Chapter Nineteen
Arthur
On the following Friday, Arthur was pacing back and forth in the reception room of his home, waiting for Jesse to come over for the first time since he had stupidly sent him home that one horrible winter night.
Aside from the party, of course, though Arthur had trouble counting that since so many people had been around and he hadn’t formally introduced Jesse as his . . . special companion to Gertrude then.
Perspiration collected on Arthur’s brow as he continued to pace. After one more trip around the reception room, he paused and fumbled for his handkerchief so that he could wipe the sweat from his brow. He began to pat his forehead as footsteps came up behind him.
“Mr. Hughes?” Gertrude said. “Dinner will be ready in one hour.”
Arthur swallowed thickly. He wondered whether he should tell her the truth now or if it might be better to wait a little while.
Or even whether he should ever tell her the truth at all.
Perhaps it would be best if Gertrude only thought of Jesse as one of Arthur’s friends.
Even though such a thing would mean that Jesse could never stay the night, the two of them could still enjoy meals together in Arthur’s home every once in a while and could even share some post-dinner brandy in private.
But, oh, Arthur hated the secrecy. Gertrude was like family to him.
And it felt so wrong to be keeping this from her.
Arthur turned to meet Gertrude’s eyes. Even though the truth was sitting right there on the tip of his tongue, all Arthur could manage was a tight smile and a curt nod. Gertrude smiled warmly in return before starting back toward the kitchen. Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Damn.
Moments later, Arthur startled from the sudden sound of knocking, and his heart leapt.
He strode toward the door, his excitement overtaking his lingering worries more with each step, and even though he knew that he ought to wait for Patrick to come answer it, he found he couldn’t wait even one more moment before seeing the love of his life.
Arthur opened the door with a flourish, and a smile split his face the moment that he and Jesse locked eyes.
“Good evening, Arthur,” Jesse said.
Arthur’s chest swelled with happiness. “What took you so long?”
“What took me so long?” Jesse repeated through a chuckle. “I’m ten minutes early.”
“Are you really?” Arthur checked his pocket watch and laughed. “Yes, well, obviously you should have been fifteen minutes early instead. Or even twenty. I’ve been busy wearing a hole in the floor for at least that long.”
“Silly man. I’d have come by earlier if you had told me to. I finished work at five.”
“Next time, then.” Arthur moved to the side and motioned for Jesse to come into the house. “Gertrude is almost finished cooking. If you’d like, we could wait in my study for a while. Or in the library, though I think Charlotte and Emma may be reading in there right now.”
“I think I’d prefer the, uhm, the study. If we’d be alone there.”
Arthur nodded. “Yes, I would prefer that, too. And for that very reason.”
Arthur led Jesse into the study. As soon as they were inside, Arthur shut the door and locked it. And then he pulled Jesse in for a kiss.
Jesse’s flat cap fell to the floor when Arthur threaded his fingers through his hair. Jesse hummed and chuckled in response, both of them continuing to kiss through it. After some time, Arthur pulled back and tipped their foreheads together.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Jesse replied, slightly breathless. “Does everyone on your staff know—”
“Not yet. I’m still . . . working on that. Patrick knows. But not Gertrude. I know I said I’d tell her, but—”
“Arthur,” Jesse said, his voice soft and sweet, “I never expected that from you. Not all those months ago. And not now, either. I’m happy to be here as your friend. Just as your friend. And I can take the streetcar back home later tonight. It won’t be a problem.”
Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.
“Come sit with me,” Arthur said, taking Jesse’s hand. “We have a little while before we have to eat.”
Arthur pulled Jesse over to the sofa. He sat. Jesse immediately moved to straddle him.
“Is the door locked?” Jesse asked, settling onto Arthur’s lap. “Please tell me that it is.”
“It is.”
Jesse pulled Arthur in for a kiss.
For the next forty-five minutes, the two continued to kiss and cuddle on the sofa.
Luckily, no one bothered them, though neither of them felt comfortable enough to seek the pleasure they both so obviously craved.
When Arthur realized that it was almost time to eat, he and Jesse took a few minutes to make themselves presentable, fixing their hair and smoothing out their clothes.
They had both only just managed to finish when Patrick knocked and told them that dinner was ready.
Dinner itself was fairly uneventful. Other than Emma’s brief bout of complaining that she hadn’t yet been able to visit the fair.
But Arthur steered the conversation away from that rather quickly.
Throughout the rest of the meal, Charlotte threw Arthur a few teasing smirks whenever he and Jesse interacted, but otherwise, neither Charlotte nor Emma ever broached the topic of the nature of Arthur and Jesse’s relationship.
Which really was a blessing, especially since Gertrude was only in the adjacent room.
Weeks back, Jesse had told Arthur that Emma very clearly knew about the two of them.
Arthur, the coward that he somehow suddenly was when it came to this particular matter, hadn’t yet confirmed it for himself, but had instead asked Charlotte to remind Emma of the importance of discretion when it came to such matters.
Apparently, Emma had been offended that Charlotte had even asked that of her.
“I’m not na?ve!” Emma had supposedly spat with an unladylike scoff.
Arthur still felt a little guilty that he had essentially forced Charlotte into having that conversation on his behalf.
He was the one who ought to have received those scoffs and eyerolls.
Thank God Charlotte hadn’t been upset with him over his cowardice.
Once the meal was over, Arthur and Jesse retired to the study. Again. But this time, Arthur brought a mostly full bottle of brandy, too.
Arthur yanked out the barely secured cork as he and Jesse took a seat on the sofa. After tossing it onto the end table, he took a sip straight from the bottle. Jesse laughed.
“Don’t you want to find wineglasses or snifters or something?” he asked.
Arthur flicked his wrist dismissively. “It’s more fun this way.”
“You can be so uncivil sometimes.”
“You love it,” Arthur teased. He took a second swig of brandy before placing the bottle by his feet. He then rested a hand on Jesse’s thigh and began inching it higher. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Jesse let out a low hum as Arthur’s hand neared his crotch. Arthur smiled impishly.
“You’re insufferable,” Jesse said.
“And you, Jesse O’Connor, are irresistible.”
Arthur cupped Jesse’s crotch. He felt Jesse’s cock starting to stiffen. Jesse let out a sigh mixed with a whine and spread his legs a little more, providing Arthur with easier access.
“You haven’t even had much of the brandy yet,” Jesse said.
Arthur began to stroke Jesse through his pants.
“You are plenty intoxicating to me,” Arthur crooned into Jesse’s ear.
“You and your false flattery,” Jesse said, his cheeks becoming pink. “I know you had wine earlier. But now I know, too, that you must have had more than the one glass that everyone else was served.”
“Guilty. I had two.” Arthur nuzzled Jesse’s cheek. He continued to move his hand over Jesse’s length. “But my flattery is never false.”
He nibbled on Jesse’s ear.
“Fuck, Arthur,” Jesse breathed, “I wish I could stay.”
“Then stay,” Arthur whispered. “Spend the night with me, Mr. O’Connor.”
Abruptly, Jesse sat up. His eyes flew wide with hope, but his forehead creased with concern. Arthur took his hand away from Jesse’s crotch and reached up to smooth Jesse’s brow with his thumb, as though he could somehow erase those wrinkled worry lines with his touch.
“Are you sure?” Jesse asked.
Arthur’s stomach fluttered, icy nervousness momentarily flooding his veins, but neither sensation was strong enough to snuff out the fire of want in his belly and make him reconsider.
Arthur lowered his hand to cup Jesse’s chin.
“I’m sure.” He planted a brief kiss on Jesse’s soft lips. “Will you come with me to my bedroom?”
Jesse searched Arthur’s eyes for a few seconds, possibly for trepidation. But Arthur knew that Jesse wouldn’t find any. All Arthur felt in that moment (partially thanks to the wine, perhaps) was want.
Jesse wet his lips and nodded. “I will.”
Together, they stood and started toward the door, leaving the opened bottle of brandy on the floor by the sofa, and as they stepped out into the hall, Arthur took Jesse’s hand in his.
Once they reached the bedroom, they walked over to the bed and removed their clothes.
Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of Jesse the entire time, his heart pitter-pattering with excitement as each layer of Jesse’s clothing fell to the floor, his cock steadily stiffening as he worked to remove his own clothes.
Naked, both men climbed into bed and immediately began to kiss. After only seconds of enjoying Jesse’s beautiful lips, Arthur found himself seeking friction, rubbing his cock against Jesse’s thigh. Jesse let out a long, low moan, bucking his hips and seeking friction himself, too.
“Arthur?” Jesse whispered. Arthur pulled back to look in his eyes. “I want you.”
Arthur smiled at him. “You have me.”
Jesse’s face reddened. “I meant . . . something else.”
Smiling sweetly, Jesse coaxed Arthur on top of him. Once Arthur was settled—one leg on either side of Jesse’s hips—he realized what Jesse meant. His eyes widened.
“Oh!”
Jesse laughed, his cheeks becoming even pinker.