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“She will be,” Albie said. “They’ll stay in the house,” he added. No explanation, no justification. He said it like the boss, and it was taken as such. Though Percy shovelled in his food so he didn’t feel obliged to bring up the subject of room sharing. Albie, thankfully, didn’t either.
“The wagon’s in good order,” Des said. “Their horse is poor, though. She’ll do well with some proper feed.”
“And Elsie said they’ll cook,” Robert added, excited. Then he winced. “Not that I don’t appreciate your cooking, Albie.”
Albie laughed. “For a man that’s never cooked a meal in his life, you have such strong opinions on my food. Did you want to cook one night and see how you fare?”
Robert made a face and ducked his head. “Ah, no. I don’t think that’d be fair on anyone, least of all the rabbit that gave its life for the meal.”
Albie was still smiling. “But I do agree. Not having to worry about cooking means I can spend more time working the farm, and hope to bring in more money.”
With two more mouths to feed, he’d need to, Percy thought. Though he didn’t say it out loud. It seemed he didn’t have to. Everyone nodded and went back to eating.
But then dinner was done and cleared away. Des and Robert had gone back to their quarters, and Elsie had declared goodnight and promised to be up to cook breakfast first thing.
Then it was just Percy and Albie, and only the fire and one lantern for light. Percy could have sworn the house felt smaller, hotter, and the air seemed thicker. He knew they’d be heading to bed soon and what that meant.
His nerves were strung tight; anticipation and a mix of fear were pooling deep in his belly. He wanted it so badly, yet he also wanted to delay it. Put it off, maybe.
Was he ready for this?
Albie fixed the fire and with a knot in his belly, Percy took his books and set them on the table, first ledger open. “Ready when you are,” he said.
Albie looked at the books, then at Percy. His eyes were dark and dangerous, full of desire. “I’m ready,” he murmured. He strode to the table and closed the book. He collected the lantern and then took Percy’s hand and led him to their room.
Percy’s feet felt heavy, his legs trembled, and he wasn’t sure they’d carry him. His heart thumped so erratically, painfully almost, so nervous he felt a little ill.
Albie set the lantern on the dresser, closed the door, and turned the key with a quiet snick. The sound made Percy gasp and Albie smiled. He came over to him, gently running the back of his finger down Percy’s cheek.
“You look scared, little fox,” he murmured.
Why did being called that now feel so different to before?
Why did he not care? Why did he like it?
“I am,” Percy admitted.
“Do you want this?” Albie asked.
Percy nodded.
And Albie’s smile in the dark room was a lifeline. Safe harbour and protection, and Percy’s fear ebbed away.
“We’ve not done this before,” Albie said. “So I can only go by what feels right.”
Percy nodded again.
Albie cupped Percy’s face with one hand, bringing him in for a kiss. Open mouths and hot breaths, their bodies almost touching, and when Percy slid his arms around Albie’s lower back and pulled him closer, their bodies pressed tight, hardness against hardness, and Albie groaned into Percy’s mouth.
Percy almost withered to the floor, but Albie held him strong and walked him backwards to the bed. He slid Percy’s suspenders from his shoulders, then unbuttoned Percy’s shirt and let it fall away before he pulled his undershirt over his head. Percy wanted to help Albie with his own shirt, but his fingers trembled too much. Albie made short work of it, tossing the fabric to the floor. Then he studied Percy’s naked torso, skimming his hand over his chest, up to his neck, before he took his face in both hands and crashed their mouths together.
Open lips, tongues entwined, and Percy’s skin felt as if he was too close to a fire. Burning hot and yet not hot enough.
Albie pushed him back and laid him down on the bed, kissing him as he did, and finally—finally—pressing their bodies together.
The weight of him was divine, taking Albie’s tongue in his mouth, and the press of Albie’s arousal against his own made Percy ravenous for more. He raked his hands down his back, feeling his lean, muscular body.
All man.
