by Bonnie Dee
If Longbow agreed, Jody’s sexual attentions would ensure the man’s silence better than a payoff neither Jody nor Cyril could afford. Longbow’s collusion in a sex act should square the deal. Jody could protect both Cyril’s finances and his reputation by doing something he’d done many times before. Why, then, did he feel nauseated as he stalked his quarry and prepared to offer his services?
He would send a message to Cyril’s cabin to make certain he didn’t come to the rendezvous with Longbow. Then he could take care of business without fear of Cyril’s judgment—for he knew Cyril would judge. The man was too upright and romantic to view the act as pure expedience.
Not that any of that mattered since the voyage was over and their parting inevitable. Jody regretted what may have been his final words to Cyril had been so curt. Although he’d known from the start this day was coming, it didn’t lessen the pain of parting. He’d allowed himself to care too much. Now his practical nature, developed on the Shoreditch streets, must rise to the occasion.
Jody slammed closed his heart on soft feelings and focused only on his quarry, slipping around a corner to catch a door and follow Longbow into an empty corridor. With no one in earshot and the hum of the great engine to muffle sound, this dusty passage would be the perfect spot for a garroting or a stabbing. If he were a different sort of criminal, he might solve his problem permanently, toss the body overboard come nightfall, and wipe his hands of trouble.
But he was a thief, not a killer, so he cleared his throat to stop Longbow in his tracks.
The man whirled around. “You!”
“Yes. Me.” Jody fixed him with a gaze like an Indian fakir locking wills with a cobra. He let his eyelids droop in sexual invitation. “I’ve come to pay our debt in a different sort of currency. One I suppose you did not wish to accept in front of Belmont.”
Longbow flicked a look up and down the hallway. “You can’t believe I’d settle for anything less than the agreed-upon amount. Your ‘friend’ Lord Belmont should easily pay it.”
“Belmont has nothing left but his name. Can’t tap an empty barrel. I, on the other hand, have something to offer I think you might be craving.” Jody ran his gaze the length of Longbow’s body and lingered on his crotch. “A busy, important man such as yourself occasionally needs release. I can provide it.”
Jody moved closer, step by cautious step. Wouldn’t do to scare this pigeon away.
“I told you I don’t indulge in that sort of b-behavior,” Longbow stammered, but his puritanical certainty sounded weak.
Jody smiled. “I didn’t suppose you truly meant it. Every man needs relief now and then, especially on a long sea voyage. I can do things with my hands and mouth that…” He trailed off, licking his lips and giving this birdie an illustration to entice him into the snare.
“I outgrew that sort of schoolboy nonsense long ago,” Longbow said faintly, but he leaned forward.
Jody pitched his voice lower. “Of course you have. But no one need ever know if you indulged just this once, and what I do will be a great deal more satisfying than youthful fumbling. If you know of a place where we can go, I’ll show you. For my part, I will keep as mum as the grave.” He brought a finger to his lips and played it across them, drawing attention to their fullness.
Longbow swallowed hard. “You’re trying to avoid paying me.”
“Perhaps. But pleasure can be better than money. I’ll also give you the few pounds I possess if you leave Belmont strictly out of this transaction. You can have all I own, and all of me.” Jody paused. “Do you have a private cabin?”
Longbow blinked to break Jody’s spell. “Blast! You are a conniving tempter, an instrument of Satan.”
Jody gritted his teeth as his ploy teetered on the edge of failure.
Longbow compressed his lips to a straight line, then said, “I am on duty now. I will meet you later. Bring what money you have and anything else you think will earn my lenience in this matter.”
“Yes, sir.” Jody saluted smartly. “You are the man in charge. I have no choice but to do your bidding.” Again, he fixed his gaze on the bulge in Longbow’s trousers. “Would that you had the time right now for me to show my gratitude, but tell me when and where you want me, and I will obey.”
He well knew how words like obey and man in charge spurred a man’s libido.
“Find me at the meeting place I previously mentioned at sixteen hundred hours. Do not be late, or the consequences will be severe.”
It was an earlier time than what Cyril would expect, so even if he ignored Jody’s note, the deed should be finished before he arrived.
“I promise to be there and go wherever you choose to…take me.” Jody emphasized the last words, then he stood with eyes downcast—penitent, subservient—allowing Longbow to stalk proudly away. He’d as soon have sent a knife careening after him to land between the man’s shoulder blades, but Longbow would never perceive a hint of Jody’s disgust.
Although Jody would go as far as was necessary, he prayed a simple sucking would suffice. The thought of this odious toad fucking him was too stomach churning. A bucket of lead weighed in his belly, as if he faced the gallows instead of a potential rogering. How weak his new fine sensibilities had made him. The old Jody would not wring his hands like a missish maiden.
Jody returned to his cabin and composed a note to let Cyril know that under no circumstances should he pay Longbow. After he finally finished it, he racked his brain for how to deliver the note. A solution whispered in his ear.
Jody searched for and found Mrs. Mueller, who thanked him again for sending Dieter home to her. When he explained the favor he wanted, she shook her head at the strange request. “Nein, nein.”
“For Dieter,” Jody reminded her of her obligation. “Please.”
At length, she nodded, took the note, and put it in her apron pocket. “Für Dieter,” she agreed.
The afternoon passed slowly, and Jody grew more anxious with every second. Distaste became dread, nearly horror as the hour grew late. An act he’d once taken as a bodily function akin to yawning, farting, or taking a shit now meant something. He’d experienced the beautiful intimacy possible in sex and could not stand to tarnish memories of Cyril by doing dirty deeds with Longbow.
“Hold your nose and take your cod liver oil,” Jody advised himself aloud, using Lassiter’s words when he would dose the boys in wintertime. That was what he must do tonight, shut down his senses and get past it quickly. The insignificant act would ensure a good future for Cyril, one he could begin with a healthy nest egg. Cyril would never have to survive on his wits or wonder where his next meal might come from. Jody would make certain of that. Still, as he headed toward the assigned meeting place, dread constricted his breathing like a winter ague.
*
Cyril’s cabin felt the size of a postage stamp. It could hardly contain his restless pacing. Every few minutes or so, he nearly bolted out the door to find Jody. He needed to talk to him, to see his face and reconcile with him. But every time Cyril put a hand on the latch, he recalled Jody’s clenched jaw and angry scowl. Tending plants had taught Cyril the value of waiting patiently. He must give Jody some time to himself. They would talk again before they met with Longbow.
A knock on the door dismissed the scurrying thoughts that had plagued him all afternoon. This would be Jody coming to meet him. Cyril began to smile before he even opened the door.
Shock erased his smile. Not Jody, but one of the ship’s stewards waited in the hallway, along with Mrs. Mueller, her hair covered by a shawl that framed her round face.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the steward said. “I apologize for the intrusion. This woman claims to know you. She insists she owes you a debt of gratitude and wishes to express her thanks. If you like, I’ll escort her back from whence she came.”
“I do, in fact, know Mrs. Mueller and helped her find her little one who had wandered off. You must speak German?”
“Yes, sir. One of my grandmothers was Aust
rian. This lady reminds me a bit of her, which is why I could not deny her request to meet you. My heart is too soft, I fear.”
“It’s all right.”
“Mein Herr!” Mueller clasped his hand in both of hers and released a flurry of words, the gist of which Cyril understood was danke. At the same time, he felt the prick of a paper’s edge pressing into his palm. He accepted the secret missive. There was only one person who would have sent it. His heart bounded.
“You are more than welcome, Frau Mueller. How is Dieter?”
“Sehr gut.” She dropped his hand and backed away, clearly anxious to leave now her mission was complete.
Cyril wanted to read the note and send a reply, but of course there was no way to accomplish that. Already the steward had taken Mrs. Mueller’s arm to accompany her back to steerage. Cyril bid them farewell and closed the door. He unfolded the note.
No meeting tonight. Rest easy. I’ve dealt with the situation.
Three terse sentences. Of course, Cyril couldn’t rest easy. How had Jody “dealt” with it, and why was Longbow ready to drop the matter? Surely, Jody hadn’t paid the entirety of the bribe. He couldn’t afford it, nor would Cyril allow it.
A creeping suspicion began to form. The more Cyril tried to suppress it, the more it reared its Medusa’s head. Jody had hinted at sexual favors, which Longbow had rejected, but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t interested. Jody might have followed him and offered again, only this time, Longbow accepted.
Cyril cringed at the mental picture of Jody on his knees before that loathsome man. Or worse, Longbow might demand to bugger him. Thieving and prostitution were a commonplace means to an end in Jody’s world. A barrage of lewd images crowded Cyril’s head, and he could not erase them.
“No!” he shouted at his empty cabin. If the deed had not yet been accomplished, maybe he could stop Jody from paying such an awful price.
He slammed out of the cabin, intent on finding Jody wherever he might be on this huge vessel, starting with the previously arranged meeting place. He must convince Jody that he had value and did not have to surrender his body to pay a debt.
Chapter Nineteen
In the dark confines of a supply closet near the meeting spot, Longbow’s gaze fixed on Jody with hungry intent. Only a little light from a safety lantern illuminated the brooms, mops, buckets, and shelves of bottles, which was good because Jody didn’t want to see much of Longbow’s face. Jody would’ve liked to extinguish the lamp and do this deed in complete darkness.
He’d never cringed at bodily odors. Some men he’d been with had worn the stench of old sweat like an invisible cloak or exhaled decay as if their teeth were ready to fall out. Taking such human frailties in stride, Jody would kiss their mouths or their cocks and praise their bodies to boost their pride. But now he couldn’t muster a word as the faintly medicinal odor of Longbow’s cologne choked him.
Luckily, all he had to do was suppress a grimace when he pressed his mouth against Longbow’s fleshy lips.
The fellow pulled back as if he’d been snapped in a mousetrap. He slapped Jody hard across the face, making his skin sting and his jaw go numb. “What are you doing?”
“I thought you wanted…”
“Why would I want a kiss? All I need is for you to get on your knees.”
“I’m more than happy to do so.” The sooner this was finished, the better. He crouched and unfastened the sailor’s uniform trousers. The flap in the front of his drawers gave access to a spindly cock that reared out at him like a snake.
He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the damn thing as he sucked it in. For God and country, he joked to keep from biting the offensive appendage that swelled larger in the warmth of his mouth. And for Cyril, who must be protected. It was Jody’s fault Cyril was in the sort of trouble that could make him forfeit all the money he’d counted on for his future. If they’d never met, if Jody had never seduced him, Cyril would have continued his serene bachelor life, tending orchids and playing cribbage with his friends.
Longbow gripped Jody’s head, forcing him onto his cock.
Jody gagged, drew back, snatched a breath, and resumed sucking, focusing on the hard, cold floor under his knees and the creaks and groans of the ship. He comforted himself with the thought this would be over soon and he’d be about his business, none the worse for wear.
But for the first time ever, he was having a hard time nonchalantly going through the motions. Anger throbbed in him with every thrust of that repulsive cock. He could scarcely breathe, and his heart beat too fast. The need to get free of Longbow’s rough hands controlling his head overcame him. If he didn’t escape this little room and the man dominating him, he feared he’d suffer an attack of angina.
When Jody struggled, it only served to inspire Longbow’s lust. He muttered something about teaching Jody a lesson about sodomy, withdrew his cock, pushed Jody facedown on the floor, and clawed at his trousers.
A fine trick if he’s able to get them down since the buttons are in front, Jody thought as if observing from a distance. I suppose I should help if we’re going to get through this. Heaving a sigh, he reached beneath himself to unfasten the buttons, then wriggled his hips free of both trousers and drawers.
Longbow gave a strangled cry at the sight of his bare arse. Without any preparation, he straddled Jody and began to push at him.
Jody tried to slow him down. “Look, if you’ll just—”
“Shut up!”
Sharp pain exploded in Jody’s head as Longbow grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his forehead against the floor. His cheek pressed into the gritty surface, and he saw stars for a moment. Then he focused on a particular clump of dust shaped rather like a kitten as Longbow tried again to fuck him.
The supply closet door slammed open.
Longbow’s weight lifted as he scrambled off Jody’s prone body.
Jody rolled to his side, heart careening wildly out of control. They’d been caught in the act—a much graver offense than the kissing incident with Cyril! Men could be tried and imprisoned for sodomy.
Pull yerself together, lad! Lassiter’s voice ordered.
Jody sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the person silhouetted in the doorframe. He didn’t need to see the man’s face to recognize Cyril. As Cyril entered the room, weak light slanted across his face. His expression was as crushed as that of a boy who’d brought home a stray dog only to have the animal taken away and killed in front of him. In the next instant, his features shifted to the mask of aloof command ingrained in the upper class.
“Mr. Longbow. I’ve reconsidered our bargain and decline to pay,” Cyril announced.
Longbow’s earlier puffed-up outrage shrank like his willie, which he quickly put away. “You know I can ruin your good name.”
“As you have no proof whatsoever of your outrageous claims, I highly doubt your word would stand against mine. Anything I might choose to share with your superiors about your conduct would cause far greater ruination. Whom do you believe has the greater power between the pair of us?”
In that shabby room in the bowels of a grand vessel of the British realm, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Lord Cyril Belmont’s words trumped those of Third Mate Charles Longbow in spades.
“You wouldn’t. What could you tell the captain without dragging your own name through the mud?”
“I might say I caught you in the act of rifling through my things and later discovered precious items had gone missing.” He paused. “Or I could mention I observed you watching several virtuous young ladies with a lascivious expression. I might even suggest you made unwanted advances toward my newly hired valet, a young man of impeccable credentials and modest upbringing.” Cyril nodded toward Jody, who’d clothed himself and now sat on his heels, watching this impressive display of haughty power.
“I might say anything I liked, Mr. Longbow, and have you sacked as easy as that.” He snapped his fingers and stared icily at the diminished third mat
e. “Do you doubt it?”
Apparently, Third Mate Longbow did not. His gaze dropped as he buttoned his uniform jacket. “You wouldn’t dare lie.”
“Not so long as you do not dare to tell the truth, particularly the part where you forced my valet to perform sexual services against his will.”
Jody swallowed and tasted Longbow’s musk lingering on his tongue.
“Mr. Smith?”
“Yes, sir,” Jody croaked.
“Please await me outside while I finish my discussion with Mr. Longbow.”
Jody nodded dumbly and hurried to obey. What in the world was possibly left for Cyril to say to the man? Clearly, he’d won the fight.
Jody listened from the corridor.
“I will add one more caution,” Cyril said. “If some thought of revenge crawls its way out of your maggot-eaten brain, I recommend you squash it. Whatever power you may imagine you have will always be less than mine. I am related by blood to the royal family, and no hint of stain on any member will ever be tolerated. You would suffer dire consequences in the attempt. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Longbow muttered.
“Very good.” Cyril added, “Be on notice that Mr. Smith is under my protection. You will not talk to him, touch him, or even think of him again.”
Then came the icing on the cake. From inside the room emerged a sound Jody recognized well from many bouts of fisticuffs—flesh hitting flesh. A sharp gasp was followed by a yip of pain.
Inside, Jody cheered. Cyril had protected and stood up for him, something no one in his life had ever done. Joyful triumph and admiration filled his eyes with a shimmer of tears.
Cyril stalked from the room and stopped at the sight of Jody. His disappointment and dismay were palpable, and his silence spoke volumes.
Jody’s elation plummeted. He might explain and apologize, but he could never scrub the image of Longbow fucking him from Cyril’s mind. Jody had considered it an expedient move, but Cyril was romantic enough to take such an act personally and feel betrayed.