Brook Street: Thief (5 page)

“Certain you don’t want to accompany Stoddart and I to Curzon Street?” Mercer asked him, as the man slipped on his greatcoat in the entrance hall. “The house has a new blonde.”

“Beautiful and talented,” Stoddart added, pulling on his gloves.

And she’d likely already serviced half of London by now. “Thank you, but I plan to retire early tonight.” He had his own gorgeous blond waiting for him. “I would wish you a good evening, but it sounds as if it is already assured.”

The moment the front door shut behind the men, the last of the group to depart the house, Benjamin grabbed the waistcoat he’d asked a maid to leave on the console table and went up the stairs. With every step he took, his arse ached just a bit. Nothing close to painful. Rather the opposite. A pleasant reminder of last night. Of Cavin’s long, fluid thrusts. His ballocks pressing against Benjamin at the end of each stroke, his cock buried deep…

The beginnings of a moan rose in his throat but he tamped it down. He had no intention of immediately pouncing on his guest. For all he knew, Cavin’s only intention was to complete his errand, but Benjamin doubted it. If Cavin was only after his waistcoat, he would have refused to wait and requested an immediate exchange of the garments.

Though Cavin had seemed…off. A bit awkward and nervous when compared to the easy, confident man who sat beside him last night at the gambling table.

He knocked once on the door before entering. “Cavin, thank you for waiting.”

“It was no bother.” The man stood from one of the wingback chairs. “And thank you for supper.”

Benjamin tipped his head, pleased to see the glass almost empty and the plate cleared. Who in his right mind tried to refuse a meal when he was hungry? “Here you go.” He handed Cavin the waistcoat. “Though I’ve been told it has not yet made its way through the laundry. If you’d like, I can have it pressed and cleaned and sent to your address.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary.”

Well, there went that idea for gaining Cavin’s address.

Cavin closed a hand over the front of his waistcoat. His shoulders sagged, the tense nervousness slipping from his features and giving way to relief.

Frowning, Benjamin studied the garment, now held tight in Cavin’s fist. Just plain black silk. Nothing unusual or extraordinary about it. A fair portion of the male population in London likely had a similar one in their wardrobe. Yet he had the impression if he tried to take it back from Cavin, the man would fight him tooth and nail.

“Here, I have yours.” Cavin reached behind him.

Benjamin held up a hand to stay him. “I can see to it later.” Cavin appeared more than a bit awkward. He looked distinctly rough around the edges, and it was more than just the scuffed leather shoes, the muddied hems of the black trousers, and wilted cravat. The man himself appeared tired and worn. The smudges beneath his eyes, the lack of color in his cheeks. “Are you certain all is well?”

“Quite certain.” Cavin flashed him a smile, one that was almost too easy. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“What time did you leave the room?”

Cavin shrugged. “Sometime before dawn.”

“I hope I wasn’t snoring.”

“No, you don’t snore.”

“Thank heaven for small favors.” Women had never complained, but that wasn’t something a woman was apt to complain about nor would he have asked. Not a topic of conversation a gentleman broached with a lady. “It’s getting late. If you’d like, you are welcome to stay the night.”

Cavin arched a brow. “You make it sound so respectable.”

Benjamin shook his head, warmth creeping up his neck to heat his cheeks. “That’s not the reason why I wish you to be my guest.”

“It’s not?” Cavin’s lips twisted in a knowing smirk.

When he’d extended the invitation, his only thought had been delaying until morning the long ride or walk to wherever Cavin called home. The man clearly needed some rest. But putting off sleep for an hour surely wouldn’t harm him, and if Cavin wanted to indulge in a repeat of last night… A heavy surge of anticipation rushed through him. “I’ll admit it would be a pleasant way to while away the night hours.”

“Only a pleasant way?” Cavin asked with mock affront.

“More than pleasant.”

Cavin dropped the wad of black silk onto the chair and stepped closer, so close they stood toe-to-toe. “Much better,” he murmured.

A hand cupped Benjamin’s hip. Breaching the remaining distance between them, Cavin leaned forward. Soft lips brushed across Benjamin’s mouth.

All thoughts of sleep fled his brain.

Benjamin wrapped his arms around Cavin’s waist, pulled him closer. Chest to chest, the arch of Cavin’s hardening cock pressed against his. He slanted his mouth over Cavin’s, flicked his tongue against the seam of his lips. With a groan, Cavin opened for him. A hot, thoroughly delicious tongue tangled with his.

It was as if his soul sighed in relief, in gratitude, in unending thanks. Kissing Cavin felt so right. A part of him whispered that it wasn’t only that Cavin was a man. It was Cavin himself who felt so
very
right.

He nipped at Cavin’s bottom lip, crushed his mouth back over Cavin’s, shoved his hands between their bodies, searching for the waistband of Cavin’s trousers.

Cavin twisted his head, breaking the kiss. “The door. Is it locked?”

“Oh. Ah…” Stilling his hands, he briefly closed his eyes, trying to focus on the question. Had he turned the lock after he’d entered the room? “No. I probably should lock it.”

“Would be a prudent idea.”

Forcing his fingers to release, he let go of the placket of Cavin’s trousers and stepped away from the heat of the man’s body. It took but a moment to see to the lock. He turned from the door to find Cavin shrugging his coat from his shoulders. Benjamin followed suit, his fingers making quick work of the buttons of his own coat.

What he wanted was Cavin naked. For the man to remove every last bit of clothing. To see every detail the darkness had concealed last night. He’d been able to touch, to trace the contours of hard muscles and feel the softness of his skin, but he wanted to know if the man himself matched the picture his hands had painted in his mind. But…

He glanced over his shoulder to the door, rational thought rearing its head above the lust rushing through his veins. The lock assured no accidental visits from a maid or a footman, but his staff had not yet left for the night. Best not to strip Cavin bare just now, and likely best not to do so in the study. However…

His gaze was drawn to Cavin’s trousers, the top button already undone, the black wool stretched so taut over the hard length that Benjamin could make out the flared crown.

If they were interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door, it wouldn’t take but a second to do up the buttons.

He flicked his coat toward the desk and covered the space separating them in three strides. A quick kiss, and he dropped to his knees and reached for Cavin’s trousers.

One firm tug freed the remaining buttons.

“Ben?”

Lips parted in anticipation, he glanced up. A chunk of Cavin’s blond forelock grazed his lashes but couldn’t hide the question in his eyes.

More than once that day, Benjamin had chastised himself for missing the opportunity last night. For not dropping to his knees in that shabby hotel room and tasting Cavin’s cock. Now that the chance was before him again, he did not want to let it pass him by. “May I?”

“Hell, you don’t need to ask. You can suck my cock anytime you’re willing.”

Unable to resist another moment, he pushed the tail of Cavin’s shirt aside. The man’s cock sprang free, coming damn close to slapping Benjamin in the chin.

“Do you ever wear drawers?” he asked, wrapping a hand around that gorgeous length, the crown tinged red, the shaft thick and hard as iron.

“Yes. In the winter. When it’s cold.”

“But otherwise no?”

“Otherwise no.”

The next time he saw Cavin, he knew he would not be able to forget that there would be nothing between him and the man’s cock but a single layer of wool. Well, if there was a next time.

There had to be. Surely he could find some way to guarantee it. If he could convince Cavin to stay the night, perhaps he could persuade him to spend tomorrow with him.

A hand palmed the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair, pulling Benjamin’s focus back onto the cock in his hand. He flicked his tongue over the crown, lapping up the bead of fluid. Salt and musk. Like himself but delicious when his own seed had merely been another taste for his mind to catalog. Opening wide, he took Cavin inside, lips dragging over soft skin. He pulled back, licked his lips to wet them and tried again.

Much better.

He bobbed along the length, taking a bit more with each stroke. A gravely groan rumbled around him. Glancing up, he met deep blue eyes filled with lust and… Damnation, awe, as well. Cavin’s lips were parted on heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with arousal. Closing his eyes, Benjamin took a breath and sank down as far as he was able. Cavin’s grip tightened on his head. The groan turned into a growl.

Benjamin sucked harder, stroked faster, determined to pull the orgasm out of Cavin. To have the man spill his seed on Benjamin’s tongue. To feel the spasms rack his body as the ecstasy claimed him.

The hand on his shoulder tightened, fingers digging into his muscles, then Cavin pushed on his shoulder. “Stop, Ben.”

Reluctantly, Benjamin pulled his mouth from Cavin’s prick. “But I want to taste you when you come.”

“You will.” Cavin gasped. “Just lie out on the rug. Trust me. And take out your cock.”

With a shrug, Benjamin did exactly as bid, moving to lie on his back on the rug. Lifting his hips slightly, he unbuttoned the placket and pushed aside his shirttail and drawers.

Cavin dropped to his knees beside Benjamin’s shoulder. Then bracing his weight on one hand by Benjamin’s hip, he leaned down.

Wet heat engulfed Benjamin’s prick.

“Ah, hell!”

“Shh.” The admonishment was hissed across the head of Benjamin’s cock, soft lips kissing the crown.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the moan inside as Cavin took him deep. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been sucked off before. But this? Similar but so very different. Cavin’s mouth was somehow hotter, wetter, with a coarse determination behind each stroke. Benjamin could sense the knowledge of just how it felt to be on the receiving end.

His rhythm unbroken, Cavin shifted, knees straddling Benjamin’s ears and putting his erection in a very convenient location.

Bloody brilliant man.

Taking hold of Cavin’s cock, he brought it to his mouth. It took a few strokes to work out the best angle and just how to lift his head, but soon Cavin was nudging his hips in perfect counterpoint.

Every breath he took was filled with the heady scent of male arousal. Cavin’s cock slid in and out of his mouth, just as his own cock slid in and out of Cavin’s mouth. He flicked his tongue over the crown and Cavin reciprocated, a luscious little flick over the tip. He tightened his grip on Cavin’s length and felt it in his own. Sucked harder and the suction around his cock intensified.

A climax began to coil down his spine, gathering in his ballocks. Cavin’s panting breaths quickened. Turned harsh. A sound he recognized from last night. He tried to pull his focus more fully onto the cock in his mouth, determined not to miss the exact moment when the first drop of seed hit his tongue. A task he found impossible as a strangling tightness suddenly gripped the head of his prick, his entire length caressed by the slick heat of Cavin’s mouth.

He grabbed Cavin’s thigh with his free hand, needing something to anchor him as the orgasm rushed over him, his howl of completion muffled by Cavin’s prick.

The strong thigh muscle beneath his hand tightened. Then Cavin let out a muffled groan, his hips going still. Liquid splashed against his tongue, filled his mouth. Bitter salt and heat. Ben struggled to coordinate his reflexes enough to swallow every last drop.

Panting hard, Cavin flopped onto his side. Then he pulled himself up to sit with his back against one of the chairs. He didn’t make a move to repair his clothing, and Benjamin was glad for it. Slumped against the chair, hair tousled and eyes heavy, the front of his trousers still open, exposing his sated prick… The man looked positively decadent. The very image of wicked indulgence.

Deciding he probably shouldn’t remain sprawled on the floor all night, Benjamin pushed up to sit against the other chair.

A little chuckle rumbled Cavin’s chest. “You’ve got an amazing mouth, Benjamin.”

“Yours isn’t too bad, either,” he replied, slanting a glance to Cavin’s mouth, to those full lips flushed red and wet.

Reaching back, Cavin grabbed the wine glass from the tray. He took a small sip, leaving a splash within, and held out the glass to Benjamin.

He hesitated, not wanting to lose the lingering taste of Cavin on his tongue. Thirst won out and he took the glass, draining the contents. Setting the empty glass by his hip, he let his head tip back and his eyes drift closed. The most wonderful feeling of contentment clung to his senses. Lazy and rich, like after a satisfying meal but only better. So much better. If he did not get up soon, he would very well fall asleep right there on the study floor. “Stay the night with me?”

Cavin let out a sigh. “Ben…”

Opening his eyes, he looked to Cavin. “Please. We’ll get some sleep then we can have breakfast in the morning and then…”

“Then what?”

Benjamin blinked, taken aback by the ugly mix of sarcasm and resignation in Cavin’s voice. “We could take a ride about the park.” He could invite Cavin to Gentleman Jackson’s, meet up with his friends, but he wanted to spend time with just Cavin. No one else. Time outside of a bedchamber and with clothing intact. Time to truly get to know him.

“I don’t have a horse.”

“There’s a livery around the corner. Stables my own horses. We can rent one there for you.”

Cavin dropped his gaze to the rug, picked at a strand of blue thread near his hip. “Thank you for the offer, but I can’t.” He let out another sigh. “It’s getting late. I need to be on my way. Thank you for supper and for…” He motioned to the rug then got to his feet to right his clothes.