Chapter Seventeen #2
“Mr. Morrow is easy to talk to, Jacob,” he said. “Which is exactly how he and I became friends. Or, well, friendly enough for him to tell me a bit about the story that he’s writing, anyway. He seems to have that sort of magnetism, perhaps. One that makes a person feel comfortable in his presence.”
James’s stomach fluttered madly, and he blushed. It was oddly thrilling to hear Cassian be so complimentary of him in public, not to mention alluding to them having become friends.
“Thank you, Cassian,” James said, letting the first name slip.
Worry shot through him for a brief moment as he waited for Cassian’s reaction, but Cassian only nodded, his smile broadening.
“You’re welcome, James,” he said.
James and Cassian stared at each other (lovingly, though hopefully not overly so, considering their location) for a few beats of James’s heart. Finally, James remembered himself.
“So,” he began, clasping his hands together, “may I pour you both another round?”
“I think I’m all right for now,” Mr. Calbot said. “I still have some of my Manhattan.”
“I’m fine, too, Mr. Morrow,” Cassian said. He threw back the last bit of his whiskey and then leaned forward, extending his hand with the snifter. “Here, take this, though, so that I won’t have to keep holding it.”
James’s eyebrows shot up. Now was his chance.
Quickly, he shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve the note.
Keeping it in his palm, he moved to take back the tumbler and somehow transfer the note to Cassian.
But he couldn’t manage it. Instead, the note fell to the floor, and then, horrifyingly, Mr. Calbot bent over to pick it up.
Fear shot through James’s heart, and he sucked in a breath.
Dear God, the man had better not read it.
Mr. Calbot’s eyes flitted between James and the note once, and then he handed it back.
“Here you go,” he said simply. But then the moment James took the note from him, Mr. Calbot’s face fell and his eyes flashed with something unreadable. He looked back and forth between James, Cassian, and the Goddamned note. “Or maybe this was meant for Mr. Livingston?”
“I . . . uhm . . .” James inhaled a shaky breath. He was a writer. Surely he could think of something. “I scribbled down some plot ideas. I wanted Mr. Livingston’s opinion on them.”
“Oh, right, we spoke about that earlier,” Cassian said, snatching the note from James’s hand.
“So, if you could read those . . . soon . . .” James checked the closest clock.
“Just, well, within the next half hour or so.” He cleared his throat.
“Because I have a short reprieve from work at one o’clock.
And I thought that I could maybe start my next chapter then.
Do you think that would, ah, be enough time for you to look things over? ”
“Plenty,” Cassian confirmed. He flicked his wrist, signaling James to leave. “You can resume your work, now, James. I’m sure I’ll manage to find you when you’re free.”
Heart thudding, James turned to leave. He hadn’t a clue how Cassian seemed to constantly remain so relaxed and composed in these situations, but fucking hell, he admired him for it.
***
April 14, 1912
1:10 p.m.
James’s entire body was tense as he waited for Cassian in the temperate room of the Turkish Bath Complex.
Hands hooked behind his back, James kept rocking forward onto the balls of his feet, praying that no one else would request his services before Cassian arrived.
Only two other men were in the complex right now, both of whom were relaxing in the steam room.
One of them had requested that James bring him an extra towel, but otherwise, he hadn’t needed to help either of them.
After one more minute of waiting, Cassian finally appeared in the entryway. Immediately, James’s chest swelled, and a smile split his face.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said, fighting to keep his excitement contained. “Are you familiar with the bath complex? I’d be more than happy to offer you a tour.”
“No need,” Cassian replied. “I’ve visited the complex a few times so far, though only to make use of the swimming bath.” He took a couple of steps forward, stopping just shy of James’s reach. “Actually, I’ve been feeling a little stiff. Do you happen to offer massage services?”
Eager excitement bubbled in James’s chest.
“Yes, we do. I’d love to provide one for you, if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested,” Cassian said with a smirk. “Extremely interested, in fact.”
Heat flooded James’s cheeks.
“Cassian!” he whisper-scolded.
Chuckling, Cassian shrugged. James blew out a breath.
“Well, sir, if that’s the case, then we can make use of one of the Shampooing Rooms. You can change in one of them after I fetch you a pestemal,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Cassian nodded cordially, a smile still pulling at his lips.
James left to procure him the robe and returned moments later.
Afterward, James showed Cassian into one of the Shampooing Rooms, where he would give the man a massage.
James waited outside patiently, his heart pitter-pattering fiercely, as Cassian changed.
Soon, James went inside. Once they were alone, Cassian immediately pulled him in for a kiss, and James melted into it. Cassian’s fingers twisted in James’s hair, and James pressed his palms flat to Cassian’s chest, relishing the feel of Cassian’s chest hair beneath the silky fabric of the pestemal.
After they parted, they kissed their foreheads together.
“Clever man,” Cassian purred. “Oh, I love how resourceful you are, my James.”
“Shhh . . .” James hushed him as his stomach swooped from the compliment. “I’d rather not lose my position with the White Star Line if someone overhears.”
“No one else is within earshot,” Cassian said. “Even the other stewards working the bath complex right now are over by the pool. Don’t you trust me to check on these kinds of things before showering you with praise?”
James smiled a little. “No, but I should, shouldn’t I? You seem more practiced than I am with navigating precarious social situations such as this one. Even if not for this particular reason.”
“Yes, I certainly am,” Cassian said with a hum. “I’ll keep you safe, my James. I promise.” He nuzzled James’s nose. “Now, in exchange for my caretaking, I’d like to receive the massage that I came here for.”
James huffed a half-laugh.
“I’ve never massaged anyone. I might not be any good at it.”
“Ah, well, as I said with regard to your writing and your swimming, what’s necessary for improvement is for you to practice your skills.
” In one fast motion, Cassian untied his robe and let it fall to the floor.
James’s breath hitched as Cassian’s beautiful body came into view.
“And I am more than willing to help you become a more proficient masseur.”
Swallowing thickly, James managed a nod.
“Not to worry, Mr. Morrow. I’m not so foolish as to think that the care I’m about to receive right now will be less-than-chaste.
” Smirking, Cassian retrieved a towel from the massage table and wrapped it around his waist. “I’ll only ever require those sorts of services from you when we have more privacy.
” He hoisted himself up on the table and lay on his front.
Looking over his shoulder, he crooked an eyebrow at James, his mouth still set in that infuriatingly bewitching smile.
“I’ll request those later, I’m sure, but for now, the massage. ”
Oh, God, Cassian’s sense of entitlement was second to none.
How James loved it.
Letting out another light laugh, James adjusted the crotch area of his trousers, which had become a smidge too snug over the course of Cassian’s little speech, and then started over to the table.
He rubbed his hands together to warm them and then snatched a bottle of massage oil off of the nearest shelf.
When James removed the cap, the scent of sweet almond filled the room.
Cassian hummed as though he was making note of it, too. James spread a bit of it on his hands.
“I hope this won’t be middling,” he said, only partially kidding as he pressed his fingers into Cassian’s skin and then flattened his palms.
Cassian hummed a little more.
“Never middling,” he said through a soft moan. “Exceptional. Always.”
James smiled to himself.
Over the next few minutes, James continued to work his hands up and down Cassian’s torso, massaging his shoulders and neck and back.
Cassian, clearly a little inebriated, either from the whiskey he had enjoyed in the lounge or even only from lust, seemed eager to tease him, letting out the most sinful-sounding moans.
James wished he could remove his clothes right then and there to take care of himself.
Soon, Cassian changed positions, lifting his lower back and hips, and James had to wonder if Cassian might have excited himself with his ridiculous moans as well.
“You should rein it in a little, maybe,” James suggested in a playful tone.
Cassian laughed. “Yes, probably, though maybe I’ll just take care of myself after you leave the room.”
James pinched him, and Cassian squirmed.
“Don’t make this harder for me, please,” he begged.
“But I like you hard,” Cassian countered.
James pinched him once more, and Cassian reached back to swat at him.
“Let’s try to make it through the rest of my impromptu shift in the bath house,” James said. “I’d rather not have to end early because I’ve ruined my trousers.”
Cassian looked up at him over his shoulder.
“I suggest you refrain from pinching me, then.”
“I only pinched you because you were being overly suggestive.”
“Fine, fine,” Cassian said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll rein it in a little. I’m still pleasuring myself in here later, though.”