The long hall was mostly empty, only a couple at the far end deeply engaged in their own discussion. Sebastian unlocked his stateroom and held the door so Wesley could go in ahead of him.
As soon as the door closed, Sebastian was pulling Wesley against him. “Oh, I like this,” Wesley said, sliding his hands under Sebastian’s unbuttoned jacket and over his dress shirt. “Though I have to ask, how much of this is wanting me, and how much of it is wanting my body heat after sitting by an open window in the middle of the Atlantic in winter?”
“The fresh air is good for Rory’s seasickness.” Sebastian had Wesley’s bow tie undone and his tailcoatoff, and was now working on his shirt buttons. “Who says I even noticed the cold?”
“You’re a truly terrible liar,” Wesley said, even as his hands found Sebastian’s trousers.
Sebastian got the dress shirt open, getting his hands on the warmth which radiated even through the long-sleeved silk undershirt Wesley wore. “I’ve never asked why you don’t wear the union suit.”
“You mean, why have I eschewed traditional undergarments when the rest of my clothes are outrageously old-fashioned?” Wesley said sardonically.
“I wasn’t going to say that,” protested Sebastian.
“Oh please, I know who I am.” Wesley seemed amused, not offended, as he pushed the dinner jacket off Sebastian’s shoulders. “It’s not about comfort, if that’s what you were about to ask. I am shameless enough to admit that a separate shirt and shorts means much easier access if you’re having a liaison somewhere you shouldn’t be. Say, in a park.”
“Or a tent?” Sebastian said slyly.
He caught Wesley’s inhale. “I wouldn’t know,” Wesley said, his voice lowering in both volume and pitch.
Sebastian shifted closer, so they were pressed together in their half-dressed states. He’d wanted Wesley since the shooting lesson and he had no resistance left. “Captain Collins never shared a tent with anyone?”
“Never.” Wesley’s hands had gone under Sebastian’s army T-shirt, warm against chilled skin. “Not in the sleeping sense nor in the sense you’re so brazenly implying. It simply couldn’t be risked.”
“Maybe not.” Sebastian slid his hand between them, under the hem of Wesley’s silk shirt to rest on his stomach.“But maybe Corporal de Leon would not have let it stay empty if he’d been there.”
Wesley’s hands stilled on his lower back. “You thinkyouwould have snuck intomytent? That is a daring bit of insubordination.”
“Why would it have been?” Sebastian said. “I was a medic. I could have found all kinds of excuses to visit you.”
“Now that is a thought.” Wesley’s hand slipped another inch lower on Sebastian’s back, toward his arse. “Having you in my tent would have been diabolical teasing. I would have gone mad.”
Sebastian leaned in, tilting his head back so his lips were nearly against Wesley’s. “Or you could have done something about it.”
Wesley’s arms tightened around him. “Is that what Corporal de Leon would have wanted?”
“If I’d really been in your company and you’d taught me to shoot like you did today, I wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking about getting your hands on me again,” Sebastian said softly. “Ihaven’tbeen able to stop thinking about it. I’ve wanted your hands back on me since we left the deck, Wes.”
Wesley stilled again, muscles tensed. “For the record,” he whispered, “this is also diabolical teasing.”
Sebastian’s heart was beating faster, but in a good way. Wesley had a firm hold on him, but not so firm he couldn’t move. The arms tight around his waist were sending sparks through him, not nerves. “Who’steasing?” He spread his hand out along Wesley’s stomach, feeling muscle flex beneath his fingers. “Not me.”
Wesley’s gaze was still locked on Sebastian’s face.“Then what are you doing?” he said, his whisper more gravelly, dancing over Sebastian’s lips.
Sebastian brushed his lips over Wesley’s, featherlight. “Asking for it.”
“Fuck.” Wesley kissed him deeply, tongue slipping between Sebastian’s lips as his hand moved even lower, to cup his ass over his shorts and pull him close.
Sebastian ran his hand down Wesley’s stomach, going for his cock, but Wesley pulled him tight against him, trapping his hand between their bodies.
“Not me. Not yet.”
“Wes—”
“I want to work you over first, savor it.”
A jolt of arousal went through Sebastian, and he had to catch his whine in his throat. “You better notcoddleme—”
“I’m going to do whatever I like with you.” The corner of Wesley’s mouth curled up in a sly smile as Sebastian shivered. “I will move as slow as I want with you, so you can stop me if you need to, but also because I’m a bastard, and while youaskingfor it is all very well and good, it’s nowhere near as lovely as youbegging.”
