The Hunt Club Chronicles Bundle (20 page)

Archer hailed a hack, and ushered Aiden inside before he gave the directions for a nearby street to the driver.

The carriage rocked as Archer sat opposite. His dark form dominated the space as they got underway, just as he had when they were alone at the club. “Was the entertainment at the gardens to your taste, Your Grace?”

Aiden licked his lips. “Tolerably good.” He shrugged, aiming to hide his excitement. “I think the band of jugglers should practice more.”

Although the carriage was dark, streetlamps revealed that the corner of Archer's mouth turned up in an amused smile. “Do you juggle?”

The question flummoxed Aiden. Why were they making small talk? Why had Archer not dragged him to his knees for the journey and imposed his will upon him. “No.”

Archer set his booted foot beside Aiden’s thigh and rested his wrist on his knee. The widened stance, the command with which he held Aiden’s attention, brought a lump to his throat. He had missed—

“There really is some skill to it. I've tried it a time or two, but sadly dropped the pins on my head. There is an art to it, all right, as there is with most acting. Like dressing the part of a duke, but not really feeling good enough to be one. I imagine that would take a lot of practice. A man’s whole life, perhaps.”

Aiden gasped. Had Archer turned clairvoyant in his absence, or had he always been this astute? How could he know that holding the title of duke had always fitted ill with him? And that he'd always felt ashamed of feeling that way about his heritage. He licked his lips. “You may be correct.”

Archer's brow rose. “Go on.”

Talking about his feelings had never come easy to Aiden, and here he was, within reach of his lover and forced to talk. He gulped. He had to comply with Archer's wishes or he would disappear again. “It is a lonely life for a gentleman not prone to talk. My parents and brother spoke enough that I never considered my silence until I inherited. It still seems odd that people look to me for an opinion. Makes me cross.”

Archer smiled ruefully. “Yet you have learned to impose your will upon others in often quite brutal ways. Has that made you feel like the duke you should be?”

“No.” Fear crawled around Aiden's belly. Would Archer turn him aside following that confession?

“As I thought.” Archer dropped his foot and leaned forward. “I never enjoyed acting in the role required of me at the club either. But you do what is required unless you want to be turned out. We make sacrifices to please others.”

Aiden gulped at the idea that Archer hadn’t enjoyed being with him at the club. For Aiden, the minute he’d left Archer, he had thought of little else till his next visit.

The carriage rolled to a stop. When Archer reached for the handle, Aiden lurched toward the door to prevent his escape.

Archer stilled him with a light touch to his wrist. “Be calm, Aiden. We’ve reached our destination.”

Shock held him still. It had been a long time since he'd been called by his first name. Hearing it pass Archer's lips sent a thrill racing through him. His prick thickened beyond his power to control. But he had to hide his reaction. He thought of Lady Russell’s ample breast in his hand and found control once more.

Archer’s brow rose at the sound he must have made, but then he stepped out, leaving Aiden to follow or not. He threw a bright coin to the driver and looked about him.

When Aiden joined him, Archer was scowling into the distance. He looked around. The quiet street was completely at odds to where he expected to be.

Their fingertips brushed and, startled, Aiden jerked his hand to his chest.

Archer’s frown turned on him, then he ushered Aiden from the street. “Say nothing when we enter.”

“Where are we?”

Archer scowled. “My
London
home.”

Aiden blinked. Archer had a home in
London
? How was that possible?

Stunned, he quickly followed his lover up the tidy front steps and waited as he inserted a key in the lock. When the door pushed open silently he stepped into more opulence than he dreamed possible in the home of a former whore. He clenched his jaw shut quickly, lest Archer see and take offense.

“Up the stairs, first on the right and quietly,” Archer whispered in his ear.

Aiden hurried to do his bidding. But when he got to the top, he lingered and heard Archer speaking to another man. A servant, perhaps?

Aiden didn't have long to consider it as Archer's heavy tread climbed the stairs toward him. He spun about and stepped into darkness. A shiver of anticipation stroked his back as Archer closed the door with a soft click.

“The butler is too old to climb the stairs with ease and seems hard of hearing. He never noticed your arrival.”

Aiden turned. “As you wish.”

“I do.” Archer shrugged out of his coat. “No point upsetting the apple cart and shocking the poor man into an early grave. I'll see you out first thing so Finnegan doesn't notice you.”

Aiden nodded in the dark, but his eyes had adjusted to the faint light by now. He could pick up the shimmer of moonlight upon glass. “Seems a good place to live.”

“You mean it’s richer than I deserve?” Archer snorted. “You are correct, of course. A whore doesn't belong among crystal and rich silks.”

“It is not that. It is just—” Aiden couldn't finish his thought. He'd never considered what kind of place Archer had come from or where he'd gone to.

Archer approached. “What?”

“I didn't know where you'd live. I thought somewhere more—”

“Masculine?” Archer's teeth flashed white in the darkness.

Aiden forced his hands to relax at his sides. “Yes.”

A grin curled Archer's mouth up at the edges. “So did I, but that bed is heavenly. Do you need help with your coat still?”

Aiden swallowed. “Yes.”

Archer twirled his finger around in a circle and Aiden turned as if he'd been spun. His tight coat sleeves were tugged over his hands and then whisked away.

“A man should be able to undress himself,” Archer whispered in his ear. His warm breath sent a thrill through Aiden and he turned around.

Archer stood before him. He slowly pressed his hand to the center of Aiden's chest and pushed. When his back hit the bed post, Archer held him there.

Aiden’s breath hitched tight in his chest at the realization they were alone once more. He had a chance to make things right this time, to fix the mistakes he’d made before. Yet he didn’t know the first thing about what Archer wanted. He’d said his behavior before was all an act. What did he really want now?

He held still as Archer explored his chest with a soft touch. Usually, Archer waited until they were joined together, when he couldn't respond to the caress because his hands were bound. But there were no bindings today, only Archer's warm hands stroking his sides. Yet this time the caress didn’t trouble him. It was Archer's way to touch, to caress his body softly. The gentle touch, however, sped his arousal.

“Archer,” he hissed.

His lover drew back, wariness replacing the friendliness of his earlier gaze. “That name is dead and gone.”

Aiden nodded quickly. “By what name shall I call you, then?”

~ * ~

Terrance drew back, startled. Did Aiden really not know his name?

What a fool he was.
Terrance could have saved himself the trouble of withholding his name in so many situations if he'd realized that simple truth. He could remain anonymous still by giving a false name to the duke now, but as he looked into Aiden’s face, dark eyes pleading for the truth, his tongue betrayed him. “Terrance Bridgewater.”

The first smile Terrance could remember ever seeing on Aiden’s face startled him.

“Terrance,” Aiden whispered, blinking rapidly as his hands fluttered at his sides.

With one hand pressing Aiden against the bedpost, Terrance leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across his lover’s.

Aiden's eyes widened in surprise, his hands curled into fists.

Kissing had never been part of their past relationship, yet Terrance enjoyed it very much. Aiden would have to get used to it or leave. Still holding Aiden in place, he brought his face closer and then licked over those slack, startled lips. Aiden swallowed—a nervous gesture that hinted he had no idea how to react.

Terrance inched closer until their pricks touched through their clothes. That seemed more to Aiden's liking as a moan escaped his lips. But Terrance was not done with kisses. He had a duke's mouth to explore.

He ran his tongue along the seam of his lips as Aiden’s hips pressed hard against him. He pushed against that wide, firm chest he loved to touch and licked at his mouth again.

A harried groan passed Aiden's lips. “Please.”

“Quiet. Open your mouth for me,” Terrance commanded.

Those tempting lips parted and Terrance leaned forward. At the first proper touch, Aiden whimpered. Terrance curled his hand around his lover's skull to hold him steady. He wanted kisses with his pleasure tonight. He wouldn't settle for anything less. He was done playing the part of a tyrant. He wanted something much gentler than that.

The second kiss was better received, yet still chaste by his standards.

By the time the night was through, however, Aiden would know his kiss and demand it for his own. If he did not, they truly were through. And Terrance may very well regret it. Already he was hard with want, resisting the urge to turn Aiden around and ground the head of his prick against his hole, ready or not.

Yet Terrance would never force himself on another man. He'd been buggered too often with too little care to inflict that on anyone else. He kissed Aiden again, making a tentative sweep across his open lips as he did so and received another shuddering gasp in return.

Yet it was not disgust. Aiden's prick strained in his trousers. His lover simply did not know how to react. Terrance hauled Aiden hard against him and nipped at his jaw. “Put your arms about me. Touch me in return.”

His lover’s embrace was tentative at first. But when Terrance attempted another kiss, sweeping his tongue inside Aiden’s mouth, their exchange became frantic. Terrance allowed the frenzy for a little while, quite pleased to have ruffled Aiden’s composure, but he soon gentled him. “There is no rush tonight, no one waiting for the room, or spying to see what we do. There are hours till daybreak.”

Aiden gulped in air loudly against Terrance’s shoulder and he rocked his lover gently in his arms. Patience had never been Terrance’s strong suit either, but after three years of deprivation he had some serious exploring to do. He would do everything with Aiden that whoring at the Hunt Club had denied him. He would make love to Aiden the way he chose.

He pushed away and reached for the fastenings of his clothes. Tonight there would be no games, no masks, not props to set the stage. Tonight he’d find out if Aiden could enjoy sharing a bed with him.

Once he’d divested himself of all but his trousers, Terrance turned around. Aiden hadn’t moved, hadn’t stripped one piece of clothing from his body. The sight didn’t please him. “Have you changed your mind, Your Grace?”

Aiden shook his head. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

Terrance drew closer. “What then?”

Aiden’s hand lifted and he settled the tips of his fingers against Terrance’s bare skin. “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought I had ruined everything.”