When the telltale slickness of precum sheened his tip, he brushed a thumb over it, letting the slight wetness caress his length. He wanted to be brisk and utilitarian with this act. Just get it over with and get back to regular life. But his mind kept wandering to her eyes, nose, lips, all the micro gestures she made with her face, how he could read her thoughts in a glance, and when he’d entered the room, she’d wanted him. He’d been one drunken idiot away from knowing how her tongue tasted, if she liked to be kissed hard, teeth knocking, hands tangled in hair, or soft and sweet, a tease of lips that heightened the tension, drawing out the pleasure.
This time when he slid his hand to the base of his cock, he let it brush his sac, already drawn tight, aching for release. He bit the inside of his lip and clenched his ass. Nearly there and it was good. Better than usual. Like his body was finding new pockets of pleasure to draw from. Outside, beyond the walls, two men were singing, their words slurring together off-key. A cat mewed in the rafters. He couldn’t stay here long. He had to finish.
What he wanted was to be the one reaching under that white nightgown, running his hands up her curves to the wet silky center; he’d watch her while he touched her there. His rhythm grew uneven. His breathing was rough. Wanted to see those blue eyes darken, her pupils dilating until they swallowed the world. He’d use his free hand to run a thumb over her lower lip, and she’d be as likely to turn on a dime and suck it in.
He grunted as his orgasm struck like a tornado on a clear day. He ground his teeth and milked out the finale in slow, tight strokes, lost in the idea of her sweet mouth opening wide.
It was short work to clean up and then head to the pump near the back entrance to wash his hands and splash water on his face.
The joke was on him, because taking matters into his own hands, so to speak, had the opposite effect to what he was hoping. It didn’t take off any edge; it merely served as a whetstone to sharpen his desire to the point where he could barely talk to her the next morning at breakfast and feigned sleep the entire day in the coach. That night he took his dinner downstairs and when he went up, she was already asleep, or did a good job of pretending.
But the next day no one else was in the coach. Just Lizzy.
He was preparing to fake sleep again when she broke the silence.
“Are you upset with me?”
He glanced up sharply. “Not at all. I’ve been tired.”
“I don’t believe you. You pretended to be asleep all day yesterday.”
“What made you think that was pretend? Iwasasleep.”
She glared. “I thought we weren’t going to lie to each other.”
“I...” He wiped his hands on his breeches. “Fine. How did you know?”
“Your mouth falls open when you sleep, and you twitch.”
“You pay attention.”
“You’re big and constantly in my presence. Of course, I’ve noticed some common gestures, but what I cannot figure out or explain is why you are avoiding me. So, let’s hear it.”
He didn’t want to lie. He had in fact promised the opposite, but there was no chance in hell he’d admit that he came so hard he saw stars in a barn stable and now couldn’t shake the desire to see how much better it would with her.
He’d approach the truth from another perspective. One he hadn’t expected to share, but that now felt as good as any.
“I was recently unwell. Last year I started to feel off, fevers and fatigue that would come and go. Night sweats. I’d often fall asleep without eating dinner. I went to a team doctor, who looked me over and found a lump in my armpit. It didn’t take long for tests to give me a result—it was cancer. It’s called Hodgkin lymphoma. The good news, if you can call it that, is that my diagnosis happened in my time, not yours. With treatment I have good—really good—chances of being okay. Once I cross the five-year mark without it coming back, I’ll be even better.”
“I’m sorry you had to endure that.”
“It sucked, not going to sugarcoat it.” He sat back and crossed his legs, resting an ankle on the opposite knee. “But compared to many, I’m a lucky guy. I can afford great medical care. And I live in a time where a terrible disease is treatable with available medications. But there is one catch, and I want you to know about it before anything else happens.”
This caught her attention. Her shoulders went back and she held her head stiffly as if expecting bad news to land with a blow.
“Go on,” she said simply.
“The treatment I had. It hit my whole body hard. This is good because it killed the cancer, but the bad news is that it messed up other things. I’m likely not going to be able to father children.”
The quiet stretched in the carriage. All he could hear was the rhythmic noise of the wheels on the road.
He had to speak. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m waiting for you to finish. Tell me what’s the matter.”
“Oh.” He blinked. “That was it. Not being able to have children. It’s not for certain, but the doctors have said it’s unlikely, especially right now.”
“Ah, I see, and you presumably want them someday?”
