In the Company of Men Boxed Set

by Lynn Lorenz

  His love, knowing he loved me, and that he’d marked his body with my namesake, brought me low. He had always bested me when it came to shows of love and affection. I’d lived a hard life, with little love ever shown to me by my family, so when love came to me, I hadn’t recognized it until it was too late and Ansel lay dead in my arms on a battlefield.

  Thank God, I’d seen it again in Logan’s green eyes and knew it for what it was—his love for me.

  He took his time, as if we had the entire night to make love, his body laid over mine, the friction between us soon replaced with the slickness of our sweat. The slow snap of his hips as he thrust into me, each of his movements bringing me closer to my end, rocked my body against the linens.

  When he reached out, entwined his fingers with mine and then laid his head against the back of my neck, I shuddered from the sheer beauty of it. From the love I felt flowing from him into me.

  He shifted and stroked over my spot, and my cock throbbed. My sac drew tight, and I knew with a few more, he’d take me over the edge. Slow and sure, his perfectly placed thrusts pushed me closer, small sweet nudges, as he took his time and drove me to the point of insanity.

  No hard ride was this, but one of such loving and tenderness, I broke.

  “Logan, God, I love you so much.” I wept, my face buried in the pillow, my fingers clenching his, never to let him go, my ass receiving what he gave me.

  “Drake, you are mine. I claim you. I wear you on my heart, now and forever. When I die, you will be with me always.” He kissed my cheek, licked my scar, and then bit my shoulder.

  More than I could stand against, I erupted against the linens, my body shuddered, tense and taut, until I lay empty. Logan kissed me again, rode me for another few strokes, and groaned.

  “Drake!” He filled my channel with his warm seed, his body frozen as if wrapped in ice. He collapsed and gathered his arms around me, our hands still tightly woven together.

  We slept until dawn, he half on, half off me, and I beneath him.

  As much as I thought myself in control, Logan was my master in all things. The master of my body, my heart, and my soul.

  I might have been master of arms of Marden, but he was master of Drake, the man.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning I met with Peter, gave him the report on the outposts, and a small purse with the money owed the blacksmith. We discussed a possible replacement for Michael, should he fail to recover from the fever. The man would have to be carefully chosen, to work with the other two men and understand the bonds between them. No easy task.

  For now, we left it alone, praying for a return to full health.

  Afterward, I went to the stables to check on Horse. He nickered at me when he heard my voice. He looked well and even tried to bite one of the stable boys, so he must have recovered.

  As for myself, the hardest part was forcing myself to go outside and face the cold. I’d just warmed, and to return to the chilling air gave me pause. But I gathered my cloak and stepped out of the door, crossed the bailey to the stables, and ducked inside before I let my mind talk me out of it.

  It wasn’t so bad, if only for the brief time it took to cross from building to building, but even such short exposure had me longing for the fire and a cup of mulled wine.

  After our noon meal, I spent the rest of the day giving in to my weakness, feet stretched out, a goblet in my hand, with my duke by my side. Around the hall, the servants prepared for the night’s feast.

  Only a few days left of the season, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. From the look on Logan’s face, he too seemed ready for it to end. Unlike him, there was no absolute need for me to attend.

  “I’m tempted to beg off for tonight, my duke.”

  “Oh no, my lord. You must attend me. For too long you have been missed at my table.” He grinned at me.

  “It’s not like I have any role to play.” I shrugged, still trying to wiggle free, like a rabbit caught in a trap.

  “Your role is to sit by my side.” He shook his head. “I’ll have nothing less than my master of arms sitting beside me.”

  I sighed. “If you insist.”

  “I do.”

  “Then I will attend.”

  “Joss will enjoy it also.” He nodded.

  “Had he not come to the feast while I was away?” Again, guilt rolled up into a ball in my gut.

  “He did and sat next to Tomas. Brave boy, he tried so hard not to look sad. But your absence had all of us out of the spirit of the holidays.” He glanced at me with a half smile, meant to encourage me, no doubt. It only made my heart ache.

  “I’m sorry. Truly I am.” I could only hang my head at the knowledge of what grief my foolishness had caused.

  There was a long silence.

  “Why did you run?” Logan whispered, still staring into the fire.

  I struggled to put my feelings into words that would make sane my actions. “I think if I had stayed, things would have become very bad. The thought of you…replacing me.” I shrugged. “It was too great for me to bear without bringing my blood to a boil.”

  He stared at me, his brow furrowed.

  “I was spoiling for a fight, Your Grace. I had no wish to spill anyone’s blood. Not even Duncan’s and especially not—” I halted before I said the words.

  “Mine.” Logan nodded. “Then it was best you left and took the time to cool down.”

  “Aye. My thoughts. But freezing half to death wasn’t what I had in mind.” I chuckled.

  “Know this, master of arms.” Logan stood. “You are not replaceable. No one could take your place. Not here, not here.” He pounded his fist on his chest, over the blue marking.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” I nodded. “Where away?”

  “I promised Tomas I’d play with him this afternoon. We haven’t had much time alone since you’ve been gone.”

  “Why not?” I didn’t know why my absence would make it so.

  “He’s been staying with Joss. He says to keep Joss from being so sad all the time.” Logan gave me a smile, his green eyes twinkling. “They are so good for each other, are they not?”

  “Aye. Brothers in all but blood.”

  “As you well know, blood ties are not the strongest.”

  “No, they’re not. It’s the bindings the heart makes that hold the longest and the best.”

  He gave me a nod and left. I watched my lover stride across the great hall and up the stairs to his son.

  I pushed out of my chair. I had my own son to find and play with this afternoon. Taking the stairs two at a time, I followed where my heart led.

  »»•««

  At the feast, Joss and I sat next to each other, talking and taking note of the nobles gathered. He marveled at their finery, and I decided come spring to have new clothes made for him. Something more than rough linens and wools. Perhaps a pair of leather riding breeches and a vest he could wear when he rode his new pony.

  Tomorrow night, on the last night of Epiphany, I’d give him the gelding. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

  “I can’t wait to give Tomas his gift tomorrow,” he leaned over and told me, lowering his voice so Tomas couldn’t hear, although music and noise filling the hall made that impossible.

  “And I’ll wager he can’t wait to give you yours.” I laughed.

  “Did you get the duke a gift?” he asked, casting his gaze on Logan, then darting back to hide from him.

  “Aye. I did.”

  “Where is it? Can I see it?” His eyes widened.

  “Nay, lad. It’s hidden. You’ll see it tomorrow night, just like he will.”

  “Psht.” He blew out his breath and frowned. Then I saw an idea cross his face as his eyes widened again. “What do you think the duke will give you?”

  Joss didn’t know, but Logan had given me the greatest gift possible; however, it was one I couldn’t share. Not even with my son.

  “I need nothing from him.” But again, I won
dered if Logan had gotten me a gift, for appearance’s sake. Probably the boots he’d been going on about this winter. A fine gift, and I couldn’t deny they were needed.

  “But Da, won’t he give you something tonight?”

  “Tonight? Why tonight?”

  “So everyone can see he holds you in high esteem, just like he’s showing everyone else here.” Joss waved his arm at the tables below us.

  “Well…” I had no idea what to say to that. Logan took this opportunity to show his pleasure and displeasure of his nobles. Of his household, I thought it would be tomorrow night.

  At that moment, Logan stood, raised his goblet of wassail, and toasted the night, the holiday, and everyone gathered here. We all raised our cups and drank to his good health. He sat, and called the first man forward.

  This was the part of the evening that dragged me under, causing my eyelids to weigh so heavy I could barely keep them open. I put my chin on my fist and leaned on my elbow, the better to doze by. Someone would wake me if I were needed.

  Logan’s voice droned on as he called name after name, until I no longer listened.

  “Da!” Joss’s voice woke me. “The duke has presented a great gift to his steward.”

  I cleared my vision by rubbing my eyes, and just caught the steward as he returned to his seat at our table.

  “Master of Horses!” Logan’s voice rang out and our stable master rose, went to the front of the table and kneeled to receive his gift.

  Logan placed a fine riding crop, the end done in bright silver, with Logan’s crest engraved on it. Truly a magnificent gift.

  “Your Grace!” The man got to his feet, picked it up, and studied it. “I’ve never seen anything so fine.”

  “Da, he’s giving his gifts now!” Joss whispered as he tugged on my sleeve. “I’ll bet you’re next.”

  “Shhh.” I silenced him. Would I be next? I leaned back in my chair to scout the gifts laid out on a small table behind Logan. No boots. “Not tonight, son.”

  “But if he doesn’t give you something, everyone will think he doesn’t like you.” Joss’s voice rose in anguish. I put my arm around him and pulled him to me.

  “But we both know that’s not true.”

  “But they don’t know. They don’t know.” Joss’s eyes filled with tears, so worried he was about what it would look like to everyone else. I hadn’t thought of it that way and certainly not from the eyes of a child without understanding of the bond between Logan and me.

  Logan called for his head cook, and presented him with a fine carving blade.

  Logan called for Peter, and gave him a fine new short sword and thanked him for his service.

  Joss tugged on my vest. “You’re next! I just know it.”

  I glanced at the table. It stood empty, the gifts all given out. I hadn’t the heart to repeat to Joss there would be no gift from Logan tonight.

  “Master of Arms!” Logan’s voice rang out.

  Joss squealed and pulled on my arm harder. “See!” he whispered.

  I turned and looked at Logan. He waited for me to present myself. Slowly I pushed my chair back and got to my feet as my mind ran through countless possibilities, and came up with nothing.

  What could Logan give me that he hadn’t already given me, and that we could share with those gathered?

  I came around to the front of the table and fell to one knee, head bowed. I had no idea what Logan had planned but knew I would learn of it shortly.

  “Of all the gifts I give tonight, this one pleases me the most,” Logan began. “Drake has been my most treasured man. He saved my son from death, and he’s guarded these lands as if they were his own.”

  I glanced up at him to gain some understanding, but he only smiled at me. Looking quite pleased, in truth. What could this be?

  “So to honor him and to show to one and all his importance to me and to this land, I bestow on him the title of Lord Drake of Marden, and give him the lands laid out in this letter.” He pulled a rolled parchment from his vest and held it out to me.

  I stared up at him, mouth open, unable to speak or understand what he’d done.

  “You? Me?” I stammered. He’d done the unthinkable, the unexpected, the unbelievable, and given me my title back. The one I’d so rashly given away as a youth.

  “You cannot refuse, Lord Drake.” His eyes glittered with humor at my predicament. He knew how I hated being called Lord and had warned others away from using it. Now, it would be their duty to use the title.

  Damn the man.

  “Oh, Da!” Joss finally found his voice, and I looked up at his shining, tearstained face. “Oh, oh, oh!” He clapped his hands together.

  If I turned this down, if I refused this, it would crush Joss.

  My gaze darted to Logan. He glanced at Joss and held out the parchment again.

  “Take it, fool,” he whispered, this time his gaze begging me.

  “For the boy’s sake,” I whispered back as I stepped forward to take it from him and claim my new title and my lands.

  My title.

  Good God, my lands. I had lands once again? And a title. How long had it been? A lifetime, at least.

  I cleared my throat as the crowd waited. “Thank you, Your Grace. This is most unexpected and certainly undeserved. I am most humbled.” I bowed to him and stepped back.

  Logan smiled and watched as I returned to my seat beside him.

  He raised his goblet, as the servants passed among the crowd filling cups, goblets and tankards, then he gave the closing toast and bid everyone a good night, a merry Twelfth Night, and a blessed year.

  They dispersed, and the great hall emptied. Tomas had fallen asleep in his chair, and Logan picked him up. “I’m off to put him to bed. Are you coming?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “Joss? It’s bedtime.” I held out my hand, and before my son took it, he rushed to Logan and threw his arms around his waist. Logan embraced him and pulled him close.

  “Thank you, Logan!” He looked up. “I knew my da was your favorite, and now everyone knows it also!”

  Logan’s gaze met mine. “I’m glad they know, Joss. I am proud to have your father’s love and respect. He’s a great man.”

  “Aye, he is. And I know he loves and respects you also.” Joss looked back at me and winked. He let Logan go and came to me, holding out his hand for me to take.

  I took it, then swung him up on my shoulders to ride my back. “Good God, you’re getting heavy!” I huffed and puffed, pretending to stagger under his weight.

  Joss laughed and tugged at my hair to hold on. “Don’t fall! I’m not that big, Da!” Giggling, we climbed the stairs, with Logan carrying a sleeping Tomas, to the boys’ room and put our sons to bed.

  Chapter Twelve

  I undressed, but this night I wore nothing.

  The door between our rooms had been shut but not locked.

  Logan opened the door, naked also, and leaned in the doorway.

  “Well, Lord Drake, which shall it be?” He grinned, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in the way that caused my heart to pound.

  “What does Your Grace wish?” I sat in my chair, facing him. Both of our cocks stood rearing, moist with dewdrops.

  “I wish to make love to my most favorite nobleman, my Lord Drake.”

  I sighed. “Once again, you’ve bested me. Given me such a wondrous gift, one I can never match.”

  “Are you angry with me?” Logan tilted his head, looking only a little sorry.

  “No. Never.”

  “Truly? I know how you felt about your title, but I took the risk.” He played with a tress of his long hair.

  “It was well worth it, Your Grace, if only to see Joss’s face. He needed this, I believe. And in a way, I needed it also.” I stood and went to him, taking the lock from his hand. “You’ve restored me, Logan. Given me all I had lost. Family. Title. Lands.”

  “Anything else?” He pulled the hair from me, and I let it slip through my fingers.


  “The best gift of all. Your love.”

  He cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my scar. “You are my most favored nobleman.” Then he leaned in and kissed me.

  Soft, tender, filled with the love of a remarkable man, a man I was honored to have known, much less shared love with him.

  He broke away and looked up at me from under his eyelashes.

  “Your room tonight, I think.” I took him in my arms and walked him backward into his room, then kicked the door closed.

  “Good. I’m in need of a good fucking, my lord.” He fell back on the bed and held out his arms for me to join him.

  “And I am in the mood for giving you one. We are most fortunate.”

  With those words, I climbed into bed and fell on him as I devoured his mouth with mine. My tongue found his, teased it, sucked it, pulled on it, until he moaned and writhed beneath me.

  We rutted against each other, our bodies seeking complete contact, searching for fulfillment. Knowing we’d find it here in each other’s arms and in the beds we shared every night.

  He bucked underneath me, begging, “Fuck me, Drake.”

  I pushed up and looked down at him. The blue drake on his chest set my cock to throbbing, just to think of what he’d done for me.

  I leaned down and kissed his chest, just there, on the marking. “Mine,” I said, between kisses. He moaned and carded his fingers through my hair.

  “Yours.”

  I worried his nipple with my teeth, earning gasps of pleasure from him.

  “Now, please,” he begged.

  I knew the moment his body surrendered to me when his legs fell open, and his hands fisted the linens. His back arched upward, and his cock slapped his belly.

  I found the bottle of oil and coated my rod with it to ease the way, then with a gentle push, slipped inside him. He held me tight, his body a warm glove. The pleasure he gave me when we were like this never lessened, but grew with each taking.

  “Drake,” he said as he touched my shoulder and nodded, letting me know I could proceed. I supported my body above his with my arms, so I could gaze down at his face as we made love.