The Englor Affair (8 page)

Simon moved forward, mesmerized by the suds slipping over the pale smooth back.

He strolled silently toward the shower nozzle just on the other side of the low tile wall.

The closer he got, the better the view became. The soap bubbles slid down the shallow indention of the man’s lower back and oozed over the nicest round arse Simon had ever seen. His breath caught. The kid was exquisite, with legs fairly long for his size, even if he barely reached Simon’s shoulder.

It also occurred to Simon that those slim limbs were going to be sore tomorrow.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, in fact, in places it was easy to see his ribs. As fragile looking as he was, it didn’t seem possible that he worked out on a regular basis.

Maybe Simon should offer a rubdown. The thought of his hands on that sleek body, massaging the pert little arse, had his balls drawing up. Simon had the insane longing to trace those ridges with his tongue. He was pretty sure his prick was leaking on the front of his towel, but he couldn’t feel it because of the steam.
Bloody hell.
He was so close he could reach out and touch. Would the milky skin feel as soft as it looked? His empty hand tightened into a fist, then relaxed.

The kid dropped his hand and leaned forward, hanging his head under the water.

Simon noticed a bandage on his left shoulder, right above his sharp shoulder blade. He was hurt?

Simon frowned and set his shampoo and shower gel down on the wall. “What happened to your shoulder?”

“Ack!” The beauty sucked in a harsh breath and spun around, his left hand, complete with soapy washcloth, slapped to his narrow chest. His ebony hair was slicked back with the water. The already big yellow eyes got bigger. He darted a glance at the towel on the wall and then at the shower room door before looking back to Simon.

Simon grinned. Damn, the man was even more beautiful up close. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

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J.L. Langley

A hank of black hair slid down over his forehead as he bobbed his head, and his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. His washcloth hand inched toward his groin and his other arm came across his chest. It was adorable, like he was trying to hide himself.

Simon couldn’t help himself. His gaze followed the rag, down the trail of dark hair, past the bony hipbones, over the dark curls, to the thick limp cock, before the white sudsy washcloth covered most of the black hair at his groin and the nice prick. The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Simon was willing to bet his cock was fairly long when erect. Raising his gaze, he smiled. “What happened to your shoulder?”

“Um…” Reaching back with his right hand, the man touched the spot then crossed it over his chest again. He dropped his hand further to cover his middle. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hand. Finally, he just let it hang at his side. A nice blush spread over his face and neck as he shrugged. “I got stabbed by a foil while fencing with a friend.” The last word lilted a little, making it almost sound like a question. “Um.” He caught his bottom lip in his teeth. “I’m Payton.” He held out his hand, palm facing down, before turning it sideways.

Simon chuckled.
Payton.
It was a good name, it fit him, elegant. Simon captured Payton’s offered hand and didn’t let go. “I’m Si.”

“Sai? As in the weapon?” Payton’s voice was soft, drawing out the “I” like a caress.

Simon fought the urge to moan. Payton would probably sound incredible in the heat of passion. His voice was soft, not very deep, but it had a seductive quality to it. Simon cleared his throat and nodded. “No, as in Simon, but I like that.” He didn’t think Payton had any clue who he was, and if he did he didn’t show it. For some reason Simon didn’t want him to. He wanted to get to know Payton without him wigging out about Simon being a prince or the colonel in charge of the base. He’d never really cared before, but there was something about this angelic-looking man that made him want to be just an average guy.

Payton tugged his hand back, making Simon finally have to release it. “Nice to meet you, Si.” His gaze traveled over Simon’s body. He licked his lips, then jerked his head 52

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The Englor Affair

back up when he reached Simon’s towel. His yellow eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head, and his Adam’s apple bobbed again.

Some inner demon inside Simon cheered. Oh yes, Payton was definitely as interested as he was.

“I thought I was alone. You gave me a start.”

Uncaring about his very large, very evident erection, Simon pulled his towel off and laid it on the wall.

Payton hissed in a breath and tried to cover the noise by turning around toward his own shower. “I need to hurry and get back to my quarters, but it was nice meeting you.”

Quarters? Not barracks. He was an officer. Simon gave Payton’s arse one more glance and focused on his own shower. He pushed the button below the nozzle. “One hundred and two.” The water came on, making him flinch. It was nice and hot, felt good.

“Sorry for scaring you, Payton. How about I make it up to you? How about a drink?”
Or
a nice long fuck?

Payton pushed the button on his own shower, shutting the water off, and grabbed his towel off the wall, but not before Simon caught a glimpse of a nice erect prick reaching toward Payton’s navel.

Simon grinned. He was right, it was long and fairly thick. Payton wasn’t small all over it would seem.

Still holding onto the wet washcloth, Payton wrapped the towel around his hips, not even bothering to dry off. The adorable blush remained on his face and neck, but was now spreading over his shoulders. “I—” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I can’t, but thank you for the offer.”

Damn.
A lump formed in Simon’s stomach, his cock shrinking a tad. “How ab—?”

“I’ve really got to go. It was nice meeting you.” Payton’s voice trailed off as he darted for the exit, his bare wet feet slapping on the tile.

Well, bloody hell and damnation.
Simon groaned.
What had he done wrong? Payton was definitely interested. Maybe he’d never— O
h.
What if the kid was still deluding himself that he was straight? Simon frowned, then shrugged.

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No way was Payton straight, with that kid-in-a-candy-store look he’d worn earlier, or the nice once-over he’d given Simon, but maybe he was extremely shy. He
was
shy, that was obvious, but not straight.

He peered down at his cock, which stuck straight up toward his belly. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight.” He grabbed the bottle of soap off the ledge and poured some into his hand. Wrapping his hand around his length, he stroked upward. Oh yes, that was good. Imagining long, slender, elegant fingers gripping him instead of his own large calloused hand, he set up a steady rhythm.

Closing his eyes, Simon braced himself on the wall in front of him with his left hand.

His balls drew tighter and his breath hitched. He pictured that round arse and Payton’s soft voice begging. That dark head bent over his lap would be a hell of a sight. He wondered if Payton would blush while sucking cock.
Probably.
And dust wasn’t that a pretty picture.

Simon’s heart sped up along with his breathing and his hand
.
His red pubes would look dark against Payton’s ivory little arse as he drove into Payton. “Oh fuck.” This wasn’t going to take long. Hot water continued to pour down over him and steam surrounded him. The slapping sound of flesh on flesh echoed in the empty room.
His
hands speared through dark wet hair as he thrust into swollen pink lips. Those big yellow
eyes looked up at him as the perfect rounded nose buried in Simon’s curls.

His arse clenched tight and a tingle raced up his spine. Simon’s eyes flew open.

Creamy white semen covered his hand and splashed on his stomach before washing away in the hot water. Simon groaned and let go, forcing his breathing to go back to normal.

Releasing his cock, he flattened both hands on the wall in front of him. “Bloody hell.” Simon sighed. Tomorrow night he’d come later. Hopefully he could catch Payton by himself again. He grinned. It appeared he needed to coax the shy beauty a bit harder next time. This was going to be fun. Payton was his, whether he realized it or not.

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“You’re late, is everything all right?” Dru stood on the porch of Blake House in a dark green riding habit and ermine collared tan coat.

Simon winced. He hadn’t meant to worry her. He and Dru had started Monday morning rides three years ago whenever he was on planet and weather permitted. In that time, he had never been late. “My apologies. I moved back to the base for a few weeks.”

Swinging down from Cirilo, he offered her his hand.

“Why ever would you do that?” She wrinkled her nose as she took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the mounting block where her horse, Cleopatra, waited. “Is there something wrong with Hollister House?”

“No. Hollister House is fine. Minus a few less servants, but fine.” His townhouse also lacked an amenity the base currently had. A pretty little raven-haired officer named Payton. But unfortunately, that particular feature didn’t come standard with Simon’s office either.

Dru giggled. “You really need to lay off the pranks, darling.”

“Me?” Simon waited for her to step up on the block. “It’s not me. You need to talk to Wycliffe and Roc.”

Settling herself into the sidesaddle, Dru rearranged her skirt and coat. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you’re completely innocent.” The ivory-colored feather on her cap fell into her eyes and she shook her head to dislodge it.

Simon chuckled and slapped a hand to his chest with flare. “I’m wounded.”

“Nonsense. Get on your horse and take me for a ride in the park, you silly man. It’s a beautiful day. I don’t want to waste it. We aren’t likely to have many more like it.” She collected her reins and steered her pretty bay horse forward to stand by Cirilo.

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As Simon climbed into his saddle, Dru tsked. “Is that the best you can do? As dramatic as you are this morning, I half expected you to vault into the saddle from behind.”

“You don’t think I can?” If he weren’t sore from sleeping on the couch in his office, he’d have been tempted to try it just to amuse her.

“Si, I’ve known you long enough to know you can do anything you put your mind to.

I’ve always admired that about you.”

He hoped she was correct, because out of the several things he wanted at the present, Payton was likely to be the easiest to obtain and Simon wasn’t sure that task would be all that easy.

“Ready?”

Studying the gray clouds, Simon secured his uniform cape tighter around himself.

Thankfully, it wasn’t that cold today, but the forecast predicted bad weather tonight. Dru was probably right, it had been a mild winter so far, they may not get much more riding in for awhile and he needed to talk to her. “I’m ready. Lead the way, Your Grace.”

Dru flicked her reins to get Cleo moving. “Tell me why you’re staying in those horrid accommodations. I know it’s not something you’d do unless something dire had happened, so what is going on?”

“I can’t get anything past you, can I?” Simon grinned. He loved that about her. She had always been sharp and forward. She’d also turned into an exquisite woman as he’d predicted. Until last night, he’d never seen anyone, woman or man, who compared to her.

“Actually, I’m glad you asked.” Talking to Dru would get his mind off Payton. “I wanted to speak to you about it.”

“Me?” Clasping a gloved hand to her chest, she turned her head toward him then back to the front, making the long feather on her cap land over her left eye again. She blew at the feather, but it didn’t leave her forehead. “I assure you I had nothing to do with you being booted out of Hollister House.” Grinning, she finally batted the feather away.

“Stupid hat.”

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It
was
a ridiculous-looking hat, with its wide brim, shallow crown and the enormous matching green bow tied under her chin. It looked like a top hat someone had sat on, but it was the height of fashion.

Smirking, Simon turned Cirilo toward the Stanhope Gate. “Now who’s being silly? I know why I’m sleeping in my office. I’m staying there to make certain things run smoothly with Admiral Hawkins here.”
And hopefully to get close to a handsome new
officer.
“What I want to know is if you have any gossip on the admiral.”

“Darling, I always have gossip.” She snorted. “It’s amazing how many people try to share gossip with me to get in my good graces.” And Dru was cunning enough to use that gossip to her advantage, listening to anything that would guide her investments. She may have married a wealthy man, but after his death she doubled his fortune.

“Well? What is the ton saying about Hawkins?”

As they entered the gate several gentlemen called out hellos.

“Good morning.” Dru fluttered her fingers at them. “Deverell. The admiral is the Earl of Deverell.”

Simon tipped his hat to Lords Rumpledust and Turner. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Let’s ride around the Serpentine, then we can walk a little before we go down Rotten Row.” She pointed toward the walk closest to them. “My understanding is that Lord Deverell is primarily here to inspect the base. Do you think differently?”

“No. He’s definitely here for that. I was just wondering what else you’ve heard about him.”

“He ran away from home to join the IN nearly twenty years ago. There was a duel over a Lady Appleton, only she was Lady Seagraves then. Supposedly Deverell killed her fiancé and the duke disowned him. Although to hear Hawthorne tell it, he never disowned his son. Hawthorne is quite proud of Deverell.”

Simon had heard all of that about the admiral. “Something doesn’t sound right.” If Hawthorne didn’t disown his son, why hadn’t the admiral been back to Englor in all those years? There was more to the duel than people knew. It gave Simon hope that maybe it www.samhainpublishing.com 57