Whiskey Dreams (10 page)

Nathaniel had had a knife. As far as Brom knew, John was unarmed. He didn’t know how the situation would have ended, but just thinking about it gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Still, he wasn’t about to insult John’s dignity. “Regardless, his intentions were clear.”

John was silent for a moment, then he sighed, glancing toward the road beyond the sprawling field. “Do you think he’ll tell anyone? About you and me, I mean.”

Brom shook his head. “There are men who love men, and then there are men who abuse men when granted the opportunity because they’re too afraid to admit that they’d like to love men. The latter sort are even more fearful of being caught than the first. Either way, men who prefer other men – well, they tend to be discreet.”

“Yes, and we’ve done a fine job of that so far,” John said, a rough bark of a laugh escaping him.

“I shouldn’t have touched you in the stable,” Brom admitted. “I was…overeager to prove my sincerity.”

A glimmer passed through John’s eyes, but he didn’t drop his gaze. “It’s no matter. I’ve not been harmed.”

“Will you allow me to make things right, then?” Brom’s heartbeat echoed in his ears as he awaited John’s answer. After what had just occurred, it would be no surprise if John was feeling less than eager for another physical encounter.

 Brom’s heart still pumped fierceness through his veins, and his fingers tingled with remembered violence, curling as if around a knife he no longer held. Much like the day before, he felt like a wild beast, unfit for civilized human company. The delicious pie he’d consumed seemed to turn sour in his stomach as he considered the fact that he might have destroyed his chance to fix things between himself and John.

“I will.”

As soon as the words left John’s lips, Brom had to have his hands on him, had to banish the shivers of violence with the heat of John’s body. Reaching out, he drew John to him, so close that their lips nearly brushed. “No pain this time, only pleasure – I swear it.” He wasn’t an animal. He was a man, a lover – wanted to be a good lover – and he’d prove it if it killed him.

John exhaled, the warmth of his breath teasing Brom’s lips. Irresistibly drawn to it, Brom pressed his mouth against John’s, slipping his tongue inside.

“You taste good,” John said when they broke apart. “Better than the food I had at the party, in fact. What have you been eating?”

“Make sure you speak with Katrina Van Tassel again sometime. Win her friendship, and you’ll see for yourself.” With that promise, he pulled John to the ground.

He kissed John a while longer, until he could feel the edge of hunger to his responses and practically taste his desire. Beneath his breeches, John was hard. Brom undid the front fall, reaching beneath John’s shirt to wrap a hand around his erection, running a thumb over the rounded tip. He was going to give John more pleasure than he’d ever felt in his life, or he’d be damned. Already, John was trembling faintly; Brom could only hope it was a sign of arousal, not nerves or fear. “Tell me truly – did I injure you yesterday?”

“It hurt,” John said, “but not more than I could stand. I could have handled the roughness, even the pain, if I’d thought that I was the one who’d driven you to lose control. In fact, I savored the rawness of your affection, until you cried out another man’s name.”

Brom froze, his heart quickening. In the blur that had been the end of their tryst the day before, he hadn’t realized that he’d said any of the things he’d heard himself screaming in his mind aloud.

“I admit,” John said, “I felt sorely used.”

“No,” Brom said. “It’s not… It wasn’t as it seemed, I swear to you.”

John arched one brow, his eyes challenging.

“Henry was a lover,” he admitted, “but he’s gone now. It was never my intention to let his memory encroach upon our time together, but I’m afraid I couldn’t stop it. By the time I knew what was happening, it was over.”

“I see,” John said, though his expression said that he didn’t.

Sensing the barrier mounting between them, Brom knew he’d have to explain further. “Did you fight at all? In the war, I mean.” John was younger than he was, but plenty old enough to have fought during the war. There had been times when Brom had fought alongside boys little more than half John’s age.

John nodded slowly. “Years ago, when war first broke out in the north. I marched in a few skirmishes and battles with my local militia.”

John’s words freed some part of Brom, and it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, leaving him feeling grateful and relieved in its wake. John hadn’t left his home behind to fight the Continental Army’s battles for years as Brom had, but he’d fought, and that put them on common ground – dead men were dead men, no matter how big or small the battle that killed them. “Then I don’t have to explain what it’s like to watch a man you know die violently.” That was fortunate, for he had no idea how he’d begin to describe it.

John nodded again.

“That happened to Henry. There was an ambush, a short-lived battle. I was there beside him, and that’s what I thought of yesterday when we were together. It wasn’t lust I felt when I said his name – it was horror.”

“I see.” The edge of mistrust was gone from John’s voice. “I wish I’d known at the time; I wouldn’t have been angry.”

“I didn’t realize that I’d said his name aloud.”

John nodded, and the night stretched silent and dark between them. Brom’s fingers were still wrapped around John’s cock, and it was firm against his palm, much warmer than the air. Sensing there was no more to be said, Brom began to stroke him, forcing thoughts of Henry from his mind as his fingers slid over John’s smooth shaft and the thick ridge that marked the beginning of its head, that round, slightly-damp bit of perfection. He’d maintain control this time, and wouldn’t let his time with John be haunted by the memories of events he couldn’t change.

 As John sighed long and low, Brom was grateful for what he had that moment, regardless of the past; it was something he’d sometimes thought he’d never experience again.

“God, that feels good.” John reclined with his head tipped back against a tree trunk, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

But it was nothing compared to the pleasure Brom intended to give him. He stilled his hand and shifted, kneeling in front of John, his knees cushioned by a layer of fallen leaves. Lowering his head into John’s lap, he pressed his lips to the head of his cock.

“Damn.” John drew a shaky breath and quickly released it as Brom took him inside his mouth, running his tongue over the smooth tip, tasting the faint saltiness at the slit and swiping it away with the tip of his tongue, letting the flavor fill his mouth. His own cock hardened as he ran his tongue down the underside of John’s shaft, tracing a thick vein and taking him deep. The blunt tip of John’s cock hit the back of his throat, and it was easy to savor the pressure when John gasped, thrusting his hips in what seemed an involuntary motion, burying himself even deeper in Brom’s mouth.

It was clear that it wouldn’t take John long to reach climax. Resolving to make the brief escalation as enjoyable as possible, Brom cradled John’s balls in one hand. They were hot and heavy, and John moaned when Brom squeezed lightly. He continued to play with them, and John breathed hard, tensing against the tree. His climax rushed hot against the back of Brom’s throat, accompanied by a ragged gasp and a soft curse.

Heat continued to burn through Brom’s veins, even after he released John and withdrew his touch, raising his head from his lap.

“Shall I…” John reached for Brom, his eyes questioning, his fingers searching for an erogenous zone.

“No.” Brom deflected his hand, clutching it briefly within his own before pressing it against the carpet of leaves and underbrush. His cock throbbed, but he wouldn’t allow John to reciprocate. “That won’t be necessary.” This way, if John didn’t wish to see him again, they could part on even terms – or at least, as even as Brom knew how to make them.

John buried an eyetooth in his lower lip, denting the soft flesh. “Perhaps next time we meet, then?”

Brom arched a brow in John’s direction. “You wish to see me again?”

John nodded, still sitting slumped against the tree, his cock still hard and wet, shining dully in the dimness.

Brom gestured toward the knife that lay a short distance away, its blade catching the moonlight and glinting silver. “Being involved with another man is always dangerous.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

****

Brom urged the young gelding into a canter, noting the smoothness of its gait. The animal would make a fine saddle horse, and with its good conformation, would command a decent price. He’d made the right choice by purchasing it months before, when he’d acquired it cheaply due to its poor manners and even worse state of nutrition. The horse had been steadily putting on weight ever since Brom had brought it home, and had turned out to be a biddable animal, when properly handled. It was time to think about selling the gelding, and yet, his mind was anywhere but on the future of the animal that he was riding in large, lazy circles through the stableyard.

The night before, at the edge of the wood near the Van Tassel farm, John had promised to visit Brom the next day for the purpose of retrieving the books he’d left there on his first day in Sleepy Hollow.

Now, Brom glanced regularly over his shoulder, searching the road that wound past the front of his property for any sign of John. Each time he thought of the man – which was at least every few moments – his cock stirred and his mouth watered as he remembered the smooth glide and salty flavor of John’s cock against his tongue, and everything they’d done the night before came back to him in immediate, vivid detail. Naturally, a few moments of recollection were all he could stand before he began to plot what he’d do to John when he saw him next. As he laid a leg into the gelding’s side, guiding it around a wide turn, the silhouette of a horse and rider appeared in the distance.

He’d expected John to come on foot, but instead he rode a rangy grey gelding that Brom recognized as one of the Jansens’ animals. Brom rode out to meet him, slowing his own horse to a trot, walk and eventual halt, sending up little clouds of dust from the road. “Going to use that horse as a pack animal to carry your library?” He chose to make civil conversation instead of letting his unabashedly carnal thoughts spill from his mouth like rainwater from a gutter, though it was a close call between the two.

John smiled, his lips curving invitingly, causing Brom’s cock to twitch, half-hard against his thigh. “Something like that. The Jansens were kind enough to let me borrow Gunpowder, but I’m not sure that I wouldn’t have been better off on foot.” He gazed down critically at the gelding, who was tossing his head, trying to get close enough to Brom’s horse to rub muzzles. “I’ve never met a more stubborn animal. It must have taken me a quarter of an hour to get him to cross the bridge.”

“Well, put him away in the stable for a while and come inside.”

A short while later, Brom led the way into the farmhouse, experiencing a brief bout of déjà vu as he pulled the door shut, sealing himself and John alone together indoors. Though the house was large and otherwise empty, the tension between them simmered, and Brom imagined it as an effervescent thing, broiling over to fill each room, every last nook and cranny of the building. “Your books are upstairs, in the spare room you slept in.” Brom led the way, knowing it would be a while before John would so much as lay a hand on any of the heavy tomes he’d left there.

Their footsteps echoed on the staircase, and Brom imagined that he could almost hear John’s breathing, if he listened carefully. At the top of the steps, Brom’s bedroom door was the first on the right, and he pushed it wide open, looking over his shoulder to lock eyes with John.

In what somehow seemed both the shortest and the longest moment of Brom’s life, they were both hurrying past the threshold, stumbling to the bed and collapsing onto it, their limbs tangling together. Blood surged through Brom’s veins, pounding in his ears and making his cock throb as he pinned John against the mattress and took his lips in a deep, mouth-fucking kiss.