Revolutionary Temptation

by Silvia Violet

  “I…”

  His words trailed off as Eli stroked his member with a firm grip. When he was fully hard again, his lips were parted and the tension in his body had eased. Eli pulled almost all the way out and drove in again, much faster this time.

  Jack gasped.

  “Ready for more?”

  He nodded, and Eli let Jack take over stroking his prick so he could concentrate on fucking him, moving slowly until Jack was squirming under him.

  “More. I want more,” Jack demanded.

  “Yes, you do.”

  Eli shifted position so he could go deeper. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

  “Want this, Eli. Now.” Eli pulled out, and Jack whimpered. “Please!”

  “Told you I’d make you beg.”

  “Eli!”

  Eli fucked him faster, making sure the angle allowed him to peg Jack’s gland. Jack’s hand moved furiously on his cock. His face was flushed, and the good kind of tension was building in him now, the kind that came before release.

  “I want to watch you go off, Jack. Do it.”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut, and with a shout he spilled his seed, shooting hard enough to hit himself in the chin.

  “Incredible. Fucking incredible,” Eli said. He’d been trying to hold himself back, but now he surrendered to the tight heat of Jack’s ass. A few strokes and he let go, pumping out his spend.

  Eli could barely support himself on his arms when he was done. “You okay?”

  “I…think so,” Jack said. His eyes were glassy, and he was wearing a ludicrous grin.

  Eli chuckled. He was nearly as dazed himself. “I’m going to pull out now. Brace yourself.”

  Eli’s cock slipped from Jack’s body, and Jack sucked in his breath. “Fuck.”

  “Sore?”

  “Whew! Yes.”

  Eli hoped he’d been gentle enough. “I—”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s all right. I…wanted this. So much.”

  “Me too,” Eli said.

  Jack held out his arms, and Eli cuddled into his embrace, unconcerned with the mess they’d made. Jack’s warmth felt absolutely perfect. For that moment, Jack was his and everything was right with the world.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A few weeks later, on a cold, rainy afternoon, Jack flipped through the letters Constance’s butler had placed on the table in the entryway. Ah yes, there was the one he’d been expecting.

  He carried it with him to the upstairs parlor. He knew what he hoped it would say, and yet, he also longed for a few more days in Eli’s bed… He shook his head. No, he was already in far too deep. He’d always known his time with Eli wasn’t going to last forever.

  He sat down at the desk, opened the drawer, and extracted the cipher plate. When he laid it over the letter, it said: Planning spring campaign. Return to camp as soon as possible.

  So this was it. He was going to head into battle again. His leg still pained him. He probably needed to accept that it would never be fully healed, but he wanted back in the action. He wanted to do something that was more tangible than talking and listening. Yes, he and Eli and Constance had discovered useful information, though they still didn’t know whether Howe intended to seize Philadelphia or head into the highlands to attempt to join forces with Burgoyne. Tallmadge and Washington were pleased with the operation, but Constance and Eli could continue it. There were a few others they’d considered recruiting, as well.

  Jack extracted a sheet of paper from the desk and began to pen his reply. He’d put it in the post, and then he’d tell Constance and Eli. Constance would expect it. Signs of spring were showing themselves. Eli should know too, but Jack had a feeling Eli was resisting the inevitable, not seeing what was so plainly in front of him.

  For the last month, they might as well have been living in one of the melodramatic romances Eli enjoyed. Spying, stealing away for moments of passion, taking insane risks, which was another good reason for him to leave. They’d been lucky, but as indiscreet as they’d often been—even he had abandoned years of being careful—how could that last?

  But when he considered the reality of leaving Eli, he couldn’t swallow past the knot in his throat. How long would it take him to overcome his feelings for the man? Maybe since Eli wouldn’t be around, it wouldn’t be too painful. He could hope, couldn’t he?

  ***

  Two days later, Eli entered Constance’s parlor. She was hosting a party that evening with quite a few high-ranking British officers in attendance. She’d asked Eli to arrive early so they could discuss strategy.

  Constance was wearing a lavender gown with a square neckline and a stomacher embroidered with black and gold thread. Her hair was piled high with a few artful curls laid across her shoulders.

  “You look ravishing as always.” Eli captured her hand in one of his.

  “Why thank you, kind sir,” she said, curtseying dramatically.

  Jack snorted. He always found their outlandish flirting preposterous.

  “He’s jealous,” Eli said in a loud whisper. He gave Jack a very obvious once-over. “You’re looking particularly handsome yourself.”

  Jack wore a dark-brown coat over a waistcoat of gray and black. His ensemble highlighted the fact that his hair was such a deep brown it was nearly black.

  “Can we get on with planning our evening?” Jack asked, feigning more exasperation than he likely felt.

  Constance took Eli’s arm and led him toward the sofa. “You would think he’d let us have a little fun, since this will be our last time together.”

  Eli frowned. “Last…time? What do you mean?”

  The look of horror on Constance’s face made Eli’s stomach clench.

  She looked at Jack. “I’m sorry. I thought…”

  “You’re leaving?” How could Jack have hidden this from him?

  Jack kept his expression neutral. “I’ve been called back to the army.”

  This couldn’t be happening; not now. Not when they’d been so happy. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Soon.”

  Constance snorted. “I should hope so. He’s leaving tomorrow.”

  Jack winced.

  “Tomorrow!”

  “Tallmadge asked me to return as soon as possible. I wanted to see if we learned anything tonight so I could carry the information back. I was going to tell you after the party.”

  “Were you? Or were you just going to leave?” Eli was aware how pathetic he sounded, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Maybe I should give the two of you some time alone,” Constance said.

  “No!” Eli shouted. The word echoed in the room. “We need a strategy for tonight, so let’s make one.”

  “Eli, I—”

  Eli glared at Jack. “You intended to talk to me after the party, so save whatever you want to say until then.”

  “You know why I put this off.”

  Eli turned away, digging his nails into his palms. “Don’t.”

  Constance cleared her throat. “Maybe we should—”

  Eli composed himself and turned to face them again. “I’ll deal with Colonel Stephens. His wife will likely seek me out, since she’s still hoping to seduce me. I’ll learn what I can from her and see if I can manage a conversation with her husband, or rather stand in front of him while he blusters.”

  Constance smiled. “That is how he conducts most of his interactions.”

  “Will Howe be here?” Jack asked.

  “He hasn’t responded to the invitation, but that means nothing,” Constance said. “He doesn’t feel the need to announce himself. I’ll deal with him if he appears.”

  They continued discussing the notables who would likely attend.

  “Our priority is still to find out what we can about Howe’s plans for the spring campaign,” Jack reminded them when they’d completed the list.

  Eli spoke up. “Howe’s a man who believes in doing what he wants. I think he’ll go to Philadelphia because he longs to be the one
who takes the capital.”

  “But you have nothing conclusive to back up your thoughts.”

  Eli wanted to scream, but instead he said a quiet no.

  “I’ll need you to keep working on that after I’m gone,” Jack said.

  “Of course, I live to do your bidding.”

  “Eli, this isn’t about me.”

  “If it were, I wouldn’t be doing it.” Eli turned to Constance. “Is there anything else we should know?”

  She glanced between Eli and Jack, her discomfort with the situation obvious. “If Howe does appear, we should be aware of anyone in his retinue. They may know as much as he does. He’s indecisive, but not particularly secretive.”

  Jack started to say something else, but a knock on the door interrupted him.

  “Come in,” Constance said.

  It was a footman. “Guests have begun to arrive, madam.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be down shortly to receive them.”

  Jack sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Yes, we’ll try to hurry the guests out so you can pack your things. Maybe you could start out tonight since you’re in such a hurry.”

  “Eli.” Constance used a warning tone.

  He stood. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

  ***

  “I’m sorry,” Constance said as the door shut behind Eli.

  Jack shook his head. “Don’t be. I should have told him.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  “I…”

  “Knew he’d react badly no matter when you said it?” Constance asked.

  Jack nodded. “It was never the plan for me to stay here beyond the spring thaw. I have to go.”

  “Do you?”

  She was far too shrewd. “The truth is I want to go.”

  “Did Major Tallmadge actually ask you to return, or did you make the decision yourself?”

  “He did. But in my last letter I told him my leg was much improved and I was eager to be back with the army.”

  Constance studied him for a few moments. “In other words, you’d rather risk your life on the battlefield than your heart here with Eli.”

  “That’s not fair. I volunteered to be a soldier, not to engage in spy games.”

  “You’re scared.”

  “A coward would hardly choose the battlefield over night after night of indulgent parties,” Jack said, refusing to address what she really meant. “I made it clear from the beginning that this was temporary.”

  “Spying or Eli?”

  He scowled. “Both.”

  “You hurt him.”

  Jack scoffed. “Is that possible?”

  “Jack West. I thought I’d taught you better than that. If you don’t understand that man covers up all his real feelings with charm, arrogance, and self-serving behaviors, you’re no good to me anyway. He practically declared his love for you right here.”

  “No, he was just vexed that I hadn’t—”

  She raised a brow.

  Jack wasn’t going to fool Constance. “I know what he feels.”

  “And you? What do you feel?”

  Jack’s chest tightened. He could barely breathe. “Don’t you know?”

  “I’m curious whether you’ll admit it.”

  “Men don’t love each other. It’s…”

  “Wrong? Impossible?”

  “Yes!”

  Constance didn’t speak, and the silence grew uncomfortable.

  “There’s no future for me and Eli. Do you think we’re going to take a house together after the war? Have a family? There’s no path for us but destruction. My leaving might save him from that.”

  “I rather think it might guarantee it,” Constance said.

  Why couldn’t she and Eli see reason? “I cannot be responsible for his indiscretion. I never wanted this mission.”

  “Eli had nothing to do with sending you here.”

  “No, he just made it worse.”

  Constance glared at him.

  His mind was inundated with images of Eli making his weeks in New York some of the best of his life. “He knew I didn’t want to be here.”

  “I’m sure he did, but Eli ignores everything he doesn’t like.”

  Jack huffed. “That isn’t my fault.”

  “No, but not telling him the truth is.”

  Jack couldn’t argue that point. “Yes, it is.”

  “Find him after the party. Don’t just ride off tomorrow without talking to him.”

  “I will.”

  Constance considered him as if trying to determine whether or not he was telling the truth. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, “We should see to the guests.”

  ***

  Eli saw Mrs. Stephens near the door to the game room, alone. She looked bored and displeased, which meant it was the perfect time to charm some information from her.

  He made his way across the crowded room until he stood beside her. “How is it that such a lovely lady is on her own?”

  “Ah, Mr. Ashfield.” She fluttered her fan coquettishly. “Perhaps I was waiting for someone alluring enough to capture my attention.”

  “I shall have to endeavor to find someone to fit that role.” He made a show of glancing around the room.

  She tapped his arm with her fan. “You are too much. You know I intend to make do with you for now at least.” She took his arm. “I wish to take a turn about the gardens.”

  He was furious with Jack, and he’d have liked nothing more than to show the man he wasn’t going to pine for him by taking Mrs. Stephens into the garden and fucking her soundly. And that was exactly why he wouldn’t do it. Anger had him off balance. He needed all his wits about him if he intended to start an affair with an informant. “The night is quite chilly. Perhaps we should warm ourselves with a dance first?”

  “Why do we always end up talking about the weather, Mr. Ashfield?”

  “I don’t know. I must be quite remiss in my conversational duties.”

  She slid her fan along his arm. “That you are.”

  He inclined his head toward the dancers. “Shall we?”

  They joined a set for the next dance, and Eli was thankful Jack wasn’t part of it. As they wove between the other dancers, Mrs. Stephens watched Eli with a predatory gaze the entire time. He was going to have his work cut out for him if he wished to refuse without offending her.

  When the dance ended she laid a hand on her chest, drawing attention to her décolletage. “I’m all out of breath.”

  Eli gave a concerned look. “Perhaps a walk would be too exerting.”

  “I’m sure I’ll feel quite myself again once I’m out of this oppressive crowd.”

  Eli considered his options. If he stepped outside with her, he could pretend not to know what they were about, but she would never believe he was that innocent. If he turned her down once they were alone, he would insult her, and he might never learn more of her husband’s dealings.

  He genuinely liked her and imagined her to be an enthusiastic lover. He’d been foolish to hold himself back from bedding her because of Jack, since the man was obviously thrilled to be getting away from him. So the timing wasn’t perfect. To hell with being sensible. It hadn’t done a damn thing for him with Jack.

  “If fresh air is what you need, then I’ll acquire our wraps,” he said.

  “Don’t be long. I loathe having to wait another moment in this confining space.”

  He supposed he should be flattered by her eagerness.

  Once a footman had brought their cloaks, they exited the ballroom. Only a few others had braved the chilly night. The air was damp, but snow was not yet falling. The signs of spring that had begun to show themselves had fled.

  Mrs. Stephens shivered, and he drew her closer. As they stepped onto the gravel path, he said, “Did your husband ever connect with his spy?”

  “Apparently, he did.”

  “Excellent news. I hope he’s learning something profitable for His Majesty’s forces. Perhaps
this man will bring more information.”

  Mrs. Stephens scoffed. “I’m not sure what he’s learned, but I doubt they’ve met again, at least not at the same spot. I overheard him say someone was in the woods watching him, which seems unlikely to me. There are many reasons to be in the woods at night, most of them underhanded, certainly, but who would stand out in the cold listening to my husband? I know I would not.”

  Eli laughed. “Neither would I, Mrs. Stephens. That sounds most unpleasant.”

  “Very true. Perhaps we can find more pleasant things to discuss. You may call me Rosemary if you like.”

  “You wish such intimacy?”

  “You are coy, Mr. Ashfield. I think you well know I didn’t come out here to discuss my husband.”

  “As a gentleman, I do not like to make assumptions about a lady’s motives.”

  “You are to be commended for that, but a lady hardly wants to come right out and say what she wants.”

  “Of course not. You prefer to keep us men guessing,” Eli said.

  “Oh, I think I’ve made myself rather clear.”

  ***

  Jack spent the evening listening to loads of mindless nonsense, most of it offensive as hell, spewed from the mouths of the supposed stars of the British military. He’d come damn close to punching a few officers.

  He glanced around the room, looking for Eli, unsure if he really wanted to find him. Possibly not. What could he say to make things right?

  Eli didn’t appear to be in the ballroom, but he saw Constance near the door to the hall. Colonel Stephens had a hand on her arm, and she did not look pleased.

  “Excuse me,” Jack said as he slipped between two dancing couples. The dance floor was crowded, and he couldn’t move as quickly as he liked. He was grateful for his height, which allowed him to keep an eye on Constance as he attempted to cross the room. By the time he reached the door, the colonel had pulled Constance into the entryway. She was pale, her eyes wide. He’d never seen her look so scared before.

  “Mrs. Sullivan?”

  “Mr. West.” She looked relieved at his appearance, but he detected a quaver in her. “You know Colonel Stephens, of course.” She used her free hand to indicate the man standing next to her. “Colonel, you remember Mr. West?”

  The colonel ignored her. “Mrs. Sullivan and I—”