“Entertaining dull provincial folk at lunchtime and building somewhere to house the local poor and infirm are but feeble reparations.Five homes—ten homes—would be insufficient.”
Abruptly, Lord Lyndon turned from the window and paced back again to take up a position in front of the mantel.He drummed his fingers on the cold marble, then raked them through his unruly hair.“But I have never swived a man.”
This admission he directed towards a small oil painting of an ugly child clutching an even uglier black dog.Not one of his own.“Though I wanted to, once.And thanks to you and your persistent…existence, thatwanthas reared its swollen head again.”
Rollo bit back the smart witticism at the tip of tongue.I’m maturing, at last.
“You once held atendrefor your…ah…playroom friend,” he hazarded instead.“But it was not reciprocated?”
“It most certainly was.”Affronted, Lord Lyndon huffed and folded his arms.“Except it was not to be, and…and I request you question me no further on the matter.The subject is…well, it is painful.”
“And now you have developed an inconvenienttendrefor me.Am I correct?”
Fitzsimmons’s gaze narrowed.“Damn your eyes, pup.And damn your insistence on that ridiculous word.There is nothingtenderabout this uninvited business of…of desire and affection.It is harsh and unmannered and pricks like a thorn.”Once more, he strode to the window.“In case I do not make myself clear, mytendrefor you is an affliction to which I’d have rather not succumbed.”
“You are implying I am irresistible?”Rollo teased.
“Like a shiny red apple laced with arsenic, yes.”
Rollo found Fitzsimmons’s petulant attempts to express his needs charming and his awkwardness seductive.Nonetheless, with burgeoning needs of his own, Rollo decided the time had come to help Fitz along a little.He dabbed at his forehead with his pocket square, then dug a finger under his collar.
“Miss Eliza was correct in her observations, my lord.It is awfully sticky today.If you have no objection now that the ladies have departed, I shall relieve myself of my coat.”
The lord turned and, as Rollo rose to his feet, tramped back to the fireplace, his fists clenching and unclenching.Making more of a song and dance about things than strictly necessary, Rollo tugged ineffectually at his cuffs.
“I do so adore the latest fashions, but goodness, these tight sleeves can be a devil.I’m of a mind to call for Greaves to assist.”
“No!”Lord Lyndon strode to his side, mere inches away, close enough for Rollo to breathe in the warm woodsy, masculine musk of him.A flush spread across Fitzsimmons’s cheeks.“No,” he repeated more evenly.“My untrained service will suffice.”
He removed the coat with surprising gentleness, easing out each arm before pushing the garment from Rollo’s shoulders.
“And your cravat,” the lord added, his voice rough as a saw edge.“You…remove that too.”
His big hands fisted at his sides as if untrusting of them.“Tell me, pup.When men like you…like… like us…when they… what if they are not…not compatible?What if…” His eyes darted down Rollo’s half-dressed frame.“What…dammit, what if they both desire the same thing from their… ah…liaison?”
“Then they simply take it in turns, my lord.”
Fitzsimmons’s jaw dropped, his expression aghast.“And do…do you…”
Cravat in hand, Rollo hid his smile behind it.Him flying to the moon was more likely.He drank in this big beast of a man, chest hard as whinstone, tying himself up in knots like an anxious virgin.The same man whose flinty gaze weakened Rollo’s knees while stiffening his cock, a man capable of devouring Rollo’s soul for breakfast.And then he spared a glance down at himself, at how his cinched waistcoat hugged his tiny, girlish middle, and at the sunny yellow cravat dangling from his fingers.
“Look at me, my lord.”
Two dark eyes, blazing with need, lifted to his.
And Rollo continued.“One should never, ever assume a man’s preferences.But look at me properly and then consider yourself.How you like things in bed.How it pleases you to pleasure a woman.And how I bent so readily at your feet and served you.”He permitted himself a small smile.“I will hazard a guess that you enjoy playing the part of… the ship’s captain.And I am very much accustomed to, and savour, the role of first mate.”
Below the proud set of his jaw, his lordship swallowed, once, contemplating.Then nodded.“Understood.”
His gaze slipped down to Rollo’s slight chest.“Unfasten that waistcoat.”
Two curt instructions later, Rollo was stripped of every item bar his drawers and his trousers, which both sagged at his knees, held there by his boots.Fitzsimmons’s hand drifted to his jutting member, and he gave an audible swallow.
“Face the wall, pup.Put your palms like so.”
Rollo shuffled around.A cool breeze drifted in from the open window, caressing his bare arse.Or perhaps that was Fitzsimmons’s fingertip, mapping out his curves.Slowly, he lifted his arms and braced his palms either side of his head.“I’m to be pinned like a hydrangea.”
Behind him, Fitzsimmons snorted.Then a firm hand gripped his hips.The other roamed over Rollo’s buttocks as Fitz brought his mouth to Rollo’s ear.“Perhaps.But they are the fairest blooms in my garden.”
