He pushed his hands into Archer’s hair, thrusting his tongue into the other man’s mouth, rubbing against his. Gasping, he pulled back and found himself captured in Archer’s burning eyes.
Warren grabbed the two sides of Archer’s shirt and ripped them apart. Buttons flew like small projectiles, but he didn’t care.
“My valet will hate you for that.” Archer arched his back when Warren licked around one dark-brown nipple.
“Fuck your valet,” Warren mumbled as he kissed his way across Archer’s chest to the other nipple. The deep covering of dark hair tempted his senses. He drowned in his partner’s scent of iron and pine, with a hint of oil thrown in.
Archer cupped his cheeks and pulled Warren’s head up to his. Their lips met in another knee-weakening kiss, noses bumping, teeth clashing. “No, fuck you.” He copied Warren’s move and tore open Warren’s paint-covered shirt.
Warren shrugged out of it and rubbed his chest against Archer’s. When Archer would have moved, Warren cupped Archer’s hard cock through the fabric still covering it. “Mine. I need you.”
Archer hissed. His hips jerked against Warren’s hand. He dropped his arms and spread his legs. Warren knelt between them and tore open the trouser buttons. Archer’s hard cock pushed against the light cotton fabric of his underpants, which Warren also tore to shreds.
Warren wasn’t sure why his need was so drastic, but he only thought of touching, kissing and caressing Archer. Any part of his gorgeous body.
Archer balled his fists when Warren wrapped his hands around the other man’s naked shaft. The hard length, covered in silky skin, fanned the flames inside Warren. He dropped to his stomach and sucked Archer’s dick into his mouth.
Archer hissed and his hips rose off the sofa.
Warren pressed him back down with one hand while the other played with the lower half of Archer’s cock. He released Archer’s shaft and stroked his thumb along the sensitive underside while teasing the tip with his tongue. He moved his hand up and began to play with the foreskin, pulling it back and pushing it forward again.
Archer groaned. His head dropped back and his eyes closed. “Do it!”
Warren chuckled at the demand, the vibrations running along the dick in his mouth. It was delicious when Archer became demanding.
To continue the teasing he caressed the underside of Archer’s cock both with the flat of his tongue and his thumb, one after the other.
Archer thrust his hands into Warren’s hair and pulled. The touch of pain drove him higher. He rubbed his own cock, caught between his body and the cushion of the sofa, back and forth, needing stimulation as badly as Archer.
“Warren, for fuck’s sake, stop playing. I need it.”
Me too. Warren released Archer’s dick with an audible pop and licked along the base two more times. Then he slid his hand along the moist length until it had reached the head. Slowly, oh so slowly, he pulled the skin back a little and circled the naked tip with his tongue.
Archer tightened his grip in his hair, groaning, making Warren want to thrust his own cock against something.
“More.” Archer spoke through clenched teeth, his whole body under tension like a bow just about to be released.
Warren knew what his lover was after. With delicate teeth he nipped at the sensitive skin still rolled around the naked head. Then he gently released it, watching it cover the head again. He pulled the tip of the cock into his mouth and sucked. Hard. His hand gripped the base of the dick tightly.
He used his stomach muscles to raise his upper body as he circled his other hand around the sensitive sac. With care he increased the pressure on Archer’s balls and the base of the cock while sucking as if his life depended on it.
With a roar Archer let go and streams of semen exploded in Warren’s mouth. He swallowed and gently eased the pressure until he licked the upper half of the cock with light touches.
“Lord,” Archer said. “If I’d known that finding you an intriguing model would result in this I would have looked much harder.”
Warren gave his lover’s cock one last kiss before settling his arm around Archer’s waist and resting his cheek on Archer’s upper thigh. He tried to relax but his throbbing penis made that kind of difficult.
Archer stroked his hair, his breath still uneven. “Give me a moment and I’m all yours.” He panted. “You’re welcome to start without me.”
Warren turned to the side, his cheek still against Archer’s thigh, opened his trousers and pulled down his undergarment. A second of relief flashed through him when he removed the tight constraints.
He clasped his cock, moving up and down the hard length. A low groan escaped him. He increased the force of his grip. Archer moved his hand down the back of Warren’s neck to his shoulders. From there he pushed the rags of the shirt aside and pinched a nipple between two fingers.
Warren flinched and increased the speed of his hand.
Archer gently moved Warren’s head from his thigh until it rested between his spread legs. He leaned forward and teased both of Warren’s nipples. His hardening cock rubbed against Warren’s cheek. “Cup your balls, Warren.”
Archer’s soft words lashed through him.
“Cup them nice and tight. You know, the way you like it.”
Warren followed the order. Archer increased the pressure on Warren’s nipples.
“Yes.” The pinch of pain raced through Warren into every cell in his body. “More,” he panted.
“We’ll get there. First I want you to get rid of the trousers.”
Warren pushed and wiggled until he lay between Archer’s thighs, naked but for the leftovers of the shirt.
“Move up so I can reach better.”
Warren pushed back and up until his shoulders rested against Archer’s chest.
“Much better.” Archer bit his neck, just a slight nip, but enough to drive Warren’s oversensitive body higher. “Spread your legs and grip your dick.” Archer’s husky voice slid across Warren like a touch.
“Arch, I’m not up for much more play.”
Archer rolled Warren’s nipples between his fingers. “Really?” He increased the pressure, moving to that fine line between pain and pleasure. “Are you sure?”
Warren arched his back into his lover’s touch. He tightened his grip on his cock, half cupping his balls as well. So close. So damn close. He bit his tongue to keep his pleas from escaping. It was so much better when Archer chose to act dominant.
Archer rolled the nipples with fingers that bit tighter and tighter.
Warren hardened his grip around balls and dick, rubbing faster and faster. When Archer continued to pinch his nipples but nothing else, Warren couldn’t stand it any longer. “Do it!”
Archer leaned close and dug his teeth into Warren’s shoulder. At the same time he pinched both nipples with a force that catapulted Warren over the edge. He flew apart with a hoarse groan and slumped against Archer.
His lover now tenderly kissed the bite mark and gently rubbed his nipples, helping him to slowly come down.
“I love you.” Warren rubbed his cheek against Archer’s chest, wanting to lean into his partner and never move again. Whatever happened next with Miss Rigdon, he knew it would change them. Most likely on a fundamental level.
As Archer wrapped his arms around Warren and said, “I love you,” Warren could only hope that it would be change for the better.
* * * * *
After a sleepless night Sarah rose early. As she donned a day dress that matched the color of her eyes, she planned her day.
First she would pay Mr. Kemmer a visit and inform him in no uncertain terms that she would pay their taxes within the given time frame. She could send him a letter, but she preferred to do this face-to-face.
She was unsure how he would respond. Kemmer might carry a handsome and trustworthy façade, but beneath it was a whole other person. One who worried her.
Instinct told her he would not be happy to have his plans foiled.
&n
bsp; And he could still hurt her if he spread rumors.
She couldn’t bear to imagine the sly looks and whispers she would have to endure if their financial situation became public knowledge. They depended on the teaching opportunities her father had. How good would it look if a math and science teacher couldn’t keep track of his money?
Sarah straightened her shoulders. It won’t come to that. I’ll make sure.
She picked up her short jacket matching the dress and strode downstairs. Her father sat in the dining room plowing through breakfast and the latest edition of The Inventor.
Sarah nearly choked on the rage that suddenly shot to the surface. She loved her father and had learned early he regretted his mistakes even if that never stopped him from making more. His brain just wasn’t set up for normal chores like paying bills or looking after a house. Something that had worsened after her mother died. It was as if by stepping away from the realities of life he could distance himself from the pain of her loss.
Still, if he, for once, actually behaved like the grown-up he was, she wouldn’t be in this situation.
“There you are, my dear. What are your plans for today?”
She managed to bite back the truth. It wouldn’t do any good. “I have a couple of engagements today and won’t be back until late afternoon.”
He beamed at her. “How delightful, making a day of it with your friends.”
Sure, if you mean telling a perverted tax collector no and meeting two men who want me to strip down to my skin, then yes, I am making a day of it with my friends. Instead of sharing the consequences of his thoughtless actions she remained silent.
He bit his lip and looked somewhat sheepish. “So, the little problem I caused when I built this incantation of my Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device has been dealt with?”
The anger slipped away, leaving only exhaustion. “I am still working on it, Father, but hopefully it should be dealt with by the end of the month.”
“And Latimer has the machine?”
“Yes, I dropped it off yesterday. He did say it would take him some time before he could get to it.”
Relief relaxed his face and his eyes, three shades darker than her own, sparkled again. “I knew you would find a way.” He rolled up his periodical and jumped up. “I have a few more ideas I want to work on.” He walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “I will see you later then, my dear.”
Without waiting for her response he hurried from the dining room. Sarah couldn’t follow his progress, but she knew he’d gone straight down to his workroom.
With a tired sigh she poured herself a strong cup of tea. Knowing the day she had before her, she ate a healthy breakfast.
She cleared the table and set everything to rights. With nothing else holding her back she pulled on her coat and took her ribboned purse off the hook. She pinned her hat down with her best hatpin and studied herself in the mirror.
It had to do. She straightened her shoulders and headed out.
Mr. Kemmer was her first stop.
Chapter Three
Sarah took the steam bus to the tax office. The ride and accompanying walk didn’t take her long. She stepped over the threshold into what appeared to be controlled chaos. Worker bees hurried to and fro. Sarah worried she’d step in their way and make them drop the stacks of paperwork in their arms.
She weaved her way to a young man occupying the large reception desk. “Good morning. I am Miss Rigdon and need to speak with Mr. Kemmer.”
He jumped to his feet. “Of course, Miss Rigdon. If you would be so kind and take a seat I will just run in and ensure he is available.” He gestured to solid brown chairs grouped in another corner.
Sarah nodded her thanks and took a seat. This early in the morning she appeared to be the only one wanting to speak with Kemmer. The young man came back and apologized profusely, explaining Mr. Kemmer was very busy and would be a few more minutes.
Understanding the delay as a way to make her feel powerless, Sarah just nodded and assured the young man she was happy to wait.
And wait she did.
Kemmer pretended to be occupied for close to thirty minutes, a slap in the face to every well-respected lady. Sarah gritted her teeth but continued to pretend sitting there meant nothing to her. Inside her temper roiled. She wanted nothing more than to storm out of the office and never come back.
But she couldn’t.
Not only did Kemmer expect an answer today, but she needed to take back some power for herself, needed to stand up and show the weasel she was not a helpless woman without options.
Finally the door opened and Kemmer came out. Sarah remained seated, waiting for him to come to her. He was tall, well-proportioned and with wide shoulders, and she imagined he made women feel protected. His black hair had graying streaks that gave him a distinguished appearance. Trustworthy and reliable.
Or so the women would think.
His presence made her palms grow moist and her mouth dry. He unnerved her on every level and had done so from the very first day they’d met.
He stopped beside her chair and bowed. “Miss Rigdon, what a delightful surprise.”
Sarah just barely managed to contain her eye roll. She rose, ignoring the hand he stretched out to assist her. “Mr. Kemmer.”
His gaze narrowed slightly, but his vapid smile stayed the same. He gestured to the door he’d just stepped though. “Please come with me.”
She turned in such a manner he couldn’t offer her his arm and strode toward his office. He scrambled after her, but she didn’t slow down and marched right up to one of the chairs set before his big desk.
Kemmer closed the door with a hint of force. His jaw appeared clenched as he sat in the chair beside her, the scent of his overpowering cologne nearly choking her.
“Mr. Kemmer, I have come today to inform you that our taxes will be paid in full within the established time frame.” Her tone sharpened and she met his eyes head-on, wanting to ensure he fully understood. “There will be no need for any sort of outside deal, any new plan nor any need to assist us with our payment.”
With every word his nostrils flared and his neck grew corded. He remained silent for a moment after she’d finished. Then he cracked his knuckles, rose and slowly walked behind his desk and sat.
“Is that indeed the case?” His voice had taken on an edge.
A small shiver ran down Sarah’s back, but she pushed on. “Yes, it is.”
“And how did you come into the money to make the payment?”
“I do not believe that it is any of your business. It does not affect our estate.”
He pressed his lips together and studied his hands. His fingers were white, he held them so tightly together. “So you no longer find yourself in a situation where you require my…assistance.”
“You mean do I still find myself in a position where I have to give in to your blackmail and allow you to take liberties with me that are utterly and completely improper? No, I do not.” The irony that she was now beholden in the same way to Latimer and Dorvee didn’t escape her. But they didn’t make her skin crawl, so for some reason it was all right.
He continued to study his hands. When he looked up and their eyes met, the hairs rose on the back of her neck.
Rage filled Kemmer’s expression.
She had no idea why he had such a strong reaction to her words. It occurred to Sarah for the first time that perhaps Kemmer was involved in some sort of scheme beyond taking advantage of her situation.
He didn’t blink once, his stare frozen on her.
She got to her feet, her heart racing and her stomach churning. “I will see myself out.” Sarah wanted to flee, but instead set one foot before the other until she reached the door.
Before she could open it Kemmer spoke. “You are an intelligent woman, Miss Rigdon. You know I will not just let this go.”
Sarah didn’t turn back, but strode out of the room and the tax office. Only when she’d reached the street could she t
ake a proper breath. Her hands shook as she adjusted her gloves.
That went well. The snippy comment inside her mind helped to restore her composure. What in the Lord’s name did he mean? She took a deep breath and looked around to reorient herself. Kemmer’s words had unsettled her far more than she wanted to admit to herself. She dug through her purse to see what money she had with her.
Not enough to catch a hansom to Latimer’s place.
With a mental curse she turned left toward Hyde Park. The walk will do you good. Remember what Mrs. Olsen said at the last tea party. The image of Mrs. Olsen peering through her old-fashioned lorgnette and studying her full curves in great detail and with a shaking head flashed before her inner eye.
Sarah focused all her attention on her next step in an attempt to push her circling thoughts to one side. It didn’t work.
Out of the corner of her eye she thought she recognized a young man she’d seen in Kemmer’s office lugging papers back and forth falling into step beside her. But when she stopped and looked around he was gone.
Shaking her head and struggling to pull herself together, she marched on.
Whatever Kemmer meant, there was nothing he could do. She would get the money and pay in time. But what if he moved the date by which she had to pay? He ran the tax office and had the power to make her paperwork disappear or change.
That thought and others fluttered through her mind on the long walk to Latimer’s house, with intermittent panicked thoughts of what was to come once she’d reached her destination.
By the time she’d turned onto a small walkway and approached the hidden side entrance she’d worked herself into a state. The weight on her chest grew with every step. She nearly panted, her breathing uneven, when she knocked on the door.
It swung open and showed her a shirt-sleeved Jennings. “Miss Rigdon!” He paled, pinching his lips together even more tightly. Sarah stepped into a small foyer that led to the kitchen. Once he’d closed the door behind her he hurried past, grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and shrugged it on. “Apologies, miss. I wasn’t expecting you.”
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