Indulgence 2: One Glimpse (26 page)

Sam picked at his trousers, trying to stay still, to not launch himself at John and wrap his arms around his neck like a fool. Could he believe what he was hearing? John had looked for him, wanted to spend time with him? Wanted to enjoy being alone with him?

“Lord, you really do think loudly, don’t you?” There was something wistful in John’s voice that made Sam look up. The way John stared at him, his eyes so intense they seemed to peer deeper into him with each second, left Sam breathless. John slid closer and placed his hand over Sam’s twisting fingers.

“I have somewhere we can go,” John whispered, “where we can be alone. It’s safe.”

Sam’s hearing went fuzzy. Maybe if he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, he wouldn’t wake up from the perfect dream. After too many seconds, John swallowed hard and lifted his hand.

“If you want to, I mean,” he muttered. “If you don’t, I und—”

Sam snatched John’s hand back and pulled it greedily against his chest. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

John unleashed a smile that sent shudders down Sam’s spine. John’s eyes danced, and he looked for all the world like a schoolboy who had just been given a free day. Such excitement and joy, and all of it for Sam. His eyes began to prickle.

For God’s sake, don’t ruin this!

“Tonight?” John said.

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice.

John palmed the back of Sam’s head as he leaned over him. The kiss was softer this time, slower, and so sloppily inexperienced that Sam wanted to laugh with joy. When John’s tongue slipped down almost to Sam’s chin, he couldn’t hold back an amused snort.

“What?” John said against his lips, smiling.

“You are a terrible kisser,” Sam blurted, then slapped a hand over his own stupid grin.

“Oh?” John laughed, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Should I stop, then? I wouldn’t want to inflict anything terrible on you.”

“Ha!” Sam let up a joyous laugh, for who could resist that easy charm staring down at him from gold-speckled eyes? He took John’s face in both hands and kissed him, groaning hungrily when John opened to him without hesitation.

They were both breathing hard when Sam pulled back, sliding his hands down to John’s shoulders.

“Meet me at Park Square under Regent’s tonight?” John said, whispering again. “Do you know it?”

The little square of lawn just south of Regent’s Park. Yes, Sam knew it. “What time?”

“Seven? We can walk from there, it’s isn’t far. I…I wouldn’t want to risk your coachman thinking anything odd.”

“No, that’s good. Walking is fine.”

John released a breath as if relieved. He pulled back the curtain and surveyed the street outside. “We’re almost to Pall Mall. Have your man let me down here.”

Sam sighed but accepted the parting, knowing they would be together later. He retrieved his cane from the floor where he had dropped it and tapped the roof with the stop signal his driver knew. They slowed, and Sam opened the curtains on his side.

John retrieved his hat from the opposite seat. “Seven?” he said again, and stroked Sam’s knee below the view of the window.

“Seven.” Sam smiled back.

They could say nothing more when the footman opened the door and pulled down the folding step. Or so Sam thought. As John shuffled past, bent over in the small space, he turned his back to the footman and whispered so softly that Sam read his lips more than heard him, “I can’t wait to be with you.”

Then he was gone, making a loud farewell as he went. Sam fell back into his seat and tried to catch his breath, but it was no use. As soon as the carriage pulled away again, he threw his head back and clenched his fists in silent joy. He wanted to shout; he wanted to stomp his feet; he wanted to act the biggest damn fool in the world! John wanted him, and Sam knew—he could feel it in his bones—that his desire for John went further than his statuesque body and handsome face. So much further. John was kind and intelligent, and had a playful side that Sam never would have expected and which left him aching for what might happen later that night.

And maybe this time it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe this time, if the Fates finally decided to smile on him, the man he loved would love him back.

Chapter Thirteen

Trust

It was easy to be suspicious of good fortune. That was why John arrived at Park Square dreading that Sam would not be there. When John saw him standing next to a wrought-iron fence in the gloom of a nearby lamp, he almost groaned with relief. Sam was dressed in fine evening wear as if going to the theater, and John smiled as he wondered what ruse he had concocted when he left his house.

“I’m afraid I’m not dressed for good company,” John said as he approached.

Sam whirled around, smiling. It was one of his wide, dimpled smiles that made John’s fingers itch to touch him. But his eyes were anxious, as if guarding his own relief.

“Were you afraid I wouldn’t come?” John whispered, stepping close.

Sam’s expression turned guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was worried too.” John stepped even closer. The square was dark, lit only by the few oil lamps hung outside the houses nearby. He knew he shouldn’t, but he reached out and brushed his fingers across Sam’s cheek. It was so intimate a part of him cringed away from the act, but Sam didn’t recoil or give him a strange look. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned his face into the touch.

Again John felt that ache in his chest, anticipation and apprehension together. He had never been intimate with anyone, not if intimacy was defined as more than desperate physical release. He had experienced plenty of that with the hired men whose faces he could hardly recall.

John lowered his hand reluctantly. “Let’s go.”

They turned toward the lane next to the main park. It was already dark, but they were in a peaceful part of the city with hired watches on every block. Still, John kept his eyes on the dark doorways and side lanes as they passed. It was strange how they walked in silence, for there was something comfortable it. As if the strangeness was in the fact that it did not feel strange. John shook away the ridiculous thought. Perhaps it was only comfortable to him.

“Did you set aside an engagement tonight?” John asked, breaking the silence for Sam.

“Mmm?” Sam followed John’s gaze to his clothes. “No. My household thinks I’m spending the evening at Vauxhall.” Sam made a face at the name and laughed.

“What? You don’t like the gardens?”

“I’ve never been there. A little too fashionable for my set.”

“It’s amusing. You should go,” John said, holding his hand stubbornly to his side as they reached the next lane and turned south. “The music is repetitive, and the food isn’t very interesting unless you have a love of strawberries. But walking the paths at night is entertaining.”

Sam chuckled. “Entertaining for courting couples looking for a trysting place. I think you can guess I have never been among them.”

They stepped into a length of darkness between houselights, and John leaned in close. “If you go with me sometime, we’ll try to make the trysting places of use to you.”

Sam shot him a scandalized smile. Of course they both knew doing anything of the sort would be foolhardy, but the idea was worth imagining. They walked two more blocks in that strangely comfortable silence until John slowed at a side lane and directed them to a back gate. It was so dark only the moonlight hitting the roof eves above outlined their path. Once they reached the fence, John produced a large iron key and turned it in the lock.

“What is this place?” Sam whispered after John closed the gate behind them and they moved across the small lawn.

John hesitated at the kitchen door he had unlocked earlier that day. It was stupid, but he suddenly felt unsure about bringing Sam to this house. He opened the door and ushered Sam into the kitchen. Sam hesitated when he saw an oil lamp already lit on the table.

“It’s all right. I was here earlier. I didn’t want us stumbling in the dark.” John bolted the door before saying, “I own this house. Lily lives here.”

“This is your mistress’s house?” Sam said, looking over the room.

“Yes. I understand if you don’t want to be here, but I thought it would be—”

“John.” Sam touched his arm. “It’s perfect. Where is everyone?”

“Lily is visiting a friend in Richmond who’s taken ill. I gave the staff a holiday.” John snorted a laugh. “Well, it would be better to say I ordered them away from the house with pay.”

“When? Today?”

John hesitated again, but remembering Sam’s hungry kisses in the carriage made him happy to make the admission. “No. Three days ago. I sent a message before I left Mosley’s. I was hoping you would join me here.”

Sam looked away. “Really? I thought you would be angry at me, at least for leaving.”

John took the oil lamp in one hand and Sam’s gloveless hand in the other. “No. Follow me.”

Outside the glow of the lamp, the house was pitch-black and silent. It was awkward moving up the stairs with both hands occupied, but he refused to give up the warmth of Sam’s fingers curled against his palm. He had known him barely two weeks, and yet John felt as if he had been waiting for this his whole life.

They reached the bedroom, and John reluctantly released Sam’s hand to open the door. The room was already cast in light from the hearth fire he had set earlier.

“You’ve had a busy evening.” Sam gave him a sly smile.

I wanted everything to be perfect.
John didn’t say it. He set down the lamp and removed his cloak, laying it over a chair before the fire. When he turned, Sam had already removed his greatcoat. He looked splendid in his evening attire.

“Did you dress for me?” John asked on a hunch.

“No,” Sam said too quickly.

Ah.
John grinned, unable to help himself. And why should he? There was no reason to hold back. “No? That’s too bad. I was hoping to take credit for such a fine sight.”

The room was too awash in firelight to see Sam’s blush, but John knew it was there.

“I wanted to look well,” Sam said with a shrug.

He was bashful. As much as John loved it and wanted to tease him mercilessly, he had to take pity this time. He crossed to where Sam stood at the foot of the bed and ran his fingers along the smooth lapel of Sam’s waistcoat.

Sam’s lips twitched. “I could have worn something like your country clothes.”

“Are you mocking my old suits?” John circled his finger around a silken button.

“No. Just marveling at how those ancient things don’t fall to pieces on you.” Sam’s voice wavered, but that playfulness John had glimpsed only a few times was showing itself. He wondered what he would have to do to drag it out further.

“In that case, I’m sorry you don’t have anything similar in your wardrobe. It would be much easier to expose every inch of you with only
threadbare
clothes in my way.”

Sam laughed, still turning his face in that bashful manner that had John aching already. A few of the whores he had been with over the years had tried to play coy and sheepish, and he had hated it. With Sam, he loved it. It was real and felt like a wrapping he could enjoy pulling back, layer by layer.

He slid his hand down Sam’s front, over the textured silk and under his coat to his waist. Sam leaned into the touch just as John kissed his temple. Then down to the high spot just below his eye and over the curve of his ear.

Finally.
“I’m so glad you wore this,” John said, running his hand back around to Sam’s front.

“What? This?” Sam gasped when John licked his earlobe. “This waistcoat?”

“Mm-mm. I remember it from the concert. It matches your eyes exactly. Dark green, like emeralds. Do you remember?”

John had no idea why he was talking like this. Such sentiments could push Sam away if all he wanted from their time together was pleasure. That thought, unwelcome and sudden, made John’s stomach flip. No. Sam would not have risked what he did at Mosley’s house if all he wanted was sex.

“Emeralds,” Sam scoffed, or tried to.

“Yes. Emeralds.” John unfastened one of the silken buttons on Sam’s waistcoat. Then more, one after another, while he nuzzled past Sam’s collar and pressed kisses over his warm skin.

Sam hummed and tilted his head to the side, giving John better access. He took full advantage and became so immersed in the salty musk of Sam’s skin that he did not even notice Sam undressing him until he felt a tug on his waistband.

“Careful.” John chuckled. “I’m already so close you’ll make me humiliate myself.”

Sam tugged again, this time meeting John’s gaze with a look of pure mischief.

Oh, yes, that’s what I want to see.

John unfastened the last button and slid both hands under and up to Sam’s shoulders, pushing back the waistcoat and coat. Sam dropped his arms and allowed the garments to slide to the floor. John attacked the cravat next, pulling it free while he trailed kisses around Sam’s ear.

“Your turn,” Sam gasped as he finished the last of John’s buttons. A few moments later saw them both in shirtsleeves, cravats pulled free and tossed to the floor. Sam put his arms over John’s shoulders and tilted his face up. In one swift motion, John wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and pulled him into a deep, roving kiss. With their bodies pressed tight against each other, he felt Sam’s cock pressed hard against his hip. A fuzzy memory of Sam looking up at him with swollen lips flashed behind his eyes.

“I want to taste you,” John said as he broke the kiss. He dropped to his knees and worked to unfasten the buttons of Sam’s breeches.

Sam sucked in a startled breath but didn’t say anything. When John looked up at him, it was to meet wide green eyes glazed over with amazement.

John unfastened the last button, ignoring his pulse pounding in his ears. He had never done this before. He had never wanted to, but damned if he hadn’t spent the last four days thinking about it until his mouth watered. Holding his breath, he pulled down the fall of Sam’s breeches and wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock.

Perfect.
It was all John could think as he wrapped his fingers around the length and pushed down hot, silken skin to reveal the pinkest flesh he had ever seen. A line of pearly moisture ran from the head to the skin of Sam’s belly where it had touched. No longer thinking, John swirled his tongue through the line and sucked the spongy head past his lips.