Thomas took a moment to sip his ale. Ned was shorter than him by a full head, and he did have a nice smile, but Thomas would have preferred to exchange a few sentences before he decided if he was taking the other man to bed. And there should be flirting. Thomaslikedthe flirting part. He was good at it too, whatever the duke had implied about him hiding his fun side.
And why was he even thinking about the duke right now when there was a pleasant young man offering him a night’s company?
Ned was still looking at him expectantly and when Thomas didn’t answer right away, he leaned forward on his elbows.
Oh.This was where the flirting happened.
But instead of telling Thomas how he’d like to sit in his lap and see what came up or any of a dozen other well-worn lines that would lead into a merry banter that ended up with them in bed together, Ned said in a low voice, “You’re the Captain of the Guard, right?”
Thomas nodded, unsure why it mattered.
Ned perked up, his eyes alight with excitement. “Do you think we could go back to the castle? You could give me a tour of all the hidden passages. Ooh, maybe I could suck you off in the throne room!”
Thomas stiffened. “Absolutely bloody not!” The idea of abusing his position—and the king’s trust—like that made a shudder of distaste run through him.
Ned’s face fell. “Well, can we at least go back to your rooms? Only, I live with my mum, and I can’t be sure she won’t disturb us.”
Any spark of interest that had been there fizzled out faster than if someone had pissed on it. At thirty years old, Thomas was well past settling for a quick fumble with someone’s mother inthe next room, and Ned wasn’t tempting enough for Thomas to want to take him back to the castle. Not many people got to see the inside of Thomas’s cottage. He hadstandards.
And suddenly, the thought of spending the night with Ned was exhausting. He sighed and pushed his chair back from the table. “I’m sorry, Ned. I don’t think I am looking for company after all.”
Ned’s smile transformed into a scowl. “What do you mean, you’re not looking for company? You’re here, aren’t you? And you were happy to take my drink and lead me on. But now it’s time to pay the piper, you’ve changed your mind?”
Pay the piper?
Did Ned really think a pint of ale entitled him to Thomas’s company?
“You’re the one who sent me a drink,” Thomas said, “but if you’re so upset, I’ll pay you back the cost.”
“It’s not the drink,” Ned said, his mouth twisting. “It’s that you haven’t given me a chance. I’ll bet I could make tonight a good night for you if you’d let me.” In seconds he was out of his chair, and his weight settled in Thomas’s lap as he straddled him uninvited. He licked his lips. “Are yousureyou don’t want to take me home?” he asked with a leer.
Thomas didn’t try to hide his shudder, but Ned was either oblivious or ignorant because he leaned in, possibly for a kiss, and at the same time he reached down and cupped Thomas’s balls. Thomas froze for a second before giving a single mighty shove, hard enough to send Ned flying onto the tavern floor.
He hit the ground with a thump and stared up at Thomas, mouth hanging open in shock.
A few of the other patrons laughed and one of them called out, “I see you still can’t take no for an answer, Ned!”
Ned glared at the man who’d spoken and for a moment it looked like he was going to argue, but then the barman pulledout a small wooden club and rested it on the bar, and Ned’s mouth snapped shut.
Thomas stood abruptly. He’d come out in search of a nice friendly fuck, but now he wanted nothing more than to put the evening behind him.
He stalked out the door, alone and unsatisfied, as Ned shot him a narrow-eyed look from where he was still sprawled on the floor. If looks could kill, Thomas would have been a lifeless heap.
Maybe the duke was right. Maybe nobody could tell he had a fun side. Why else would Ned feel he could proposition Thomas without observing the usual niceties?
He trudged back to his cottage and took himself to bed and then lay there wondering what was wrong with him that he was turning down willing young men. But as much as he mourned the lack of a companion for the night, he couldn’t regret his decision. In the end, Ned hadn’t been interesting enough to catch his attention, and then he’d turned out to be disturbingly pushy as well.
Thomas didn’t want that. He wanted someone flirty. Someonefun.
He punched his pillow and huffed in frustration, and it took a long time to fall asleep.
“Put some effort into it, Sam! My mum can swing a staff harder than that!” Thomas barked.
“Yes, Captain!” Sam panted and swung his staff wildly in the direction of Darcy, his sparring partner. Darcy responded by ducking low, rushing forward, and knocking Sam off his feet. A flurry of dust flew up and Sam let out a pained yelpas his arse connected with the hard-packed dirt of the training yard, his weapon clattering to the ground next to him.
They’d been training for an hour, and this was the third time in a row that Darcy had sent Sam tumbling into the dirt. Around them, the other guards continued working in pairs as Darcy grinned and twirled his staff in victory. Sam let out an exasperated huff, and Thomas sympathised. He remembered being upended during his own training, and it never got any less humiliating to find yourself sitting in a cloud of dust while your arse ached. Still, that didn’t mean Sam got to stop trying.
“Good work, Darcy. Up you get, Sam, and go again,” Thomas said.
