The Christmas Wager (18 page)

Hudson‘s honor.‖

Hew looked a bit wide-eyed at that, but Edward winked at

him, and he relaxed. ―Yes, Your Lordship.‖

The dynamic between nobility and servants was

interesting to Andrew, who had never had servants in his

house when he was growing up. His family hadn‘t been poor,

but the family import business hadn‘t really turned profitable

until Andrew took it over. Indeed, in many clubs, a man of

Thomas‘s rank would have very little association with a

merchant, regardless of how financially successful he was.

Their close friendship had placed Andrew in a position much

coveted by many in London society. But he still felt that, in a

very real way, he was much closer to Hew than to Edward.

Edward and Hew both coached Susan further, until she

was snapping up the flaming raisins and plums with something

approaching expertise, laughing delightedly. She was only

burned once, and that so slight she quickly forgot about it.

They were all enjoying themselves immensely and

completely forgot about the time. It was a shock when Nanny

Katie appeared to bring Susan up to bed. The little girl

threatened to pout about it, but everyone kissed her good night

and reassured her that there would be lots of fun to be had

tomorrow. Thus a tantrum was deftly averted.

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Once Susan had gone, Edward poured Rebecca a glass of

wine, and another for himself. Andrew saw him glance

significantly at his younger brother, and Thomas took the hint.

―If you don‘t mind,‖ Thomas said, smiling, ―I think I shall

retire for the evening.‖

It was telling that Miss Hudson made no protest at this

statement, though it was still a bit early in the evening. Andrew

followed suit, and quickly excused himself to follow his friend

upstairs. Whatever Edward planned to say to Rebecca, Andrew

privately wished him well. He would need all the luck and

charm he could muster.

Andrew, on the other hand, had his own problems to

contend with—namely Thomas. The man made no pretense of

letting him escape when they came to Andrew‘s door.

―You‘re spending the night in my room,‖ Thomas said, in a

tone that indicated he expected no argument on the subject.

Andrew, however, wasn‘t intimidated. Yes, Thomas was

the son of a duke, and yes, he was devastatingly handsome,

but Andrew would be damned if he‘d be ordered about by

someone he‘d nursed on more than one occasion when he was

in bed with the sniffles.

―No,‖ he replied coldly, ―I‘m feeling a bit tired, so I think I‘ll

turn in now. I‘ll see you in the morning.‖

He turned away, but Thomas slid his body between him

and the door, propping his arm against the frame to block him.

―I‘ve had enough games, Andrew. My father manipulating me

and Rebecca. Rebecca using me to manipulate Edward. My

mother manipulating me to get her way. And you telling me

you love me—that you‘ve loved me for years—then trying to run

off to London when all I want to do is love you back!‖

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Andrew didn‘t trust himself to look Thomas in the eye.

―You‘re not yourself, Thomas. Things will look different when

we‘ve returned to London.‖

―No, they will
not
,‖ Thomas practically growled at him. ―I

know you think I‘m a spoiled child, Andrew. And God knows, in

many ways, you‘re probably correct. But have you ever known

me to lie to you, in the years we‘ve been together?‖

―No, of course not. And I‘m certain you think you know

your own mind now—‖

Thomas grabbed him and kissed him hard, before he could

even finish speaking. Andrew lost all sense of what he was

trying to say, and tumbled into the warmth and desire that kiss

evoked in him, until he could no longer think of anything but

the softness of those lips, the strength of the arms wrapped

around his body, and the masculine firmness of the body

pressed against him. The musky smell of Thomas‘s skin

invaded his senses, and he returned the kiss with a passion

that surprised him. He was hard in an instant, and felt

Thomas‘s arousal pressing back against him, making him long

for release.

Thomas pulled away just enough to breathe in his ear,

―Damn you, Andrew. I know it will take time to prove my love to

you. And I‘ll give you that time—all the rest of our lives, if I

have any say in the matter. But it starts tonight. I‘ll give you a

few minutes to undress. Then I want you to come to my room.‖

He opened Andrew‘s door and gestured toward it as he

turned his body to allow Andrew entry. Then he slipped away

to his own room.

Andrew felt dazed. He went into his room, where a cozy fire

was burning, lit by one of the servants, and closed his door

behind him.

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Would he go? The thought of Thomas ordering him about

like this irritated him. But in a way, Thomas was right. Only

time would tell if Thomas was really in love with him, or if this

was all merely an infatuation. And for the present, the man

Andrew had been wanting ever since that night at the club

three years ago, when they‘d met in the library and stayed up

until dawn discussing the merits and flaws of Utilitarianism,

wanted to make love to him. Would it be less painful to go to

him, and risk rejection in the future? Or to push him away,

now that Thomas finally seemed to want him and every muscle

in Andrew‘s body was crying out for release?

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Chapter 22

THOMAS had stripped down to his undershirt and rinsed his

face in the washbasin. Now he was poking at the fire, stirring

the coals less because they needed it than because he couldn‘t

settle down. Now that he was alone, he couldn‘t stop thinking

about what an ass he‘d just made of himself. He wouldn‘t be

surprised if Andrew locked the door between their rooms and

refused to speak to him until they‘d returned to London—or

beyond that.

You’re spending the night in my room.
My God, what had

he been thinking?

The door between the rooms opened quietly, and Thomas

turned. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Andrew

standing in the darkened doorway, naked, the firelight in

Thomas‘s room flickering soft orange over that beautiful golden

skin.

―Andrew—‖

―If you gloat,‖ the blond interrupted, looking sullen, ―I‘ll

turn right back around and bar the door with the dresser.‖

Thomas set the fireplace poker back in its stand and went

to his friend, touching his upper arm tentatively. ―I don‘t want

to gloat, you fool. I want to love you.‖

Andrew appeared to relax somewhat, and Thomas leaned

in to kiss him—not passionately, this time, but tenderly,

hoping to reassure him. He took Andrew‘s hand and gently

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pulled him into the room, closing the connecting door. Then he

led him over to the bed and pulled down the bed sheets for him.

Andrew sat down on the bed without a word, glancing up

at Thomas with a look of vulnerability that tore at Thomas‘s

heart. He suddenly realized just how frightened Andrew was.

―Surely you‘ve done this before?‖

―With other men, you mean?‖ Andrew asked, looking away

in embarrassment. ―Yes. A few times. Does that matter?‖

Thomas slipped out of his undershirt, pleased to see the

way Andrew‘s eyes glanced up and slid unconsciously over his

naked body. He reached out and slid his fingers gently along

Andrew‘s cheek. ―No, my love. It doesn‘t matter. But why are

you so nervous?‖

Andrew reached up to touch the hand on his cheek. ―What

if you don‘t like it?‖

―I already like it,‖ Thomas said softly, leaning down to kiss

him firmly on the mouth. His arousal became obvious instantly,

as did Andrew‘s. How, he wondered, could there be any doubt?

But he could feel Andrew quivering as he moved his hand

down along the man‘s neck and chest, along the soft, sensual

ripples of his taut stomach and through that wonderful dark

hair between his legs. Andrew whimpered as Thomas gripped

him firmly, thrusting his tongue deep into his mouth at the

same time.

With his other hand, Thomas took one of Andrew‘s hands

and guided it to his own hardness. ―This is what you do to me,‖

he whispered raggedly into Andrew‘s mouth, folding the blond‘s

fingers around him. ―I have never wanted anybody as much as

I want you.‖

He climbed onto the bed, straddling Andrew‘s hips, and

saw his friend‘s eyes widen.

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―What is it?‖

Andrew glanced down to where Thomas had allowed his

buttocks to brush against Andrew‘s erection. But as Thomas

shifted forward, the blond appeared to relax. ―It‘s nothing. I

thought you were going to do something.‖

―What?‖

―Nothing. We‘ll discuss it some other time.‖

Thomas raised his eyebrow, wondering what that might

mean, but decided not to pursue it. He guided Andrew to lie

down, then lay on top of him, their naked bodies intertwined,

as he kissed the blond all over his face and neck and shoulders.

Andrew moaned beneath him, sliding his hands along

Thomas‘s back and down to grip his buttocks, pulling their

hips together as he ground upward. Their shafts slid alongside

one another, growing slick with the fluid that leaked from them,

enabling them to thrust harder and faster against their

muscular stomachs.

Thomas began to kiss lower and lower along Andrew‘s

chest, taking first one nipple then the other between his lips.

He nibbled at them gently, which caused Andrew to whimper in

pleasure. Then he moved steadily downward, kissing along that

beautiful stomach, until at last he was able to take Andrew‘s

shaft into his mouth.

Thomas had never tasted another man before. He hadn‘t

worried that he wouldn‘t like it—it was inconceivable to him

that he wouldn‘t like any part of Andrew‘s body. But he hadn‘t

been sure what to expect. The taste was different than he‘d

imagined, musky and unmistakably male, combined with the

slightly sweet taste of the fluid they were both smearing against

each other. He liked it. In fact, he found himself hungry for the

taste and scent, like a man who was tasting an exotic new food

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for the first time and wondering how he could ever have lived

without it.

―Oh, my God, Andrew,‖ he gasped, ―you taste amazing!‖

Andrew laughed for the first time since they‘d begun. ―I‘m

glad you like it. But now it‘s my turn.‖

He rotated his body, so that he could pleasure Thomas

with his mouth, as Thomas was doing to him. The position

wasn‘t new to him—he‘d done something similar with a couple

of the less prudish women he‘d bedded—but never had he felt

so determined to give the same pleasure he was receiving. Nay,

not only determined, but privileged; honored! When he released

into Andrew‘s mouth, riding the crest of a wave of ecstasy, his

friend tried to pull out of Thomas‘s mouth, perhaps thinking

that Thomas would find it disgusting. But Thomas held him

fast in his arms, keeping Andrew‘s shaft deep inside, until he

felt his friend spasm. He tasted the warmth that flooded into

him, salty and slightly bitter, but so delicious because it was

Andrew‘s essence.

Breathless, they moved to lie in each other‘s arms, pulling

the blankets over their damp skin, as they began to feel slightly

chilled. They kissed for a long time, tasting themselves in each

other‘s mouths and quickly growing hard again.

Before they renewed their lovemaking, Thomas brushed

his lips against Andrew‘s ear and said, panting, ―I know it‘s too

soon. But years from now, when we are in the midst of doing

this for the millionth time, I want you to whisper in my ear,

‗Thomas, I finally know that you love me.‘‖

Andrew smiled at him, his eyes full of undisguised warmth

and adoration. ―I‘ll do that. But right now, I insist that you