Lionel could tell Jim was considering his answer carefully. “He seemed to think I was out bird-watching.”
A fairly neutral answer. “I suppose he would jump to that conclusion. I told them I had run into you exploring along the river and that you might come here if the rain proved too much. He enjoys bird-watching, you see.”
“You know your servants’ interests?”
Jim seemed impressed by that, so Lionel felt bad having to tell him, “Only Harrison’s, I’m afraid. He was the butler at my townhouse when I bought this place, and I asked him to look for someone to manage here. That’s when he asked for the position and explained why.”
“It was nice of you to accommodate him.”
Lionel was going to answer, when the door opened and Harrison came in with the tray he’d requested. Clearly, Harrison had understood what Lionel had meant, as he’d brought a selection of everything that had been served at dinner and a bit of meat pie that had probably been part of the servants’ dinner as well. “Did you wish me to prepare a room, sir?”
Lionel answered before Jim could protest. “I think so, yes. Is one easier than the others?”
“The green suite was turned out just this morning, sir.”
Jim gave a funny look at the name, but Lionel ignored it. The suite was large and comfortable and near his own, all of which would have made it his first choice even if it hadn’t been easy for the staff to prepare. “Then prepare that for him.”
“Very good.” Harrison bowed and left.
Lionel turned his attention back to Jim. Joking had seemed to calm him before. “You don’t like green? That would seem to be a bit of a handicap for someone interested in plants.”
Jim laughed, although it was a bit strained. Not really noticeable except to someone who’d spent two days in a travel carriage, listening to his laughter. “It would limit my choices, wouldn’t it?”
Lionel continued to stare at him, though, waiting for the real answer. He’d always been good at keeping silent. Jim held out longer than most, but eventually, he succumbed. “The last night I worked in a brothel, it was the green suite that I was assigned to, that’s all.”
“Would you like me to call Harrison back and have him change it?”
“No, no, I really shouldn’t stay to begin with.”
Now that he’d gotten Jim here, he wasn’t about to let him get away. “If it bothers you enough to make you leave, I’ll summon him back now.” He started for the bell pull to emphasize the point.
“No, don’t. I really shouldn’t...” He was cut off by another crash of thunder sounding closer than the others.
“You don’t want to be in the woods on a night like this. A tree could blow down, or animals could be frightened.”
Jim sighed. “Servants’ quarters would do.”
“They’re all full. I have a full staff here. And they’re setting up the green suite now.” Lionel went back to his chair and picked up a plate on the way. “Go ahead, eat up. I have some newspapers that were sent down from London and the locals from most of the nearby towns. If you’d like, you can look at the properties sections after you’ve had something to eat.” He nudged the tray of food towards Jim. Mrs. O’Brien was an excellent cook. He knew the smell of the food would be tempting.
Jim gave in at last and pulled his chair over. Lionel filled his plate with some of the ham he’d asked for and poked at it with his fork. He had eaten well at dinner, but he had known Jim wouldn’t eat if he didn’t have something himself. Even now, Jim hesitated before choosing the slice of meat pie and a bit of the peas. He glanced in Lionel’s direction then put the serving fork down and settled back in his chair, or as far back as he was letting himself.
Clearly, Jim needed a bit of privacy. Lionel put down his plate and went to the bookshelves, hoping he looked like there was something he needed there, with his back to Jim. As he moved to another shelf, he glanced back. The quick look told him it was working; Jim had taken seconds, and most of the pie was gone already. Lionel kept his head towards the shelves.
Lionel stared at the books, but his mind wasn’t on them. The problem was, he didn’t have any property with a life interest that he could sell to Jim, and nothing that he could convert into one. There was always the option of buying another piece of land somewhere, one that would have a suitable place to sell him, but that would be too obvious. Jim would know immediately that that was what he was doing.
Maybe one of his friends, someone who lived nearby. Or maybe he could convince someone else to buy a piece of property with a suitable life interest on his behalf. Sir Robert Farnsdale, maybe. They were old friends, even bed partners for a brief period, so he could tell him the true reason he needed it without fear of it getting around to anyone else in their set. Although it did feel a bit desperate to do that. And if Jim found out, he’d be furious. Or maybe not. Maybe he would understand that Lionel just wanted to keep him close.
Then Lionel realized the silence had stretched longer than he’d intended, and he started to babble to fill the space. “There was a book I was looking for...” Marvelous, he thought, this will be a fascinating conversation. He read the titles in front of him, hoping for inspiration.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Lionel heard Jim put the plate down.
The third shelf down, he spotted Gardens of the Manor House. He pulled it off the shelf. “No, it was for you, actually. This. I thought you might find it interesting.” He brought it to the table.
Jim picked the book up. “In case I buy a manor house?” But he was smiling when he said it, and he did open the book. “I see, plants that do well in certain areas of the country.”
Lionel relaxed and picked up his plate. He had a vague memory of buying the book at a bookseller’s recommendation when he’d been thinking of redoing the gardens but had never actually read it or opened it outside of the bookshop, but apparently there had been something of use in it. Of course, Ted Hodgson could always be counted on when it came to books. “I thought, as you were looking into having a garden of your own, it might be of interest.” He took a forkful of ham, hoping to encourage Jim to start eating again.
Jim looked up and grinned. “It is. Thank you. For taking me seriously about the house, I mean.” His gaze landed on Lionel’s plate, and he picked up his own again.
Lionel wanted to answer but wasn’t sure what to say. By the time he’d finished the bite of ham, the time to say something meaningful had passed, but Jim seemed to be enjoying the food, so it hadn’t been a waste.
The book seemed to break the tension. At least Jim seemed willing to eat while Lionel told him about the villages in the area—which also gave him an excuse to eat far less than Jim, as he was talking so much more. When Jim put his plate down and didn’t seem inclined to take anything else from the tray, Lionel offered to show him to the green suite. “Bring the book, if you like.”
Jim picked it up. “You think the gardens will help me sleep?”
“It would work for me.”
Jim grinned again. “Then perhaps I’ll try it.”
Lionel chuckled. “You think you’ll have trouble sleeping then?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he hadn’t said them. With Jim sleeping in the room across the hall from him, he had no doubt that he himself would have trouble sleeping. To cover his embarrassment, he began giving a tour of the house as he walked. “The breakfast room is just down that hall. You can go there whenever you wake. The library is over there if you want something else to read.” He kept at it until finally, “That’s the green suite. And I’m just across the hall here. Sleep well.” He opened the door for Jim and held it until Jim grinned, then he let go of the knob quickly, hoping Jim hadn’t thought him an idiot for acting as if he were incapable of opening a door himself.
Jim glanced into the room and stopped. “You’re certain you wouldn’t rather I stay somewhere else?”
“You could choose any room on this floor if you’d rather. I can ring for Har
rison to come back.”
“This floor?”
“That’s right. You’re my guest, so you stay in a guest room. Would you rather have another one?”
“This is fine. This is much more than fine. If you’re certain?” He looked at Lionel. When he saw Lionel smile and nod, Jim shrugged and said, “Pleasant dreams then.”
Lionel watched Jim close the door then realized there was no reason for him to be standing out in the hallway and went into his own room. Baxter was waiting for him like the good valet he was, with his nightshirt spread out on the bed and hot water waiting on the stand. “Good evening, Baxter.”
“Good evening, sir.” Baxter bowed but not in time to hide his yawn.
Lionel pulled out his pocket watch. “I’m sorry to be so late.” But it wasn’t so very late, no later than he normally retired.
“You’re not, sir. I am sorry.”
“Didn’t you sleep well?”
“Everything was...I mean... I didn’t mean to complain...”
Poor Baxter, Lionel thought. Unlike Harrison, he had not been pleased when Lionel had decided he wanted a house in the country. “Is there something wrong with your room?”
“No sir. Very comfortable. The view of the woods is—invigorating.”
Lionel caught on. “And all the little creatures are driving you mad?”
“Keeping me awake, sir. But nothing that isn’t to be expected in the country.”
“Which is why you hate the country.”
Baxter opened his mouth to protest, but Lionel cut him off.
“Go to bed. I’m perfectly capable of undressing myself. I believe the room next to Harrison’s is empty. Mrs. Barton would know. If it is, you can start sleeping there. It faces the drive. Nothing but clattering carriages.”
Baxter hesitated, and Lionel could see his desire to be a proper valet warring with his desire to be as far from the forest creatures as possible. Both lost to another jaw-stretching yawn. “If you’re certain you don’t need me, sir.”
“I am. At least tonight.” Didn’t want him tonight, if he were honest. “When I have to get all of this back on in the morning might be another matter.”
“Then thank you, sir.”
Lionel waited until Baxter had left the room, then threw his dressing gown over the chair and began to fuss with the knot of his cravat. Baxter’s inability to sleep in the country couldn’t have come at a better time for him. Baxter would never comment on such matters, but an evening sitting next to Jim, talking to Jim—well, it would be obvious to Baxter as soon as he began undressing his lower half that he found someone in the house desirable. He loosened his breeches then went back to the knot on his cravat. Without Baxter around, he was free to think about Jim just across the hall. About the possibility that he would cross that hall and knock on the door. That he might want—
And that was ridiculous. Jim had left that life behind. Lionel told himself he should not be thinking of his houseguest in that way, not Jim, who really needed a friend, certainly not a client, not that he wanted to be a client. But a friend. That would be nice.
Lionel was so certain that that was all there would be between them that he almost didn’t believe it when he heard a soft tapping on his door. Perhaps Baxter had forgotten something, or Jim needed something and didn’t know who to ask for it. He looked around for the discarded dressing gown, but before he could find it, he heard the soft creak of the floorboards. If it was Jim, he was leaving. Lionel hurried to the door and stood partially behind it as he opened it, hoping to hide how aroused he was from Jim.
It was Jim, but he had only gone a step or two away. He turned when he heard the door open. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Lionel peered around the edge of the door, unsure of what to say. “You didn’t. I’m not even finished undressing.” That hadn’t been the right thing to say, he was certain. He tried again. “Did you need something?”
Jim stepped back. “Never mind. I thought...” He turned and started across the hall.
Lionel forgot about hiding behind the door and stepped out into the hallway. “Wait, Jim. Whatever it was, I’d like to help.”
Jim turned. He looked ready to say something, then he paused and stared at Lionel, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He came back to the door and stood very close to Lionel, close enough to whisper, “Actually, I thought I might be able to help you with something.” His hand strayed down, along the front of Lionel’s shirt, over the waistband of his trousers, to the buttons securing the fall.
It was so close to what he’d been imagining, Lionel wasn’t sure what to do. “You don’t need to,” he whispered.
Jim leaned in closer, until his lips were almost touching Lionel’s ear and Lionel could feel Jim’s warm breath against his cheek. “What if I want to?”
Lionel wrapped his arm around Jim’s waist and pulled him into the room. Jim pushed the door closed behind them and brushed his lips against Lionel’s neck, running small kisses along his jaw until he reached his lips. Then Jim pressed himself against Lionel from thighs to chest. Lionel couldn’t pretend he didn’t want this, not with Jim pressed so close, and he could feel Jim wanted him too, or he was very good at pretending. His length was pressed against Lionel’s, as hard as Lionel and rubbing against him as Jim’s hips thrust up slowly but steadily. Lionel moaned softly and opened his mouth, wanting to taste Jim. Jim’s tongue darted in at once, exploring the sensitive roof of Lionel’s mouth. Lionel tangled his fingers in Jim’s hair and sucked on his lower lip.
Jim pulled back far enough to give himself room to nuzzle Lionel’s neck again. Lionel slid his hands down Jim’s back until he reached the waist of his trousers, then he untucked Jim’s shirt so he could slide his hands along Jim’s spine, feeling the warm skin under his hands. Jim kept kissing and nipping until Lionel could feel Jim’s breath tickling his ear. Lionel slid his hands down until they were under the waistband of Jim’s trousers and caressing his hips. Jim leaned closer and whispered, “You’re wearing too much.”
“So are you,” Lionel whispered back and slid his hands around until he could begin undoing the laces at the waist of Jim’s trousers.
Jim started to laugh. “And here I thought I’d have to persuade you.” He stepped back and began undoing whatever laces fell into his hands.
Lionel pushed Jim’s trousers down until they fell to the floor. Jim wasn’t wearing drawers, so his cock was free and erect at once. Lionel ran his hand along the hard flesh, squeezing a little as he rubbed. Jim’s hips snapped forward at the friction. Jim grinned and kicked free of his trousers. “You’re very good.” He pulled his shirt over his head.
“And you’re very handsome.” Lionel admired the slim, muscled chest dusted with hair, the narrow hips.
Jim flushed a bit at the praise. “You’re still wearing too much for me to know what I’m getting.”
Lionel laughed and pulled his shirt over his head as he backed towards the bed. His trousers and drawers followed, and he sat on the edge of the coverlet, waiting for Jim. Jim crossed the room slowly, languidly, letting Lionel watch every movement of his body, as if he needed to see any more to be hard and leaking with desire. He could see Jim was just as ready, his cock hard and pointing straight out at Lionel as he made a show of coming to him.
When he reached the bed, Jim paused. “No sling?”
“No, my shoulder’s much better as long as I don’t twist it.”
Jim nodded and pushed lightly against Lionel’s chest. Lionel took the hint and fell backwards onto the bed. He was rewarded with Jim’s slender body covering his, Jim’s skilled tongue darting out to lick a path along his chest, his neck, and finally darting between Lionel’s lips as they melted into a kiss. Lionel twined his fingers into Jim’s hair, trying to keep him close. He felt Jim pull back slightly, almost as if he were unsure. But why would he be unsure of what to do? He’d done this before, far more than Lionel had, he was certain. Unless he hadn’t. Did he kiss the men who paid for his
services? Lionel had rarely hired anyone, usually only when he went out with Robert, but few of the men had kissed him, now that he thought of it. They had been professional, passionate but cool at the same time. Jim deserved more than that. He wanted Jim to have more than that. Lionel caught Jim’s shoulders and rolled him over so Lionel was on top of him then began kissing and licking his way along the ridge of Jim’s collarbone, towards his hard nipples.
Jim wriggled in Lionel’s grasp as if he were trying to get out from under Lionel. Lionel hesitated, but if anything, Jim was harder than he had been, and his body arched towards Lionel’s kisses. Lionel held him in place and kept exploring with his mouth as Jim moved under him.
Jim tangled his fingers in Lionel’s hair, holding him in place. “Let me. I’m very good at giving men what they want.”
So he had been right. Lionel slid up to rest his forehead against Jim’s. “Has anyone ever given you what you want?”
Jim stared at him with such surprise that Lionel knew he had his answer. He used the moment of surprise to catch Jim’s hands and hold them away.
“I can...” Jim breathed.
“I’m sure, but I want to.” Lionel leaned in to kiss his way along Jim’s neck.
Jim moved again to fondle Lionel, but Lionel caught his hands and held them over his head. Jim struggled, but he also moaned in such a lewd way it went straight to Lionel’s cock. Lionel fumbled in the sheets until he found his discarded cravat and used the length of cloth to tie Jim’s hands to the headboard. When he’d secured Jim, Lionel leaned back to examine the slim body stretched out in front of him. Jim looked up at him from under his lashes, trying to read him, Lionel realized. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Jim’s ear. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered then pressed a soft kiss to Jim’s neck.
Jim stopped moving and looked at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then his body arched towards Lionel, not struggling to get free, but wanting to be closer. Lionel slid his hand along Jim’s thigh, over his hip, along his chest until his fingers brushed one hard nipple. He felt Jim gasp when his fingers touched the sensitive spot, so he rolled the nub between his finger, tugging gently, then dropped his head to the spot and started to lick and nibble. Jim made the most wonderful sounds beneath him, surprised and lewd and completely enjoyable. Lionel pressed a kiss to the indent along the center of Jim’s chest then ran his tongue along to his other nipple. “Tell me what you want, Jim.”
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