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“Fine, I shall accept your offer,” Bellamy said to Ashwood. “Thank you.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Madam Fairborn remarked as she walked with them to the street, where Ashwood began searching for a conveyance for them. “Promise to be careful.”
“I will.”
“One more thing,” she said, looking over his shoulder as if to ensure Ashwood was out of earshot. “Your true nature suits you. It’s nice to see color back in your cheeks.”
“Granted, the last time you laid eyes on me, I was deathly ill, so any color other than insipid pale would do.”
They smiled at one another before saying their goodbyes.
“She’s right, you know,” Ashwood said once they’d secured a driver and coach to take them to Destiny’s Fall. “It does suit you.”
“You heard that?”
“Heightened senses, remember?” He smirked, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.
They each fell into their own thoughts as their journey commenced. At times they were jostled due to the conditions of the road, and their ankles or legs inadvertently touching sent little sparks up Bellamy’s spine. Their innate connection could not be denied, but his attraction to Ashwood was something that had begun long before they knew they were fated. To this day, and despite everything that came to pass between them, Ashwood was still the most stunning man Bellamy had ever come across and undoubtedly always would be.
And unfortunately, in these close quarters, it was difficult to forget how it felt to have his mouth and teeth and tongue on him the other night, and how hard his cock had been from his ministrations. He adjusted himself and looked elsewhere, or he was liable to pull Ashwood toward him to ravage his mouth and demand he straddle him just so he could feel him again. He made a noise in the back of his throat.
“Are you all right?” Ashwood said.
“Certainly,” he replied, and he could’ve sworn Ashwood was having the same difficulty. His cheeks were flushed, and he shifted restlessly on the seat.
They were quite a pair.
He should’ve never agreed to have him along on this journey, yet the more time he spent with Ashwood, the more he remembered how it felt to be with him. The ease and comfort. Or in this circumstance, discomfort. If only his prick would behave.
“Though if I’m honest,” Bellamy said, glancing out the window at the moving landscape, “I would prefer to be outside on this fine day, instead of cooped up.”
“You could join the driver for a spell.”
“I just might.”
And after another hour of Ashwood’s potent scent in the small space, Bellamy chose to sit beside the driver, if anything, to get some fresh air and clear his head.
As is turned out, the ill-tempered driver didn’t welcome his company, and after being jostled one too many times from the uneven terrain, Bellamy was back inside the coach across from Ashwood again.
Ashwood seemed humored by his reappearance, but instead of teasing him, he grew serious. “You’ve not returned to Destiny’s Fall since…”
“My mother’s death? I saw no need after she was gone.”
“Did you ever consider seeking help from her employer?”
“No, they were fair but not necessarily kind. I was warned to mind myself, or my mother might lose her job. Besides, my mother was very proud and would never dream of asking.”
Ashwood made a sympathetic noise. “You must’ve felt so alone.”
Bellamy knew Ashwood’s questions were only in an effort to pass the time and possibly to get reacquainted. They’d spent months talking into the night and knew most details about each other’s lives intimately. Except the parts Ashwood had kept hidden from him, of course.
“I did…and soon enough, fell into Gladstone’s trap.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am too. And yet, not,” he said, finally looking at Ashwood. “Despite desperately wishing my mother were still alive, and all the sorrow that comes with that, I also know that one’s experiences—good and bad—shape who you are to become. Had I not been with Gladstone, I might not have learned some valuable lessons regarding survival.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve always had to rely on myself.”
“Do you know anything about your mother and why she decided she could not care for you?”
Ashwood frowned, and Bellamy was almost sorry he’d brought up his time in the orphanage, but this felt like the Ashwood he remembered, when he’d so looked forward to their whispered conversations each night.
“Only that she was very poor and didn’t have many options.”
His heart ached for him. “How unfortunate.”
“I’ve come to accept it. And just as you said so eloquently, my past has shaped me.” Their eyes connected. “I would never again, for example, keep things from someone I care deeply about, even if I think I’m sparing or protecting them.”
Bellamy felt as if his skin was too tight and his heart might explode. He could not deny he still cared for Ashwood. That might never change, suppressant or not. But to hear Ashwood say it aloud made him tremble.
