Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two (8 page)

“
Do you
disapprove?” Ham asked. He was trying to sound casual, but Conall
could hear the hurt in his voice.

“
No,” Conall
rushed to assure him, turning to face him and then looking away
again. “But it’s not normal, is it? I mean, what we want.” He
admitted his desire to set Ham at ease, but it was a burden
unloaded. He felt better for admitting he wanted to see Munro and
Avril together.

“
Ach,” Ham
said dismissively. “Who’s to say what normal is? Is it normal to
stand there and watch an enemy army approach you and not try to run
away, as we did at Balaclava?” He shook his head. “Truth is, lad,
it runs in our veins. Our father and mum were the same. You
remember Uncle Davie?”

Conall was again struck
with amazement. “Yes, of course. He was Da’s best friend since they
were children. He was never far to be found until he
died.”

“
Mmm,” Ham
said, staring at Avril’s hut. “He was their lover, you
know.”

“
You lie!”
Conall exclaimed in shock, remembering both his parents’ profound
grief when Davie Farrell died.

“
No, I
don’t,” Ham said, shaking his head. “Row told me and Dougie he
caught the three of them together once. They were
all
together, just like
Finn and Edith and me. Do you understand?”

“
He was…with
Mum?” Conall said, confused. Was there more?

“
No,” Ham
said, staring at him solemnly. “He was with Da
and
Mum.”

Conall’s heart lurched
and began to beat double time. Without his even trying to think
about it, the picture of him and Avril and Munro all sweaty and
naked and humping popped into his head. His prick actually hurt it
grew so hard. “Christ almighty,” he whispered.

Ham nodded. “Now you do
understand.”

Conall stared at him.
“And you and Finn…”

“
Aye,” Ham
said. “Me and Finn.”

“
Does it
hurt?” Conall asked, and Ham laughed. Conall blushed again. His
face must be the same color as his scarlet jacket.

“
A little the
first time,” Ham said, “just like for a woman. Ah, but lad, just
like a woman there’s pleasure to be found after the pain.” The look
on his face was dreamy. Conall was sweating in the freezing winter
he was so aroused just talking about it. Because they were talking
about him and Munro, weren’t they? Well, he was. Ham was talking
about Finn, which was something he was trying hard to
ignore.

“
So I’m not a
pervert?” Conall asked with grin.

“
Course you
are,” Ham said. “And so am I. At least to everyone else. But that
doesn’t matter a bit when you’re with them. Trust me.”

Conall shook his head.
“They’ll never do that. Not Avril and Munro.”

“
Don’t be so
sure,” Ham said with a knowing look. “She wants you both, everyone
knows that. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He put his hand
on Conall’s shoulder. “Don’t let the opportunity for true happiness
pass you by, Conall. This is war, make no mistake. We were all damn
lucky at Balaclava, you most of all. You’ve got a second chance
here. Use it wisely.” He stood up and, with a pat on Conall’s
shoulder, left him there to think and spy.

“
So, have you
fucked her yet?”

Graeme spun around, ready
to punch whoever had spoken. He was shocked to see Conall standing
there behind him in his tent. He hadn’t heard him come in, his
thoughts had been so full of Avril. “What?” he asked, sure he’d
misunderstood simply because of the base nature of his own
thoughts. He blushed like a schoolboy, as if he’d been caught with
his hand down his pants.

“
I was
wondering if you’ve fucked Avril yet,” Conall said. He walked in
and made himself at home, sitting down on Graeme’s cot.

“
I hardly
think that’s a respectful way to talk about her,” Graeme said
angrily, yanking his red sash into place over his left shoulder. He
checked to make sure it wasn’t wrinkled over the epaulette on his
jacket. Before he could straighten it out, Conall jumped up and
stepped in close behind him. He fussed with the sash, straightening
it and then smoothing it out down Graeme’s back. Then, after a
moment’s hesitation, he reached around Graeme’s waist and smoothed
the sash down the front to his hip, coming perilously close to
Graeme’s cock, which was beginning to rise under his kilt. Graeme
quickly jerked away and stepped forward.

“
Well, now,
we both know I’m in love with her,” Conall said, going back to sit
on Graeme’s cot. “I’d never disrespect her.” At first he sat almost
primly with his hands in his lap, but when he saw Graeme watching
him, he lounged back on his hands, so that Graeme could see his
cock was getting hard too. Graeme cleared his throat and turned
away, not sure what the hell was going on.

“
Why are you
here, Conall?” he asked, picking up his spatterdashes. He needed to
sit down to put the white spats over his half boots, but the only
place to sit was the cot, next to Conall. He huffed in annoyance,
at himself and Conall, and unceremoniously sat down on the cot. He
bent over to put one spat on, and he could have sworn Conall moved
closer. He jerked his head up to glare at the other man, who just
sat there looking at him innocently, from about six inches closer
than he’d been when Graeme sat down. He straightened. “I ask again,
what are you doing here?”

“
I just came
to check on you and Avril,” Conall said, his hands held out in a
shrug. “What’s wrong with that? I care deeply for her and consider
you more than a friend. I know you’ve been keeping company with her
and I was wondering how it was going. That’s all. I swear.” He
stroked his beard as he eyed Graeme intently, and Graeme’s stomach
actually quivered. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Graeme leaned back down
and set the spat around his foot. Conall slid to the floor and
crawled over to Graeme. When he was directly in front of him Conall
crouched, his feet flat on the floor, his legs splayed wide, his
kilt falling to his hips. Graeme had a good look at his hard cock
and heavy stones hanging there between his legs. He was struck
speechless. He raised his stare to Conall’s face with reluctance.
Conall just crouched there, watching him. When Graeme’s gaze met
his, Conall smiled and pulled off his gloves. “Let me help,” he
said, reaching for Graeme’s foot. When their hands touched, Graeme
felt like a live flame had touched his skin, and he jerked his hand
back. Conall ignored his reaction and buttoned his spat into place.
He held his hand out. “The other one,” he said. Graeme gave it to
him without an argument, and Conall buttoned it on. Then he spread
Graeme’s legs and scooted between them, leaving his hands on
Graeme’s bare knees. “Now,” he said firmly. “Answer me. Have you
fucked her?”

The proximity of Conall
and his cock to Graeme’s cock made Graeme’s head swim as he grew
light-headed. His palms began to sweat. “What are you doing?” he
whispered.

“
Oh, just
testing out something Hamish told me,” Conall said.

At his words Graeme
shoved him back and shot to his feet. “What did he tell you?” he
demanded, sick over the betrayal. He’d thought their conversation
was private, and Hamish would honor that.

Conall stood slowly. “He
told me I ought not to let opportunity pass me by,” he said slowly.
“He said I’d been given a second chance and not to squander it.
He’s right, you know.”

“
What
opportunity?” Graeme asked, his mouth suddenly dry. He licked his
lips and watched in fascination as Conall’s eyes followed the
movement, his stare heated. Conall couldn’t mean what he thought he
meant. Could he? He loved Avril, he’d said it. What was he doing to
Graeme?

Conall stepped forward,
trapping Graeme between him, the cot and the tent wall. “This one,”
he said softly, reaching out to pass his hands lightly over the
buttons on Graeme’s jacket. “I didn’t realize this would be it when
I came here this morning.” He smiled up at Graeme. “But now is as
good a time as any.”

“
I don’t know
what you mean,” Graeme choked out, afraid to move a
muscle.

“
I think you
do,” Conall said. He ran his hand up to Graeme’s shoulder and
squeezed. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed quietly, staring
at Graeme’s throat. He finally raised his eyes to meet Graeme’s,
and Graeme nearly lost his balance at the naked lust he saw there.
“With Avril,” Conall went on, “I’d just kiss her, and undress her,
and lay her down and fuck her. Is that what you did?”

Graeme shook his head. “I
haven’t,” he told Conall in a rough whisper. “I want to, but I
haven’t. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“
You won’t
hurt me,” Conall told him, leaning in and pressing his lips to the
front of Graeme’s throat. Graeme swallowed, standing there stiffly.
“I want you to fuck her,” Conall told him, his lips moving against
his throat. “I want you to fuck her and tell me about it. And
someday soon, I want to watch you fuck her.” A groan escaped Graeme
at Conall’s words. Conall pulled back and looked up at him again.
“I know,” he whispered. “It would be so good, the three of
us.”

“
What has
gotten into you?” Graeme asked in desperation. He grabbed Conall’s
arms and held on tight. He knew he needed to push him away, but he
couldn’t, not after wanting this for so long.

“
I thought I
was wrong in the head to want what I want,” Conall told him. “But I
know I’m not, now. I know you want the same things. Tell me you
want me, Graeme. Do it, tell me now.”

Graeme could not look
away from those beloved blue eyes, eyes filled with a desire Graeme
had dreamed of but never hoped for. “Aye,” he whispered. “You know
I do.”

Conall grinned
triumphantly. “We can’t, not now, not during the day. But tonight,
after you leave Avril, I’ll come to you.” Conall slowly stepped
away, his hand lingering on Graeme’s shoulder until he was too far
away to maintain the contact. “I want you to fuck her tonight,
Graeme, before you come to me.”

Graeme nodded,
speechless, and with one last look, Conall slipped out of his
tent.

Graeme sat in front of
the fire outside her hut as Avril fed the last of the men who’d
come round. There were about ten to fifteen who came now. They
brought her their provisions, and she cooked for them. Graeme had
told her that the French had women who served with the army who did
the same job, but they wore a uniform and were paid by the army.
The Frenchmen all ate together, instead of getting individual
rations and being expected to cook for themselves, as the British
were. Avril thought it sounded like a good idea. She knew many of
the younger ones here weren’t eating enough and were coming down
sick because of it.

Graeme seemed different
tonight. He watched her with an intensity that had her tripping a
time or two and blushing nonstop. People were going to think they
were fucking, when they weren’t. She felt like the worst sort of
whore because even though she still loved Conall, she wanted Graeme
in her bed. She’d dreamed of what a fine fuck a man like him would
be. Her desires were getting the better of her. She was never one
who could go long without, and with Graeme coming around all the
time again, he had her all wound up. But he’d told her it wouldn’t
happen between them because of Conall. Because she still loved him,
and he cared for and respected both of them. There were times, like
tonight, she wished he wasn’t such an honorable man. Just like
Conall and his damn honor that had torn him from her bed. She
hastily turned away from Graeme’s stare before he caught sight of
the tears in her eyes.

A short time later, Avril
gathered the dirty dishes from around the fire as Graeme put the
fire out. He helped her bring the dishes inside and then stayed to
help her clean them. They acted like an old married couple. She
sniffed back tears again as she dried her hands on her apron. She
wasn’t going to get to be an old married couple with either Graeme
or Conall, she knew that. She really ought to be looking among the
soldiers for a man, but she couldn’t, not after having men like
them.

“
What’s
wrong?” Graeme asked, coming up behind her and placing his hands on
her shoulders. He pulled her back so she rested on his broad chest,
and she sighed in contentment.

“
Nothing,”
she lied. “The fire burned my eyes tonight is all. They’re all
teary.”

“
Conall
didn’t come by again,” he said, slowly turning her to face him. He
still held her close. “Is that what made you sad?”

She placed both palms
against his chest and looked up at him. “No,” she said softly. “I
don’t expect him to. He said his piece and made his feelings clear.
Unless I go to him, he won’t come to me.”

“
Then go to
him,” Graeme urged, rubbing her back. She thought it was meant to
be a soothing gesture, but it fired her blood and made her want to
wrap her legs around him and see if he was as indifferent to her as
he seemed.

At his suggestion she
shook her head. “I won’t. He was right, it’s for the best. I’m not
going to marry him. I can’t keep using him to warm my bed under
false pretenses.”