The Thief

by Bonnie Dee

  The desperation in his voice was raw and real. Jody couldn’t be lying about this. Not the way his gaze devoured Cyril like the roaring flames in the furnaces below.

  “Have me, then,” Cyril murmured. He had no pride left and would give this man, whoever he was or pretended to be, whatever he wanted. There was nothing of value remaining for the thief to steal except the kiss on his lips.

  A moment later, Jody took it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jody meant to hold back a little. He didn’t mean to sound so needy that he practically begged. But one look at Cyril, one whiff of his cologne, one murmur of his bass voice, the feeling of his arm muscle under Jody’s hand, and he was done for. He had to have what he’d been starved for, and for once it wasn’t food. Nor was it sex. It was simply Cyril.

  Jody hugged harder, kissed deeper, struggled to get closer than was humanly possible, as if he could crawl inside Cyril and become a part of him. Lust blazed through him, but along with it came a deeper, more frightening craving that he had no name for. That emotion bit into him, tooth and claw, shaking him like a dog with a bit of bone.

  After several frantic minutes of grappling, touching whatever exposed parts of each other they could, and beginning to burrow hands underneath clothing, the sound of voices floating from the bridge broke them apart. Several crewmen, ending their shift, had stopped to talk before going their separate ways.

  Below them in the shadows, Jody and Cyril split apart and held very still, waiting and listening.

  Soon, the sailors tossed their cigarette butts overboard and moved on.

  Eyes gleaming in the ambient light, Cyril faced Jody and murmured, “Come to my stateroom. I don’t share it with anyone.”

  Yes! Of course! Jody wanted to shout, but attempted to be cautious. “I’m not dressed for first class tonight, and if I were caught leaving your cabin, it would not be good for either of us.”

  He was more concerned about Cyril’s reputation than afraid for himself. What would they do, keelhaul him for being someplace he oughtn’t? Lock him in the brig till the voyage was over? More likely a sharp rebuke and back to steerage with him.

  Cyril caught his hand and squeezed. “We’ll be careful. Please come with me.”

  How could he resist temptation when the man looked at him like that? “All right, then.”

  They quickly crossed the foredeck to a door leading inside. Even the corridors in first class were enough to spell out the difference in the quality of accommodations. No plush red carpet or gilded wall sconces graced the halls in steerage.

  Cyril fit the key to the lock of his stateroom and welcomed Jody inside. It was an adorable jewel box of a room. Snug and likely to be disdained by those who occupied more luxurious suites, but carpeted, papered, furnished, and decorated in a manner designed to make a long-distance voyager feel at home.

  Cyril locked the door behind them. For a moment, they stood with their hands at their sides, gazes locked together.

  Cyril cleared his throat. “May I offer you some tea?”

  “Fuck tea.” Jody tore off his jacket, flung it on the floor, and aimed for Cyril.

  Hot kisses and stroking hands made their clothing melt away bit by bit until both were naked.

  Jody plunged his hands into Cyril’s hair and held his head steady while pillaging his mouth. His vigor earned soft whimpers of satisfaction as Cyril clung to him.

  For several moments, only the noise of wet kisses and groans of pleasure filled the cabin, then Cyril pulled away and muttered, “Oh, how I’ve missed this!”

  “Mmph,” Jody agreed and slid his hands down the smooth length of Cyril’s back to cup his buttocks and drag him closer. Their cocks pressed together, hot, hard, and insistent. “Missed this,” he responded.

  With you. Only with you. No one else would do. His silent heart burbled the sort of ridiculous twaddle sung in a music hall show.

  Jody rubbed his groin against Cyril’s and he slid the tip of his finger down the split in his bum to finger his entrance. Cyril gasped and pushed back onto his encroaching digit.

  “Want it?” Jody grated hoarsely.

  “Yes, please!”

  Jody teased and toyed until Cyril groaned and stopped kissing him.

  “Fill me there. I want to know what it is like.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yes. Hair pomade on the bureau should do to lubricate, should it not?” Cyril moved to the bed and reclined there.

  Heart jaggedly beating, Jody moved to the bureau, where he found Dr. Quincy’s Aromatic Hair Oil. Behind the bottle, a comb and brush set, and a shaving kit stood a flat container from which tiny plants struggled to reach light cast from an electric sconce.

  “Your orchids! I feared they were all destroyed.”

  “Some survived. I sold all but these seedlings. I doubt they’ll endure the conditions until I can give them proper lighting, but I had to try.”

  Jody’s throat abruptly swelled. This declaration illustrated everything he admired about Cyril. The man’s optimistic and hopeful outlook was a tonic to Jody’s pessimism and inability to believe in anything. This was why he craved Cyril. The essence of this man pulled Jody to him and tethered him there yet he did not wish to escape that gentle leash.

  Jody returned to the bed, hair oil in hand. He stretched beside Cyril and sighed as he reached to cup his cheek. “I’m happy to be here with you.” He leaned to kiss him slowly and sweetly.

  Cyril blinked open his eyes, which crinkled at the corners. “And I am happy to have you here with me. Will you bugger me now, please?”

  Jody chuckled. “Lie on your stomach. I will massage your back and your buttocks, and when you feel ready—if you feel ready—I will do whatever it is you wish me to do with you.”

  ***

  Cyril rested his cheek on his palm and closed his eyes. He almost purred at the marvelous sensation of Jody’s hands kneading every muscle the length of his torso. When he reached Cyril’s arse, he massaged hips, cheeks, thighs, but coyly avoided the one area where Cyril most wanted his touch.

  “I will do whatever it is you wish me to do with you,” Jody had said.

  THAT! Touch me there. Do that forbidden act that upsets people so terribly. Show me what it is to be under you while you push and push and push inside me.

  Would it hurt very much to be penetrated by something so hard and so…large? Even the fear of pain seemed intoxicating. His arse clenched and released with the beating of his heart, and he could bear the exquisite tension no more. “Go on! Fuck me now.”

  He pressed his mouth into the pillow, unable to believe those coarse words had come from him.

  Behind him, Jody laughed and smoothed a palm over Cyril’s lower back. “Relax then and breathe normally. I’ll take care of you.”

  Such warming words. I’ll take care of you. Cyril settled into the mattress, burrowed his cheek into the pillow and released his tension as much as possible. Only then did Jody begin to stroke and touch the muscles in his lower anatomy. Clever fingers slid between his cheeks, up the seam to Cyril’s entrance. At last, Jody’s oil-slicked forefinger entered him.

  A thrilling, squirming desire filled Cyril. He wriggled at the intrusion and pushed back to gain more.

  Immediately, Jody withdrew. “Not so fast. The more I withhold, the more you will open up to receive.”

  That proved absolutely true as Jody spent the next several moments stretching and probing, then withdrawing to leave Cyril wanting more. By the time he replaced finger with his cock’s head, Cyril was so eager, he panted, “Please! Hurry and do it.”

  “Say fuck me again. I want to hear you.” Jody’s rasping growl signaled he was as aroused as Cyril.

  “F-fuck me,” he whispered weakly, then repeated with confidence, “Fuck me! Hard.”

  Jody leaned low, and his lips brushed Cyril’s ear. “At your command.”

  As the pressure of that cock widened him almost past bearing, Cyril gasped, then moaned, then cried
out.

  Jody stopped. “Shh. Don’t alarm your neighbors.”

  “They’ll likely think it’s another bout of seasickness.” Cyril took a steadying breath and forced himself to stop clenching. “I’m ready now.”

  As Jody inexorably pushed deeper, Cyril learned his body could encompass every bit of his length, much more than he had expected. He pushed back against Jody’s thrusts and earned his partner’s pleasured groans.

  The see-saw motion of giving and receiving built to a rhythmic crescendo, Cyril filled and fulfilled by all that Jody gave him. And then, abruptly, an explosion of bliss rained down, and it was finished. Jody went boneless, draped over Cyril like the heaviest of quilts.

  After they’d disentangled their bodies and sprawled out beside each other, Cyril felt he’d swum the entire Atlantic Ocean. He could not imagine moving a muscle as he blinked open heavy eyelids to find Jody frowning at him.

  “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing. Simply watching you rest.”

  Cyril smiled. “You have worn me out in the best possible way. I’m so very glad I found you tonight.”

  “As am I, but I suppose I ought to be going.” Jody sat up. “Never know when a porter might knock at the door.”

  “There’s little chance of that, and if so, I would tell him to go away. Please stay until morning.”

  “Are you certain? I thought now desire has been fulfilled, you might want me gone.”

  Cyril grasped his arm and tugged him back down. “Stay and talk awhile. I want to know more about Jody Smith.”

  “You won’t like what you hear. I’m a gutter rat born and bred. Nothing more to be said.” The matter-of-fact way Jody demeaned himself was painful to hear.

  “You are far more than that. What you have managed to achieve despite your rough background is astonishing.”

  “Wot? Learnin’ to talk like a swell weren’t so ’ard. I aped my betters to get one over on ’em. A bloke does what it takes to get by, thievin’, lyin’, fuckin’, and more.”

  What did and more mean? Could the cutpurse have also been a cutthroat? A shiver of doubt tickled Cyril’s spine, but he kept any qualms out of his voice. “Whatever you’ve done, I will not shrink away from it, but I do want to know. That’s really the only way we can start afresh and truly become acquainted.”

  Jody propped his head on his hand and gazed intently into Cyril’s eyes. He dropped his Cockney accent as easily as shedding a winter coat. “Why would you want that? We can fuck without all the palaver. I know how to please a man in bed. Why would you care to know anything about my dirty life? Will it arouse you to hear the facts? You crave rough trade?”

  “Stop it! Don’t debase yourself. You mean far more to me than a means to alleviate a need. I wish to know you as a person, all aspects of you. And then…” He trailed off, uncertain where such a friendship would end.

  “Then we land in New York and go our separate ways. I’ll head west as soon as I can buy a train ticket. You likely have some relative or friend to introduce you to New York society.”

  “No, I don’t. I plan to find employment and hopefully carve out a place for myself in a place where one’s bloodline doesn’t define him.”

  Jody snorted. “Do you believe that’s ever true?”

  “It will be different in America from the class system in England. I’m starting over just like you. We can both build our future lives however we choose.” Cyril spoke with more conviction than he felt. The enormity of landing on a foreign shore with little money and hazy prospects was not lost on him.

  Jody lay back upon the pillow. “Your optimism is one of your most endearing qualities. I still can’t understand what you might find charming about me. Perhaps it’s a sense of danger, eh?”

  “You have pushed me to try new things which I never would have dared prior to meeting you. I know little of your character, yet I believe you possess a great capacity for caring you don’t wish to admit to.” He took a breath and hoped his guess would prove true. “That boy you knew as a child. I realize you’ve never actually been to India, but the heart of the story rang true. There was someone in your youth who meant very much to you. Tell me about him.”

  “Oh, that.”

  For some time, Jody remained silent, then he laid his forearm over his eyes and began to talk. “I was not the prince but the pauper who led him astray. Richard snuck out of his house one day on a lark with the aim of exploring the city. Caught me picking his pocket—observant chap—and said he’d pay me to show him around the seamier parts of London. At first, I demanded payment every time he visited, but after a while, our arrangement turned to something more.”

  Cyril listened to the creaking sounds of the ship breathing and quietly waited for Jody to continue.

  “We met as often as Richard could get away. I never had a brother, but imagine it would be like that. We laughed at the same jokes, understood what the other was thinking before he spoke. Richard taught me all I needed to know to pass in his world. I taught him the tricks of street. He made me show him how to nick a wallet, but I wouldn’t let him try it. Mostly we played boyish games, swam in the Thames, or whiled away hours doing not much at all.”

  Jealousy singed Cyril at the idyllic description. He wished he’d been the boy who had found a place in Jody’s tender young heart. “Did you ever…?”

  “Have sex? No. Not so much as a tug.” Jody smiled weakly. “Not for lack of desire on my part. I tried to touch him once, but Richard shied away. Didn’t make me stop pining for him. We had one glorious summer together before he returned to boarding school. I didn’t see him at the holidays, nor the following summer, and when he came to find me again, we weren’t boys any longer. That magical brotherhood had ended. After that, I never saw Richard again.”

  “I am sorry. He meant a lot to you.”

  Jody shrugged it off. “Anyway, he taught me basic manners and proper speech. Another fellow completed my education, an old gentleman who’d once been a professor of literature. He gave me etiquette lessons and leant me books from his library. He liked for me to sit naked while I read aloud then masturbate until I came over the pages of his beautiful books. Swore the sight of it was the only thing that could make him hard in his dotage.” He laughed.

  Cyril would not betray his shock at the obscene demands of an elderly man on a youth under his tutelage. Jody had revealed a bit of his seamy world. It was up to Cyril to absorb the information without showing any hint of judgment. People did all sorts of things to which Cyril had been oblivious. Time to remove his blinders and observe life as it truly was.

  “Is this the sort of thing you wanted to hear? What else do you wish to know?” Jody asked.

  “I have no expectations. Tell me anything you choose. You mentioned an addiction to opium. Was that part of your story true?”

  “Lassiter never taught me to save for the future. Whenever I had coin in my pocket, I’d chase the dragon. Since I could picture no future for myself, I cared little what ill effects it had on me.” He exhaled. “Until one day, I simply decided I must stop.”

  “That must have taken great strength of will, so you must have valued yourself at least a little.”

  “Perhaps.” He shrugged again. “At any rate, I became a second-story man for a time until Lassiter suggested I use my gentlemanly ways to set traps for unsuspecting flies. I no longer had to break into houses. Money was freely given to me.”

  A dagger turned in Cyril’s gut. “I was an easy mark. Too bad I didn’t have anything worth taking.”

  Jody removed his arm from over his eyes and rolled to look directly at Cyril. “You had everything worth taking. Things much more valuable than money. The time you shared with me changed everything. Even if you’d possessed a fortune, I would not have taken it. I hope you will believe that.”

  “I’d like to.” Cyril gave a small smile. “I’m working on forgiveness. Perhaps I am not all the way there quite yet.” He paused and assembled his thoughts before addi
ng, “I would not judge what you did to survive in this world, but I pray you will give me no further cause to doubt you. If you are honest with me, I will do the same for you.”

  Jody reached a hand to cup Cyril’s face and stroked his jawline with one finger. “Then may I be completely truthful? I have found more happiness in your company than I ever thought possible. Although we will part ways after we disembark, I would like to spend as much time with you as possible during this voyage.”

  A surge of joy rushed through Cyril at these words. He should not desire it so intensely, but he could not deny his happiness that Jody appeared to share his feelings. What wonderful pleasures they would share so long as the ship rode the ocean waves.

  “That sounds perfect to me.” He kissed the palm that touched his face.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the early morning light, Jody slipped silently from the warm, rumpled bedsheets and the loose embrace of his sleeping companion to let himself out of the room. Tiptoeing down the corridor, he encountered no early rising passengers until he was nearly to the steerage stairs.

  “You, there! Where have you come from?”

  Jody dipped his head, keeping his face hidden from the uniformed man. “No place in particular, sir. Simply taking the morning air.”

  “Skulking about, more like. Your attire suggests you do not belong here. Likely prowling around, looking for something to steal.”

  “Just wanted to see how the other half lives. I promise you’ll not see me here again, sir.” Jody let his gaze rise no farther than the brass buttons on the man’s chest.

  “I suppose I could let you go with a warning.” He paused. “What might you give me in return?”

  “I have only a few coins on me.”

  “No man is ever completely without resources.” The fellow stepped nearer. “If you’ve no money, perhaps another form of payment…”

  His request seemed clear. Normally, Jody would concede defeat, drop to his knees and pay the required toll, but with the taste of Cyril fresh on his tongue, he couldn’t bear to suck some stranger’s willy. He pretended to misunderstand and reached into his pocket for some change. “My uncle sent me this to help on the journey. Please, accept it as a token of my gratitude.”