or to discover if Jack was even still willing to indulge with him. Jack was exhausted and literally battered.

  That thought dampened the tingle of lust that had begun to work its way into Will’s veins. Focusing on the task at hand—and not on Jack’s blatant erection—he stopped before Jack and touched the cloth to the line marring Jack’s waist.

  Jack hissed in a breath.

  Will jerked back his hand. “Hurt?”

  “Cold.”

  “Sorry about that. Didn’t see a pot to warm the water on the fire. Won’t take long. Think you can endure?”

  Jack threw him a scowl. “Of course.”

  As Will reached forward again, the muscles beneath Jack’s skin tensed, standing out in stark relief. “You needn’t brace yourself. It’s not that cold.”

  “Shall I do it to you?”

  Somehow Will stopped the crude comment from making its way past his lips. Keeping his gaze focused on that red line, he said instead, “Perhaps another night. May I continue?”

  “Please do.”

  And so Will continued. Once he’d soaped the wound, he dunked the cloth in the basin, wrung it out enough so it wasn’t drenched with water, and returned to finish the task. As he dabbed at the thin line, he squeezed the cloth, rinsing the soap from Jack’s skin. Water ran down from the small wound, over hard muscles and the curve of his pelvic bone, and wetting the waistband of Jack’s smallclothes.

  Before he could stop himself, Will’s hand squeezed again. Water ran over Jack’s skin again, soaking more of the fabric.

  The way the thin wet linen stuck to Jack’s pale skin, revealing the edge of the dark thatch of hair around Jack’s groin...

  Will forced his hand to his side before he could give in to the impulse to do it again. “Sorry about that. I seem to have got your drawers wet.”

  “How very unfortunate.”

  Was Jack serious or—

  “Can’t sleep in wet clothes. I’ll have to remove them.”

  Definitely teasing.

  Jack Morgan, stoic and serious and bashful, was teasing him.

  Would wonders never cease?

  With the blush now staining the tips of his ears, Jack shoved his smallclothes down his legs. His erection sprang free. By God, Jack had a gorgeous cock. Thick and long and hard, the head flushed with need. Will could practically feel the weight of that heavy beauty in his palm.

  “Think some soap might have got on you.” A complete lie, as the portion of fabric that had been stretched taut over Jack’s erection hadn’t been the least bit wet. But it couldn’t be more obvious that Jack wanted some attention from him, and exhausted or not, Will couldn’t deny him. “Should take care of that.”

  Flexing his hands at his sides, Jack nodded once. “Would be for the best.”

  Slow and methodically, Will wiped the cloth over Jack’s cock. Swiping up the underside. Paying due attention to the crown. Until the entire length glistened with moisture. Shifting his weight, Jack widened his stance. Will took the invitation and carefully washed Jack’s big ballocks, which had drawn up tight to his body. A low groan backed Jack’s every breath. His head was tipped down, shoulders relaxed, yet his hands were clenched in tight fists. Will could feel the heat, the want, pouring off Jack’s gloriously nude body, and it fed his own.

  Jack nudged his hips forward in a silent request.

  Dragging the cloth up and down Jack’s length, Will stepped closer. So close Jack’s chest brushed his with each heavy inhale. “Something you want, Jack?” He needed the words, needed to hear them from Jack.

  “Yes.” Desire blazed in Jack’s heavily lidded eyes. “Suck me?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” Dropping the cloth, Will fell to his knees. Took that beautiful cock into his mouth.

  A groan reverberated around him.

  One hand wrapped around the base, Will bobbed up and down Jack’s cock. Reveled in the smooth skin beneath his lips, the rock-hard rigidity of Jack’s length, the salty tang of Jack’s impending climax. He’d performed this act countless times, yet with Jack... With Jack it was not at all like those others. As different as night from day. He wanted Jack’s climax. Wanted it solely for Jack. Wanted to hear that harsh, almost strangled moan shake Jack’s chest. Wanted to experience that indefinable connection between them.

  Jack shifted, impatience and need drenching the movement. “Will.” He gasped for breath. “I-I... I want to suck you.”

  Will pulled back, let the fat crown slip from his lips. “Get on the bed. And lay on your right side.”

  As Will got to his feet, he pulled at the buttons of his coat. Quickly divested himself of his waistcoat, cravat and shirt. Tugging on the placket, he crossed to the chest of drawers to extinguish the candle. While he was quite fond of how candlelight played over Jack’s body, he had a strong suspicion neither of them would want to leave the bed once in it.

  Shoving his trousers down, he turned to the bed. The soft glow from the fire in the hearth just reached the bed, revealing Jack’s long nude form laid out on his side, head on the pillow.

  Will set a knee on the mattress. “Do you know what we are going to do?”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we.”

  Jack shook h
is head.

  “You can’t guess?”

  Even though Will’s body blocked the light, casting Jack’s face in shadows, he could feel the force of Jack’s gaze settle on Will’s erect cock.

  “You asked for it and it’s yours. But I’m not through with you yet. Scoot down.”

  The ropes beneath the mattress creaked as Jack did as bid.

  Will got onto the bed, reverse-mirroring Jack’s position and going straight for his target. “Reciprocal pleasure,” he said, allowing his breath to fan Jack’s rigid cock.

  “Oh.” Jack’s voice was soaked in eager wonder.

  And then words were replaced with low, muffled groans and the wet sounds of mouths working cocks. Will bumped his hips in rhythm to the decadent suction gripping his length. He lost himself in the pleasure of giving and simultaneously receiving. In stoking Jack’s need, in the need building swiftly within himself. He wanted to shove Jack onto his back, flip around and sink into Jack’s willing body. To join them together in the most intimate manner possible. Yet he knew with certainty what his bag did not contain. Tomorrow, though. He pulled back slightly and suckled Jack’s crown. In the morning, he would—

  But there would be no tomorrow for them.

  As the pain began to wrap around his heart, Jack sank lower and sucked hard. The pleasure was so intense Will’s eyes rolled back into his head. The orgasm rushed down his spine, and in a blazing surge of pleasure, seed shot from his cock down Jack’s eager throat.

  Jack’s hips thrust forward, pulling Will’s attention from the bliss washing his senses to the beyond-hard cock in his mouth. And with a soul-drenched moan, Jack climaxed, the salty tang of his release coating Will’s tongue.

  Gasping for breath, Will slumped onto his back. And grabbed hold of Jack’s thigh to keep from falling off the edge of the bed. The mattress shifted. Large hands gripped Will’s waist, pulling him up. Jack should be the exhausted one, yet Will couldn’t summon the effort to protest when Jack righted him on the bed, pulling him close to Jack’s heaving, sweat-slicked chest.

  “The blanket.” Will tried to lever up onto his forearm, but Jack’s strong arm held him close.

  “I’ll get it.”

  The warmth of Jack’s body briefly left him and then a wonderfully thick blanket was draped over them.

  “No lying on your back.”

  “I won’t.” The words rumbled from the solid wall of Jack’s chest. “That was more than nice.”

  “Most assuredly.”

  Jack settled him closer, their arms wrapped around each other, Will careful to avoid the left side of Jack’s ribcage. It was as if the climax had stolen every ounce of strength from Will. Even his limbs felt heavy. Perfectly understandable to be so boneless. The long, trying day had simply caught up to him, that was all.

  Within no time at all, the breaths brushing across the top of Will’s head turned rhythmic and deep, each backed by a barely audible snore.

  The day had caught up with both of them.

  Will pressed a light kiss to Jack’s skin, and seizing the opportunity again while it was his, he whispered, “Love you, Jack.”

  * * *

  Jack clasped and re-clasped his hands behind his back as His Grace passed his gaze over Jack’s face.

  “Have Mr. Drake pay me a call this morning. And please ask him not to dally. We are departing for Hampshire as soon as Mr. Walsh awakens and has breakfast.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. He will present himself within the half-hour.”

  The duke inclined his head, then turned his attention back to the letter on his desk.

  Jack turned and exited the study. His request of the duke held a definite risk—more than one, in fact—and there was no guarantee Will would agree, but he did not want to lose Will nor did he want to give up his position. He had been certain those two wants could not both be satisfied, but as dawn had risen and he had pushed the hay cart down the aisle, the horses nickering softly and moving about in their stalls, a possible solution had come to him. Hence his request—no, it had been more of a question—of the duke.

  He gave his head a shake as he walked out the back kitchen door to the alley. He still couldn’t believe he’d summoned the courage to ask. But he couldn’t have not asked. Couldn’t have not tried. Not after Will had told him he loved him.

  Instead of stopping to give instructions to the grooms, he made his way up to his room in the carriage house’s garret. Had to be nearing nine. If Will was still abed—and that was very likely, given the man hadn’t moved a muscle when Jack had risen hours ago—then he needed to wake him. It would take time for the sleep to clear from Will’s head and for him to dress. And the man needed to shave. A morning beard would not do for an appointment with a duke.

  Will had told him as recently as yesterday morning that he did not want Jack’s help. But this wasn’t so much help as providing him with an option. Ultimately, it would be up to Will to decide if he wanted to exercise that option.

  And if Will refused, then Jack would have his answer, and he wouldn’t need to work up the courage or struggle to find the right words to ask Will for what he wanted most of all. But if Will exercised the option...

  Just the thought of what that could mean made Jack’s heart slam high and hard against his ribs. It was what he wanted—oh hell, he wanted it more than anything, enough to ask for the duke’s assistance—but in the same breath, the prospect frightened him to his core. He turned the knob and slipped into his room. The drapes were still drawn, muting the morning sun, the fire in the hearth almost down to embers. First though, he needed to wake Will and get the man to verify one of the points he’d made last night. If Jack could get Will to give him his word, then that particular risk, at least, could be put to rest.

  * * *

  A hand nudged his shoulder. “Will.”

  “What, Jack?” He snuggled deeper under the blanket, though the bed wasn’t nearly as warm without Jack. A wonderfully wicked thought began to form in his sleep-logged mind.

  “I need you to get up,” Jack said, voice serious and grave, effectively squashing that wicked thought.

  So much for trying to lure Jack into climbing back into bed.

  Will pushed up into a seated position and dragged a hand over his face. Jack was perched on the edge of the mattress, shoulders turned toward Will. “Why do I need to get up already?”

  Quicker than lightning, Jack’s possible answers to that question passed through Will’s head.

  Because I need you to leave.

  Because I need to leave for Hampshire now.

  Because I don’t love you in return.

  Enough, Will told himself. In any case, there was no use whatsoever in being so melodramatic. What would be, would be. Jack had done an amazing thing for him yesterday. That was what mattered. Nothing else.

  “You have an appointment to see to,” Jack said, his expression as serious and grave as his voice.

  “What sort of appointment?”

  “Were you serious when you said you are going to make a go at a respectable life?”

  “Yes. What sort of appointment, Jack?”

  “Will you give me your word you will no longer cheat or engage in...those other activities?”

  “Yes. Jack, what sort of appointment?” Will asked, yet again.

  “With His Grace. He wishes to discuss an...option with you.”

  Frustrated at having asked so many questions already, Will merely arched a brow.

  “You said you believed it would be difficult to purchase a decent property. The duke is well connected when it comes to properties available for sale. He wishes to discuss an option with you. This morning. Within the half-hour. So you need to get out of bed, dress and shave. He’s in his study. Go to the front door and let the butler know he is expecting you.”

  “How did I obtain this appointment?”

  Jack pushed to his feet. “I need to alert the grooms to have the team and traveling carriage readied, as His Grace and Mr. Wal
sh will be leaving for Hampshire in the next hour or so.” Hand on the door knob, he looked over his shoulder. “I asked him for it.”

  Then Jack was out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

  He had asked the duke?

  Stunned, Will merely sat there.

  Jack had asked his employer to help Will?

  Well, yes, the duke would likely know about far more properties available for sale than what was listed in the Times. And if the man nudged Will toward one, the possibility of the owner accepting Will’s offer would very likely increase. But Will had never considered the possibility of leveraging the duke’s connections. Even if the thought had occurred to him, he would never have asked Jack to do so much as put a good word in for him. The man was Jack’s employer, and a damned duke.

  Jack valued his position above all. Would never do anything to jeopardize it. Yet he had taken it upon himself to seek his employer’s assistance on Will’s behalf.

  Which also meant the duke now knew of Will’s existence, knew he and Jack were friends. Something so mundane shouldn’t please Will so much, yet it did.

  And hell, Will had less than a half-hour to present himself in the duke’s study.

  Throwing the blanket aside, he pushed out of bed. As he washed up, shaved the stubble from his jaw and dressed, he tried his damnedest not to over-think the situation or Jack’s reasons. They’d been friends for two decades, and Jack knew how much a property meant to him. Christ, Jack had spent yesterday prowling around the Rookery, tracking down one of the men Will had gambled against, and beating said man until he recovered Will’s savings.

  In comparison, a simple request of one’s employer was a small thing. A few minutes’ conversation.

  Yet Will knew Jack well enough to know that conversation had been far, far from trivial to Jack.

  The level of trust that Jack must have in him...

  Holy hell.

  He snagged hold of his heart before it could leap too far. Best to focus on the current task at hand.