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Authors: Kate Pearce

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BOOK: The Sinners Club
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She'd never forgotten the horror and humiliation of that day. Of the loud angry voices, the threat of violence, her mother weeping and being left sitting in the rain out on the pavement with all their possessions strewn around them. She'd been the one to make her mother move on, to walk away from their old home with as much dignity as they could muster.
“You rented rooms in the same house?”
“Simon's mother owned the house, and she rented the room to us. My mother was very frail and spent most of her time in bed.”
“She couldn't work?”
“She—did her best. Simon took me under his wing, and helped me make enough money for us to get by.” She raised her gaze to his face. “He also protected me from other men.”
“You were eleven.”
“I was very pretty and there are men who prefer younger flesh.”
“And Simon protected you.”
“Yes, until I was old enough to make my own choices and become financially independent.” He nodded, but didn't comment, which surprised her, and enabled her to continue with more confidence. “When I was fourteen, I was introduced to the Earl of Storr.”
“Ah, did he ask you to come and live with him?”
“He did.”
“And you refused to go alone?”
“I insisted that Simon come with me.” She forced a smile. “It seemed safer that way. It was the earl who suggested we pretend to be siblings. He thought it would make it easier for us in the village.”
“But in fact, it's made things more complicated. Half the village and all of the gentry suspect you of carrying your own brother's child.”
“But now you know that isn't true, and can tell your employer so.”
“I know that you aren't carrying your brother's child, but are you carrying Simon's?”
She raised her chin. “I am not carrying his child. I will swear it on the family Bible if you insist.”
His smile was skeptical. “Why should I believe that?”
“Because it is the truth!”
“He does fuck you, though.”
“Occasionally.”
“As did the earl?”
“He was my husband.”
“Eventually. Did he marry you to protect the estate from George Mainwaring?”
“His reasons were his own. I simply did as he asked me.”
“Why?”
To her surprise he looked genuinely interested. “Because he gave me and Simon a home.”
“Even though that home came with conditions?”
She looked down at her hands. “We were willing to pay the price.”
“You
were willing.” His faint smile died. “At fourteen, no one should have to make that choice.”
“Are you feeling sorry for me?”
“Who wouldn't?”
She rose and glided over to him, rolling her hips like a wanton. “Have I satisfied your curiosity now, Mr. Smith? Are you going to hurry back to Simon and fuck him again?”
“He needs to sleep. He'll be too sore.” He looked up at her, his head resting on the back of the chair. “I'd much rather fuck you.”
“Why, when you have found my brother so willing and so complacent?”
“Because I prefer women?”
“One would never guess it.” She placed her hands on the wings of his chair, caging him in and giving him the perfect view of her breasts. “Although even as a woman I found the sight of you mastering Simon quite stimulating.”
He reached out and cupped her breast. “I like fucking, my lady, in all its glorious, messy, filthy ways. I like making people cry out and scream and come for me. I enjoy it even more when they reciprocate.”
“And what about love, Mr. Smith?”
He raised his eyebrows. “What does that have to do with fucking?”
“Doesn't it change how you ‘fuck'?”
“I don't know. I've never been in love. It seems a remarkably uncomfortable experience that almost never turns out well.” He squeezed her breast. “Do you love Simon, then?”
“If I loved him, would I be here with you now?”
“Possibly. I think you are like me and perfectly capable of splitting off fucking from loving.”
“I love him as a brother. I'm not in love with him.”
“Ah, that makes perfect sense.” He undid the ribbons at the front of her robe. “Why do you still have that damn corset on?”
“Because I am vain enough not to want to be seen in my present condition by the man I am trying to seduce.”
She gasped as he pinched her nipples. “I thought I was seducing you?”
She reached for the sash of his robe and undid it, spreading the heavy satin wide to reveal the perfection of his body and the thick shaft of his cock.
He cupped his balls. “Do you want this?”
She walked over to her bed and climbed up on it. “I want you behind me and I don't want you to be gentle.”
“Are you sure?”
She settled on her knees and looked back at him over her shoulder. He'd shed his robe and was naked. His thumb glided over the wetness gathering at the crown of his cock.
“Yes.”
“With your corset on.”
“Yes.”
He moved behind her and pulled up her shift, one hand resting on the lacing of her corset. “If you weren't with child, we could play a very interesting game where I keep tightening your laces while I fuck you until you come close to unconsciousness. I understand it heightens one's climax remarkably.”
“Perhaps another time.”
She sighed as he pressed the head of his cock against her folds and slid deep. Bracing herself on one hand, she stroked her already swollen bud. His arm curved around her hips, holding her steady for the increasing power of his short thrusts.
“I want your arse, too. May I have it?”
“Simon's was not enough for you?” She managed to gasp out the words even as her first climax hit.
“I want yours. I'm a greedy man.” He bit down on her shoulder, and she shuddered into another spasm of pleasure. “I'll take anything I can get.” He pressed deep and held himself there. “I want you both at the same time. I want to see you full of our cocks.”
He chuckled as she shivered and spasmed around his shaft. “You want that, too, don't you? Think of all the permutations we could try together.”
“Oh
God ...”
He pulled out and she cried out at the loss of him but he took her hand and pressed it against her wide-open entrance. “Use your fingers while I fuck your arse.”
“Oil,” she gasped.
“I have it.”
She shivered as the cold oil dripped onto her warm skin and his finger penetrated her arse. “Not that, I want your cock there, now.”
“I'm too big.” He bit her ear. “Let me—”
“No, do it, take me, make me feel every inch of you possessing me there.”
“Mary...”
“Please.”
She arched her back and felt the far thicker presence of his oiled cock at her entrance. He probed the tight ring of her arse hole and she gradually gave way, allowing him to press and press again and work his way inside her. He felt huge, like a man's fist.
She groaned as he retreated then pushed in a little more; each inch felt like a mile, each small gain sending her forward onto her embedded fingers. He rocked again, another inch, and then another, widening her beyond her dreams, his cock impaling her again and again, a huge presence that she craved and feared at the same time.
His fingers joined hers in her cunt. She moaned as he stroked his cock through her tightly stretched walls connecting the two spaces, making her come so hard she had to close her eyes. When she opened them again he was fully inside her, a thick, hot presence that made her want to moan out loud.
“That's good,” she managed to whisper.
“My cock in your arse? It's damned good, and a tight fit.”
She couldn't help but squirm down on him making his breath hitch. “I've always wondered whether a woman could take two men inside her.”
“Or three.”
“What do you mean?”
“Arse, cunt, and mouth.” He bit down on her throat. “I'd love to see you like that.”
“Mmm.” She touched her clit and shivered. “But what about two men in one space?”
He went very still. “I've seen it done. In truth, I've participated. You'd like that?”
“Was it with a woman or a man?”
“Both.”
“Oh.” Inside her, his cock jerked and seemed to fill out even more. “I think I'd like to try it at least once.”
“Dammit, Mary, I—” He started to come, and she smiled and gave in to the pleasure herself, glad that for once she'd been the one to push him into climaxing. It was unusual to find herself in the role of supplicant, and yet she'd almost enjoyed it. She'd begun to think of men as interchangeable pawns that she could dominate at will, but Jack wouldn't allow that at all. It was unsettling and arousing at the same time.
When he'd finally finished, he rolled them both over until she was pressed against his chest and he was on his back. His eyes were closed and his breathing started to even out. Mary nudged him.
“You have to go. I can't have the servants finding you here in the morning.”
He opened his eyes, the vivid blue startling against the white of her linen. “Give me a moment.”
She elbowed him again. “No, because you'll fall asleep. All men are the same.” To aid his departure, she moved away from him and found his robe. “Here you are.”
He slid off the bed and tied the sash of the robe. “You do realize this falls into the category of just fucking, don't you?”
Her warm glow of satisfaction cooled. “You can hardly imagine I'm falling in love with you?”
“Of course not. I'm more worried that you think you might influence my opinions by pretending to be everything a man could want in his bed.”
“Pretending
to be?”
“There's no need to take offense.” He didn't look up as he tied a neat bow. “You are an excellent bed partner, but you know that already.”
Mary moved over to him and poked him hard in the chest. “I'm not as devious as you. Sometimes sex is just sex, not a plan to persuade someone else to do their will. Perhaps I should be asking myself why you
allowed
me to make love to you like that?”
“Perhaps you should. Good night, my lady.”
She let him leave without answering him. She was too afraid to. At least she hadn't blurted out the whole truth like her stupid brother. Had she made a terrible mistake by admitting him into her bed again, and sharing her desires with him? She had a sense that she had. What a pity she'd only remembered how manipulative he could be when it was too late....
9
J
ack packed a small valise with the essentials he would need for an overnight stay and contemplated the journey he was about to make to find Lord Keyes. Sunlight streamed in through his bedroom window and the sky for once was clear. He knew it wouldn't last and was glad he'd brought a heavy cloak to protect himself from the inevitable rain.
It was easier to think about Keyes than the night that had just passed. True, he'd had a series of extraordinary sexual encounters that made his cock stir just thinking about them. To his considerable disquiet, it was becoming harder and harder to simply
enjoy
his ill-thought-out deception and disassociate himself from the Picoults. He not only lusted after them both, but he
liked
them.
He placed a pair of folded cravats in his case. If he'd been in their shoes, and he was very aware that Mary Lennox had left out a lot of the grim details of her early life, he would've done the same thing
—had
done the same thing. Taken every advantage that was offered, and fought to find a place in the world for himself and his sister, real or not.
“Damnation!” Jack muttered as he stuffed a pair of wool stockings into the side pocket of the valise. Violet wouldn't approve of his actions at all. She'd always said his lighthearted attitude to his fellow man would get him into trouble one day. But she hadn't been left with their father, who'd taught Jack that nothing was forever and that there was always a new horizon, a new card trick to learn, a scheme to become rich.... It was no wonder he'd learned that life was a game of chance, and he viewed the world with a cynical eye.
By getting away from Pinchbeck Hall, and his fascination with the ever-resourceful Mary, he could at least sort out his thoughts and decide exactly what he wanted to do about the thorny matter of his inheritance. If the expected child was indeed the son of the last earl, then he deserved to accede to the title. Jack stared down at his possessions. How often had his clothes been the only things he'd owned? Just because he yearned for more, it didn't mean that he had to do it at someone else's expense.
He closed the valise and picked it up, relieved to see that unlike his father, he had some morals. On his trip with Simon he could try and find out more details of the Picoults' arrival at Pinchbeck Hall. He smiled. He could also share a bed with a very alluring man.
Simon was waiting for him in the hallway. As he came down the stairs, Jack remembered his first sight of him. Who would've imagined that the grim-faced man who'd practically hauled him into the Dowager Countess's presence would turn out to be such an engaging bed partner? Still waters truly did run deep, especially in Simon Picoult's case. All the same, he wondered what his reception would be after his unconscionable behavior during the previous night.
Simon turned around and Jack went still.
“Good morning, Mr. Picoult.”
“Mr. Smith. May I ask for a moment of your time?” A muscle twitched in Simon's jaw, and he jerked his head toward the open door of the steward's room.
“Certainly, Mr. Picoult.”
As soon as the door shut behind him, Jack was hauled up against the wall, Simon's hand around his throat.
“You
used
me.”
Jack didn't bother to fight back. “I know.”
“You took advantage of me when I was too far gone to do anything but agree with you and beg you to continue.”
“I
know.”
Jack met his lover's furious, wary gaze. “And I deserve to be shot for doing so.”
Simon's grip tightened and Jack started to cough.
“What's worse is, I'm sure you planned the whole damned thing.”
“I did,” he managed to gasp.
With one last contemptuous shove, Simon let go, and Jack collapsed back against the wall. “You aren't even going to try and defend yourself?”
“How can I? I did what I needed to get the information I required. Believe me, it was a last resort. I didn't think I'd get it any other way.”
“And the act itself meant nothing to you.”
“That's not true. I enjoyed every second.” Jack licked his lips. “Are you going to claim you hated it?”
Simon sighed. “I can't.”
“And if our positions had been reversed, would you not have tried to do the same thing?”
“Exploit your sexual weaknesses?” Simon looked away from Jack. “I suppose I might do that.”
“Then will you forgive me?” Jack came away from the wall. “I promise I will never use you like that again.” He sighed. “I mean it, Simon. I'll never even touch you again if that is what you want.”
Simon shook his head. “That's the trouble, Jack. I
want
you to touch me, but I don't want my nature used against me. Can you understand that?”
“Yes.” Jack held out his hand. “Friends?”
“Hardly that, but I'll forgive you.” Simon shook his hand. “Now, are you ready to leave for Lindsey St. Joan?”
With a huge sense of relief, Jack followed Simon toward the back of the house and the stables beyond. “Indeed I am. Have you taken leave of your sister?”
“I have. She said to send you her best wishes for a successful journey.”
“Considering the circumstances, that was remarkably kind of her.”
Simon's gaze slid sideways to meet Jack's. “She was a little tired this morning and decided to stay in bed.”
“I'm not surprised. In her condition she deserves all the rest she can get.”
Simon held the door open for Jack to pass through into the kitchen gardens. “I don't think it was the babe that tired her out.”
“Well, you did ask me to make sure she was feeling all right.”
“And was she?”
“I'm sure she told you exactly how she was feeling when you spoke to her this morning.”
They'd reached the stable yard, and Simon called out to one of the grooms to bring the horses round. Once their possessions were strapped onto the saddles and they were safely mounted, Jack led the way out under an archway toward the main driveway to the house. Simon caught up with him and they rode together.
“She was extremely angry with me for revealing the truth.”
“What a surprise.”
“She was even angrier with you for putting me in that position. Despite what I just told you, I told her I didn't blame you for using me. If I hadn't, she would've been after you with one of my pistols. And, devil take it, I enjoyed every second of it.” He looked down at the saddle and grimaced. “I'm probably too sore to be riding today.”
“Do you wish to turn back?”
“No, I rather like it.” Simon's smile was wry. “I can't help it.”
“If you are sure.”
“Oh, I'm sure.”
Jack clicked at his horse and tightened the reins. “Then let's increase our pace a little or we will never get there.”
A resigned groan was his only answer. He turned to smile at his companion. “If you keep up, I'll make sure you are well looked after tonight at the inn. I'm reputed to be very good with my hands and I have a lot to atone for.” He kicked his horse and was away, leaving Simon trailing in his wake.
 
Very early the next morning, Jack and Simon stood at the rusting, locked gates of Alford Park, which was reputed to be the original home of the Keyes family. From the road there was no sign of the actual house. The driveway was choked with weeds, and the trees, which hadn't been trimmed in years, met in the center, making a dark green, impenetrable tunnel.
“Are you sure someone still lives here?” Simon asked.
“So they said at the inn last night.” Jack studied the flint and stone wall that bordered the estate. “Are you willing to break a few rules of hospitality?”
“I assume you want me to go over the wall with you?”
“Yes, but if it offends your principles, you can stay here and keep watch.”
Simon was already advancing toward the six-foot-high wall. “I have no principles.”
“Neither do I.” Jack joined him in searching for a handhold in the rough-set stone.
“But you are so respectable.”
“Not at all.”
“But you depend on your employer for your living.”
Cursing his unruly tongue, Jack kept climbing. “I doubt he's going to hear about this, and if he does, he'd probably find the idea of his dull employee behaving so recklessly quite amusing. I believe you have corrupted me, Mr. Picoult.”
“I damn well hope so.”
They reached the top of the wall at the same moment and gazed down at the long grass on the other side.
“Let's hope the Keyes family doesn't use mantraps. We'll never spot them in this.”
“I don't hear any dogs either. Maybe it is our lucky day.”
“Or maybe this place really is deserted.” Jack jumped and landed safely on his feet. Simon did the same. Apart from the noise from some disturbed birds, nothing stirred to indicate their presence had been detected.
Jack checked the pistol in his pocket was loaded and then started to move forward. “Let's follow the line of the drive, but keep off it.”
“Agreed.”
Taking the more direct line meant that the shape of the main house came toward them more quickly than he'd expected. It was a low stone building that looked more like a ruined castle than a dwelling. On the edge of the copse of trees, Jack paused to wait for Simon to catch up.
“I think this is the side of the house,” he whispered. “Do you see any signs of life?”
Simon slowly inhaled. “I smell wood smoke from the chimneys and fresh manure. How about you?”
“The same, which means we aren't alone. Let's move a little closer.”
Keeping to the line of trees and overgrown bushes that skirted what had once been the more formal gardens of the estate, Jack headed toward a single-story building, which had the unmistakable aroma of a stable. The neigh of a horse and the shuffling of feet made him pause.
“At least one horse then. I wonder if it is Keyes's?”
“Which Keyes?”
That was twice in less than a day that he'd forgotten to stay in character as the stolid and dull Mr. Smith.
“Any Keyes. Aren't they supposed to live here?” He edged forward until he could see into the cobbled stable yard. “There's a rather nice hack in there and two or three work horses.”
The soft click of a pistol being armed was all the notice he got that they were no longer alone.
“Put your hands up.”
He and Simon turned slowly around to find a young woman aiming a serviceable pistol at them.
“What are you doing here?”
Jack smiled. “I do beg your pardon, ma'am. The gates were locked, and no one answered my knock at the front door. I was beginning to think the place deserted.”
“What do you want?”
The woman didn't lower the pistol an inch. She was dressed in an old-fashioned high-neck gown and her hair was bundled into an untidy coronet on the top of her head. Jack thought her to be about thirty and judging from her suspicious expression, he doubted she would be swayed by even his charms.
“I should introduce myself. I'm Mr. Jack Smith, the personal secretary of the Honorable John Lennox.”
“So?”
“My employer's solicitors asked me to pay a call on this estate to ascertain whether a Miss Malinda Keyes still lived here.”
“Why do they want to know?”
“I believe there is a matter of a small bequest for the lady from another client's will.”
“Do you have any proof of this?”
Jack pretended to look hurt. “My dear lady, of course I do. If you would just let me lower my hands and—”
“You.” The woman gesticulated at Simon. “Take out what he needs from his coat pocket.”
Jack met Simon's gaze. “The letter is in my right-hand pocket and my card is in my waistcoat pocket. I don't think we need anything else at present.” He didn't want Simon retrieving his pistol and making a difficult situation even worse.
Simon did as Jack asked him and, at the woman's command, dropped both the letter and Jack's engraved card at her feet.
“Now you may leave.”
“But, ma'am,” Jack remonstrated. “I need to see Miss Malinda in order to make sure that the right lady receives the bequest.”
“You've seen her.”
“You are Miss Malinda Keyes?”
“Leave now, or I'll set the dogs on you.” She didn't bother to reply to his question and just motioned at them both with her pistol.
“If that is your wish.” Jack bowed and slowly lowered his hands. “A pleasure, Miss Malinda, and our apologies for disturbing you.”
Simon started to back away toward the drive and Jack followed. The woman kept the pistol sighted on Jack until they had both disappeared from sight around a bend in the drive.
“Not a very hospitable or grateful family, then, the Keyes?”
“Obviously not.” Jack let out his breath and then glanced behind him. “Oh devil take it, she's let out the dogs. We're going to have to make a run for the wall.” They barely made it, the large pack of hounds snapping at their heels as they climbed and jumping up in a frenzy of barking and yelping that made it difficult to think let alone speak.
With a groan, Jack jumped off the wall and made for his horse, which, thankfully, was still tied up where he'd left it. Simon joined him and they turned to retrace their journey back to the inn.
“What will you do now?” Simon asked.
BOOK: The Sinners Club
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