The charity event was nearly as tedious as the meeting Taylor had had with one Mr. Evans, Esquire, whose legal matter was exactly as interesting as Taylor expected it to be—which is to say, not at all. It was clearly a scam, and Taylor hated breaking the news. There were so many of them, though; even years later, people claimed to be long-lost Titanic survivors or to possess some piece of precious cargo from the ship. Taylor had seen it all a million times.
As for the charity ball itself, Taylor couldn’t help noticing that nearly everyone in attendance was a young, single male like himself. He didn’t mind that, but most of them were desperately boring, and he found himself stuck chatting with the worst of them, no matter how hard he tried to convey his disinterest. Nicholas was plagued by so many so-called friends that Taylor could do little more than shoot him a few glances all night.
“No, thank you,” Taylor said reflexively, not even looking at the waiter who stood in front of him with a tray. When he didn’t leave, Taylor noticed that a small slip of paper on familiar looking stationery was tucked under the proffered champagne glass. With little more than a glance at the waiter, he said, “On second thought.”
He flicked the note open casually while taking a sip from the champagne. Sure enough, it was the handwriting he had become intimately familiar with over the past week of re-reading his note over and over again.
T –
I’ve inquired at the desk for your room number. I’ll trust that it won’t be locked when I come up later. If so, that just means I must try harder.
— N
Taylor practically shivered at the thought of what Nicholas trying harder might entail. He downed the rest of his champagne and handed the glass off to a passing waiter. Nicholas was still engaged in a conservation that didn’t look scintillating in the least, if his facial expression were anything to judge by, and Taylor made sure to hold eye contact with him for just a few seconds too long. He held the note up discretely then tucked it into his pocket and gave Nicholas a smile. He returned it with the faintest of nods, his companions completely unaware of the exchange.
But Taylor knew and Nicholas knew, and that was all that mattered.
There was a part of Taylor that wanted to begin undressing as soon as he made it to his room, but that seemed a bit hasty. For all he knew, Nicholas only wanted to chat. Or perhaps to kiss a bit more. Taylor would be perfectly happy only kissing him. At least, he could convince himself that he would be. The truth was that he was already panting and sporting a painful erection, his body pressed against the door to his room as he tried to catch his breath at just the thought of being intimate with Nicholas.
A soft knock at the door jarred Taylor from his thoughts. He might not have heard it at all, had he not been right against the heavy wood, but as it was, the sound echoed all the way down to his toes. He spun around and took a quick look in the peephole, only to confirm what he already knew. His white tie undone, Nicholas stood in front of the door looking surprisingly vulnerable.
Taylor opened the door and stepped quickly behind it, in case there were any witnesses. At this hotel, and at this time of night, Taylor doubted there would be many prying eyes. The establishment for this particular ball had been chosen well; Taylor had a feeling Nicholas had a part in that.
If Nicholas had looked nervous before Taylor opened the door, he didn’t show it at all now. He gave Taylor a broad smile, the faint wrinkles around his eyes making Taylor’s heart skip a beat, and Taylor had to resist the urge to pull him into the room by his loose tie.
“Nicholas,” Taylor breathed out, unsure that he could speak any word at all besides the man’s name.
“Taylor,” he replied, looking for a second like he wanted to say more. Instead, he simply bounded into the room, letting the door slam behind him, and crushed his lips to Taylor’s.
This was nothing at all like their first kisses, shared so dangerously and furtively on the churchyard. This was desperate, full of longing—and not only on Taylor’s part, he noticed. This man, this beautiful, highly eligible man… wanted him. Really, truly wanted him. At that thought, Taylor couldn’t stop himself from moaning, the sound reverberating through the room and in Nicholas’s mouth.
“I’ve thought about this since I left Beasley,” Nicholas breathed out, pulling back from the kiss to trail his lips down Taylor’s jawline. “Honestly, I’ve been useless the whole week. Nothing at all on my mind but you… and the things I would do when I saw you again.”
“What things might those be?” Taylor dared to ask, surprising himself with how easy it was to duplicate Nicholas’s seductive tone.
“Things that would have made Oscar Wilde blush,” Nicholas replied, spinning Taylor around so that he was once again pinned against the door.
Taylor didn’t have to wonder long what those things might be. He watched wide eyed as Nicholas dropped to his knees and made quick work of Taylor’s trousers, leaving them a puddle on the floor and Taylor completely exposed to him. Taylor let out a low moan as Nicholas ran his tongue up his length, already throbbing and aching for him. If he could see how desperate Taylor was, it only seemed to spur him on further.
Nicholas worked Taylor’s length skillfully, with an art Taylor had rarely seen before. Taylor’s head fell back against the door with a crack that might have worried him under other circumstances, but all he could think about right then was the feeling of the fifth Marquess of Radnor on his knees with Taylor’s prick in his mouth. Nothing else in the world mattered but the pleasure he felt at Nicholas’s touch and tongue.
Taylor found his release embarrassingly soon, but Nicholas didn’t seem to mind. He pulled himself back to his feet, licking his lips, and pulled Taylor toward the bed, tugging ever so gently on his tie. Taylor let himself be led, realizing that he would let Nicholas lead him anywhere. If Taylor had any doubt left that he was completely hopeless, it vanished in that moment.
They fell onto the bed together in a heap of limbs and made quick work of the rest of each other’s clothing. Taylor slid his hand between their bodies and found Nicholas’s hard cock, working quickly to return the favor. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, Taylor’s leg wrapped around Nicholas’s in order to press as much of their flesh together as possible. The friction created by Nicholas’s hot, throbbing prick rubbing against Taylor’s was nearly enough, Taylor thought, to set his entire body on fire.
When Taylor’s head finally fell back onto the pillow, his body feeling as though it were drowning in pleasure, he let out a sigh that turned into a loud laugh. He wanted to be embarrassed by the sound, but he didn’t have the energy left for any emotions other than love and satiation.
“Well,” Nicholas breathed out. “Was it worth the trip to London?”
“I think I would travel to Timbuktu for that,” Taylor replied. “For you.”
“You’ll be pleased to know I don’t plan to ask that much of you. Only that I get to see you as often as we can arrange and invent excuses for.”
“I’m sure with Natalie’s help we’ll be able to arrange it quite often,” Taylor replied.
Pulling the blankets up around their naked bodies, Nicholas replied, “You got lucky in my dear cousin, didn’t you? What are the chances of being paired off with someone who understands her role and is content with it?”
“I suppose it helps that she knows I’ll never stop her from… pursuing her own interests, shall we say. Plenty of poorly matched couples live that way. But I know I am still infinitely lucky that she has never judged me for–well, you know.”
“The love that dare not speak its name,” Nicholas replied, the words breaking off into a snicker.
“You’re quite the dandy, aren’t you?” Taylor asked, giggling himself.
“Mmm, and you’re one to talk. With that suit? Honestly, your choice of clothing is positively scandalous. I didn’t know second sons of earls were allowed to wear anything but solid black suits.”
As he spoke, Nicholas’s foot was trailing up Taylor’s bare leg, making Taylor giggle even more. He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “I don’t think second sons of earls are supposed to do a lot of things I do, but it hasn’t stopped me yet.”
“Quite the rebel, aren’t you?”
“What’s the fun in not being the son to inherit if you can’t bring a little disrepute to the family as well?” Taylor asked, his laughter finally dying out. “But honestly… oh, I shouldn’t even ask. Pretend I didn’t say a word.”
“You ought to know I’m not capable of that at all,” Nicholas replied, brushing back a strand of Taylor’s hair. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s perfectly all right to ask, and I will do my best to answer.”
“What, precisely, are we doing here?”
“I should have thought that was quite clear,” Nicholas replied, a soft teasing tone to his voice. “We are doing whatever we want, it would seem. I can’t deny that I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you, and I’m not in the habit of denying myself anything I want.”
“Define want.”
“If you’re asking whether or not I’m doing the same things with other men, you need only say so.”
Taylor took a deep breath and nodded. “In that case, I suppose that is ultimately what I wish to know.”
“Since we met, no. I will admit it was not a conscious choice, but if you wish for it to be from now on, it will.” Nicholas paused and gave Taylor a meaningful look. “Is that what you wish? Because I’m not oblivious to the fact that you will one day be married to my cousin and, I assume, expected to provide a few offspring.”
“I should think there’s considerably more pressure on a marquess,” Taylor replied.
“Will you ever stop thinking of me as my title?” Nicholas asked. “So you’re a few steps down from the title I didn’t even ask for. You’re a hair’s breadth away from being the next Earl of Beasley. You know that, don’t you? You must.”
“Of course I know that,” Taylor practically snapped. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you, but of course I’ve spent the last few months dreading what will happen to me, what will be expected of me, should Isaac never return. Before that, all I had to worry about was not dragging the family into too much scandal. Failing that, I was really free to do whatever I liked.”
“And now you may not be,” Nicholas replied softly. “Of course I understand that. Probably better than anyone, and I’m sorry to throw it in your face.”
“It’s quite alright,” Taylor replied, then shook his head. “Only, well, it isn’t really. But I’m doing my best to deal with it, mostly by ignoring it entirely and pretending everything is going to be fine.”
“A time honored British tradition, really.” Nicholas smirked a bit when he said it, and Taylor couldn’t help but laugh, the tension effectively gone from their conversation.
“There’s a big question mark where my future ought to be,” Taylor remarked. “It would be really nice if there was at least one element of it that I didn’t have to question. That’s why I ask. I want to know that in at least one area of my life, I will be able to anticipate what’s coming.”
“And you shall,” Nicholas replied softly. He leaned in and gave Taylor a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry that I like to joke and tease so much. I am, believe it or not, capable of taking things seriously. And I would like to take you very seriously. It won’t be easy for us, but you’re no idiot. You know that. You know what we’re up against, and that it can only get worse from here.”
Taylor nodded. “But in other ways, it can only get better.”
“Another time honored British tradition,” Nicholas replied, giving Taylor another quick peck. “Doing whatever the hell you want as long as you keep up appearances.”
“It’s always been my strong suit,” Taylor said, smiling contentedly.
He still had no clue what the future would hold for him, but he felt a little more secure in knowing that he had someone to share it with, someone who understood the unique pressure put upon him by his birth. Had any of the boys he had known at university understood? One or two, perhaps. Certainly Arthur hadn’t. But Nicholas was someone whose situation was all too similar, although he wore it with such grace that anyone but Taylor would have never known his struggle.
Taylor pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. “Will you spend the night or will that be too much to ask?”
“Not too much at all,” Nicholas replied, then gave a massive yawn that he didn’t even try to hide. “Mmm, I think you’d have been stuck with me whether you wanted to be or not. You’ve exhausted me entirely.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Taylor said softly, pressing his cheek against Nicholas’s neck and letting his eyes fall shut.
The next thing Taylor knew, the morning sun was streaming in the window and he was alone. That didn’t especially surprise him; of course Nicholas would want to sneak out before the maids made their rounds. It still disappointed him. He rolled over to the side where Nicholas had lain and saw that another piece of his stationery sat squarely on the pillow with Taylor’s name on the envelope in Nicholas’s trademark looping handwriting.
Taylor –
I know it is dangerous to put so much of our affair onto paper. Were these words to fall into the wrong hands, we might well be ruined. Still, I find it easier to express myself using the written word than the spoken. I know you will find that amusing; I have practiced to the point that hardly anyone can tell just how nervous I am. I still find myself constantly, to use a ridiculous phrase, putting my foot in my mouth by saying too much—or, conversely, getting myself into trouble by saying too little.
The truth, which I have tried so hard to share with you, is that from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt a deep connection between us. An understanding. One might call it a kinship, but that’s hardly a romantic word. It almost makes me wonder why Lady Natalie waited so long to see that we were introduced. But surely she knows you better than anyone else in the world. She must have seen what would happen were we to meet. I do not mean to disparage my dear cousin; only I think anyone would understand if she wanted to keep some small part of you to herself.
As for me, I do not mean to share you with anyone.
Of course, I know I must share you with her, and so it is lucky that the three of us are such good friends. Natalie may have your name and position, but I mean to have your heart entirely to myself. And of course I wish you to know that the opposite is true as well—that you possess my heart and soul completely.
I am truly sorry that I could not say these words, or any near enough to them, when we lay in bed last night. I hope to rectify this when we next meet, which I hope will be sooner rather than later. Please write as soon as you have returned to Beasley, and we shall make plans for our next—dare I call it such—tryst.
Yours, in any and every sense of the word,
Nicholas
Taylor slid the note back into its envelope and let his head fall back against the pillow. His and only his. Taylor could think of no sweeter words that had ever been written to or indeed spoken to him. He could not wait until he had returned home to return the favor. Not caring that he was still nude, he pulled himself from the bed, wrapped a sheet around his waist, and began to rummage through his luggage for a scrap of paper on which to write a note. If Nicholas had not left, the front desk should surely be able to deliver Taylor’s missive. He could only hope; he did not want his response delayed even one second longer than necessary.
It did not matter one bit that they had only known each other for two weeks. When put that way, it did sound a bit ridiculous, Taylor was forced to admit. But Nicholas was right. The two shared a connection that few others could claim. While Taylor could regret that fate—in the guise of one Natalie Bryant–had not brought them together sooner, he could only be thankful that they were in each other’s lives now.