"Hugh...” Kincade's voice had a quiet but dangerous edge to it.
"I am sure she is at Byron's."
Felicity stomped her foot down on Kincade's and screamed, “You're not listening to me! I said, ‘Take me home.’ Who cares where Rebecca is? I certainly don't."
Kincade turned to her and snarled, “I care.” He punctuated his next words with a stab of his index finger to her chest, saying, “I cannot abide you; I find you the most despicable woman I have ever met.” He started to leave, and then stopped. “Do something about that vermin in your hair. It's disgusting."
"Ohhhh!” she screamed and clutched her head.
Hugh laughed in delight.
"This is all your fault,” she said to him. “You brought that ... that horrible Rebecca person here to drive a wedge between Kincade and me. Didn't you?"
"Yes, I did,” he said proudly. He turned to smile at the servants watching from the kitchen serving window. Portia winked at him, while Gaston clapped his hands.
Chapter Seven
Byron stumbled into his room and fell onto his bed. From across the room he spied his reflection in the vanity mirror. He touched his face, the face of Rebecca. She was crying—her beauty stained by her tears. Everything was ruined ... everything. He had hoped that Kincade would fall for Rebecca, and he had seemed to, but then to realize that he had suspected all along just made the entire night seem like a parody of some half-baked tragedy.
He will never love me now, Byron thought. I am such a fool.
His agony at being caught in his deception was painful. His heart literally ached within his breast. Why, he wondered, would a man like Kincade want a silly molly like me? He can have his pick of men and women; he would never notice an idiot such as me.
He rose and walked to the mirror. “You are no woman, and you never will be,” he said to the woman in the mirror. “You have just been lost in your dreams and in your love, but no man, especially Richard Kincade, will ever really want you."
"You're wrong.” Kincade's deep voice said quietly from the doorway.
Slowly, Byron looked up to see him reflected in the mirror. He didn't turn but stood very still. He wondered if Kincade's reflection was real or merely a delusion created by his errant heart.
"I do want you.” He walked up behind Byron and looked with him at Rebecca. “I want you as Byron..."
Byron's expression changed from hope to hurt.
"Let me finish,” he said and gently turned Byron around to face him, “and I want you as my beard, Rebecca. With you, I can have the best of both worlds. I can have it all."
"I may always have to hide behind the beard,” Byron said.
"I don't care. I love you—all of you.” He started kissing Byron. “I want you.” He stopped and looked at Byron. He smiled mischievously. “And recently, I've had the distinct feeling that you want me, too."
"How could you tell?"
He slid his hand down the front of Byron's shimmering silver gown. “Oh, I don't know. Maybe this,” he said and rubbed his hand against the bulge in the gown.
He knelt in front and rubbed Byron's hardened shaft through the fabric of his skirt, creating the most exquisite friction. Byron closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling. Slowly, Kincade lifted the flowing skirt and slid his hands under the skirt and petticoat. His hands stroked Byron's legs. Up and down his fingers roamed, sending shivers of delight through Byron's body. Kincade found the most deliciously tender spot behind Byron's knees. He tickled the smooth concave, until with a sigh Byron collapsed onto the vanity bench.
"I think we should move to the bed,” said Kincade. He looked long and hard at Byron. “Yes?” It was obvious he would not make a move without his lover's consent.
"Yes,” breathed Byron. He stood and began removing all evidence of Rebecca. Carefully, he removed his wig and turned for Kincade to unhook his dress. The touch of Kincade's fingers as he unfastened the rows of hooks, the cold rush of air against Byron's skin, the tender touch of a fingertip sliding down his spine ignited a pure hot flame of desire in Byron that only Kincade could extinguish.
When he stood before Kincade, naked except for his make-up, he felt the most incredible sensation. He was proud to be able to elicit Kincade's pleasure as Rebecca, but even more so, he knew that Kincade desired Byron. Kincade plucked a clean towel from the vanity and began to scrub the make-up from Byron's face. As he did, Byron's hands moved to unfasten his Lordship's waistcoat. Soon both men were standing naked before one another.
"You are beautiful,” Kincade said.
Byron lovingly touched the broad expanse of Kincade's chest. His fingers played in the splay of hairs that curled across his bulging pectoral muscles. He felt the Kincade's reaction as he slid his fingers across his abdomen. His eyes never leaving Kincade's, Byron's hand reached farther down to touch the tip of his cock. The head of Kincade's penis became slick as Byron's finger traced rings around it. Byron reached to cup his balls, making Kincade squirm with delight.
Byron knelt in front of him, continuing to fondle his scrotum as his mouth covered the head of his cock. Slowly, he sucked its tender tip. His tongue traced the edge and the tender slit causing Kincade to cry out. He continued to tease the head of Kincade's cock, until he felt Kincade buck against him. Then he grasped Kincade's buttocks and pulled the pulsing shaft deep into his mouth.
Kincade watched in dreamy ecstasy as his cock pulsed in and out of Byron's mouth. He grabbed Byron's shoulders to steady himself. He could feel the hard throb of his cock as it grew larger and harder—until it reached the point of no return. With a harsh cry, he came into Byron's throat.
"I love you,” he gasped. “I love you, Byron."
Byron rose to kiss his man. “I love you, too."
Together, they lay down on the bed. Byron shivered slightly in the night air.
"Are you cold?” Kincade asked.
"Just a bit."
Kincade pulled back the covers, and they crawled beneath them, finding warmth in their embrace. They cuddled, while Kincade recovered. Byron closed his eyes and lightly dozed off to sleep.
From his drowsy state, he awoke to find Kincade lying on top of him.
"Mmm,” Byron murmured.
"I want to make love to you."
"I know."
"Will you let me take you—completely?"
Byron nodded and reached for Kincade, but Kincade stilled his hand. Byron could feel his lover's cock hard against his stomach. His own penis rose in response. Kincade explored Byron's nubile young body. With a groan, he climbed from the bed and stood beside it.
"What are you doing?” asked Byron. “Where are you going?"
Kincade pulled Byron's legs around toward him and lifted them to rest on his shoulders. He licked an index finger and gently rubbed it against Byron's ass, then slowly slipped it in. Carefully he moved it in and out of Byron's ass, until his tightness began to ease up a bit.
Byron moaned and met the thrust of Kincade's finger. He was unsurprised, when Kincade replaced the pulsing finger with his hard slick cock. Byron relished the feeling as Kincade slowly and carefully pushed his member inside. Byron could feel Kincade's hand grab his cock sliding up and down. Byron's body was soon covered in a fine sheen of sweat. The smell of his arousal and his sweat excited Kincade to thrust harder and harder into his lover.
Finally, he could feel the tension build in his balls. Byron's cock throbbed harder and harder as Kincade worked it in his hands. With cries of passion and wonder, they came. The tight warmth of Byron's ass clung to Kincade's cock, until it gradually softened and slipped free.
Spent, they climbed back under the covers and went to sleep.
* * * *
The next morning Godwin, Geoffrey, and Gaston sat around the table of Master Byron Jones’ kitchen; Portia spread freshly churned butter on their toast. As she handed it about, she presented the brothers with a new proposition.
"...and so,” she said, “I thought we should find someone sui
table for Miss Turner, else I will be stuck forever in her dreadful employ."
The brothers looked askance at one another.
"How do you propose we do that?” asked Godwin.
"She's horrible,” said Geoffrey.
Young Gaston happily licked the butter from his toast. “I know how,” he said.
As one, they turned to glance at his butter-covered face.
"How's that, pip?” asked Portia.
"Well, as you know, I was the footman on Miss Turner's carriage. I rode on the back so as to be ready to open her door."
"We know, we know,” said Godwin.
"Get on with your story, boy,” said Geoffrey.
He smiled in pure innocence and said, “Miss Turner said that she was right through with men, ‘all men,’ she said.” He looked at Portia and grinned. “Then she said that she would never marry a man, instead she wanted a woman."
They gasped.
Gaston nodded earnestly.
"She said that if she had her druthers, she would marry her maid, Portia."
Portia screamed and threw her apron over her head. Her uncles burst into laughter. Suddenly, they stopped laughing and looked at one another speculating on such a course.
"Oh no, you don't!” Portia cried and ran from the room.
About the Authors
James Buchanan is a multi-published author of homoerotic romance. James grew up in a small Southwestern town, hours away from any other small Southwestern towns. A stint at the State University, where he ostensibly majored in English, garnered him a degree useful for being someone's secretary. The absolute lack of employment opportunities led James to Southern California. After a stint in County Mental Health (administration, not client) he ran screaming into the field of Law. James has been practicing for nine years and someday he might even get it right.
Visit James at www.james-buchanan.com for more information on his books.
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Inspired by the important things in life: beauty, love, and passion, Jade Falconer has spent several years writing erotic fiction. The forbidden nature of homoeroticism has been the basis for many megabytes of fiction that has delighted a wide circle of online readers. Please feel free to visit Jade on MySpace at www.myspace.com/jadefalconer.
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Eliza Gayle is an author of contemporary erotic romance and co-owner of ScrapFairy Designs, creating book trailers and MySpace identities for authors.
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Jamie Hill was born and raised in the Midwest, where she continues to live with her husband and two sons.
At one time or another the Hills have shared their home with a rabbit, a cocker spaniel, a bearded dragon lizard, two rat terrier pups and a menagerie of fish in two 55-gallon freshwater aquariums.
She now juggles her spare time to include writing every day, freelance editing, reading as she finds time, tinkering on the computer, listening to country music, as many naps as possible, and watching movies (especially scary movies ) with her family.
For more information please visit her website: www.jamiehill.biz .
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Although she appears every inch the well-behaved wife and mother, in her heart, Selah March is a hellion—contrary, hedonistic and, on occasion, more than a touch wicked. Her twin obsessions with eroticism and the supernatural have found a much-needed outlet in fiction. Through the characters in her stories, she gives free rein to a dark sensuality that might otherwise remain hidden away forever ... and wouldn't that be a shame?
A former schoolteacher, Selah resides in the northeastern United States. She holds a B.A. plus graduate credits in English Literature, and is published in short fiction and nonfiction in local and regional magazines and newspapers. She enjoys solitude, long walks after nightfall, and the bracing rigors of a six-month-long winter. For more information, see www.SelahMarch.com.
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Yeva Wiest is one femme who loves her wife, freelance writing, traveling, and her wild little pug. She is currently working on her second novel. Her erotic fiction has appeared in Tales of Travelrotica for Lesbians and will soon appear in the upcoming Tales of Travelrotica for Lesbians Volume 2. You can e-mail Yeva at [email protected] or visit her MySpace at www.myspace.com/yevawiest.
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