Scavengers: Collection - Books 1-4 (Zombie Gentlemen) (m/m zombie steampunk erotic romance) (19 page)

James sighed and turned to him for another kiss. “I have to go to these events. Just... maybe standing in the crowd wasn’t the best idea. Maybe a window like this...” he started, but trailed off, instantly hit by the memory of Lady Juanita Shelley who was doing just that, on a nearby balcony. He looked to the opposite building and the sight of her still standing in the same spot froze him in Ira’s arms.

With
binoculars in her gloved hand she was gazing directly at them. And when their eyes met he could see a slight smile appear on her beautiful face. A smile that was nothing but malicious.

 

His heart sank.

 

Scavengers: August - End

 

Scavengers: September

by K.A. Merikan

 

 

18th September, 1893

 

It was noon on James’ pocket watch when he approached his house. He couldn’t wait to leave work so he decided to take a brisk walk after a meeting with Lord Barnett, instead of waiting for a steam carriage. It seemed that even the weather was on his side, with the air much clearer than usual at this time of day. Nevertheless, he would still not risk taking off his gas mask in the street. It was an elegant accessory, custom made to compliment his gray, woolen cape. September had quickly turned quite cold this year, despite the sunshine.

But it wasn't weather that was on James’ mind when he reached the door to the newly built Terrace Mansions. With Katherine spending her afternoon at the Lady's Book Club, and Henry being taken care of by the nanny, James could indulge in what he considered the most delightful time of his day: the time he could spend with Ira.

The luxurious estate they lived in was very modern, located downtown, in a posh, high-level neighborhood, with private gardens growing on flat rooftops. Terrace Mansions were as controversial as they were comfortable and state-of-the-art. Purists claimed the copper plaque-covered elevations shone like a bald man’s head and it was something James couldn’t deny, but his wife loved them and for him, it was all that mattered.

He nodded at the doorman and went up the white stairs leading to the entrance of his two-level apartment in quick, energetic strides. It took only about half a minute for his butler to open the door for him.

“Good afternoon, my Lord,” said Holland, a middle-aged man with a permanently wrinkled forehead. His conservative uniform and perfect posture could put any gentleman to shame. “I hope your day has been pleasant.” He took the cape off James’ shoulders.

“Very much so, Holland!” James was a bit overexcited, but he couldn’t care less at this point. “But also tiresome, I'm going to retire to my room, so please let the other servants know not to disturb me.”

“Certainly, my Lord.” Holland gave him a curt nod. “Enjoy your sleep.” He turned to a massive, beautifully carved closet. Once the door was open, it revealed a small, dark room filled with outer garments. A special mechanism let him move them along a rail to easily reach the desired outfit.

James looked up the grand staircase, complete with a large crystal chandelier and an elaborate handrail, richly decorated with floral trimmings made of polished copper. In his mind though, he was already deep in the confines of the oriental chamber, with more pillows than he could count and the musky scent that clung to his hair all day. He went straight to his own bedroom. In comparison to Ira’s, it was quite stern looking, filled with dark, wooden furniture and paintings of horses. But he knew that as soon as he crossed a hidden door separating their rooms, he would be engulfed by bright colors. And Ira’s welcoming arms. With the newly isolated walls and heavy curtains, they could be sure their little love nest was protected from prying eyes and ears. James went straight to the hidden door and opened it without knocking; he knew he was expected at this hour.

The moment he went in, he gave Ira a wide smile. He couldn’t believe that it was already over a month since he had  joined James' household. And it was so much more peaceful than he thought it would be! Within days, Katherine grew to like Ira and Henry showed no resentment towards a new person in the house, in fact, the boy seemed to become fond of the new employee. Because that was what Ira was known as. James’ new ‘employee’, or ‘a teacher of survival tactics’.

“How’s my boy?” Ira returned the smile. He put down a book he was reading and got up from the broad windowsill, immediately obscuring the window with an ochre curtain. A golden glow tinted the whole room, adding to the intimate atmosphere created by thick, decorative fabrics Ira draped over the walls. In the darkest part of the room, from the side of the corridor stood a large closet, and next to it, a massive bed with four bulky posters, carved into a ravel of bodies, Eastern deities and demons. Several Indian lamps made of brass, as well as a colorful carpet and a few dozen cushions completed the look. James wouldn't have designed it himself, but the warmth and oddness of this interior made him feel strangely at home, since he associated it with Ira.

“Are you going to stop calling me that when I’m thirty?” James laughed, walking towards his lover, who suddenly grabbed one of James' wrists and spun him around. Ira leaned closer, his warm breath making the tiny hair on the back of James’ neck stand up in an instant.

“Why? Don’t like it?” He slowly traced the shell of his sensitive ear with his tongue.

James felt the touch go straight down to his crotch, as if it moved the right cogs in his body. “Feels silly.” He pushed back for a hug. He was over the moon about Ira, the smoky smell in his room, his tattooed arms and deep voice. Now that they lived together and shared a bed each night, James' life finally felt complete. As if the man was the missing piece of a puzzle.

Ira snorted, holding him close against his own chest and smelling James’ long hair loud enough for him to hear. “Nah, you’re my boy. Don’t make me stop.” He traced the other man’s arms with his meaty palms.

“I will have to comply then.” James couldn’t stop smiling. “How was your day? Mine included lunch with Barnett. The man is so grim!”

“Fuckin’ zombie lover!” Ira slowly turned James around and looked him straight in the eyes. “Now that’s a perversion.”

“Apparently, he’s taking it back now and turned against the Johners. He says things like: ‘They have gone too far this time, Lord Hurst!’” James imitated Barnett’s low voice, his arms wrapped around Ira’s neck.

“He’s lyin',” said Ira with a soft sigh, looking at his lover for several seconds before tipping his head to kiss him. Strong, warm hands slid down to James’ hips, drawing him closer.

James took in a deep nasal breath, closing his eyes and gladly falling into the embrace. He didn’t even want to discuss politics anymore. Time with Ira was always precious. With Katherine in the house, it was difficult to let go completely for fear she would want something from James, so the moments when she was out were savored with great appreciation.

Large hands unbuckled his belt and then slid up to loosen his conservative cravat. “Couldn’t wait,” Ira confessed, before starting to slowly suck on James’ bottom lip.

“Oh I can see that clearly now!” James sighed, looking into the brown rings of Ira’s eyes. From the moment he first saw him, he simply felt a connection with this man that he could not pinpoint. Ira was handsome in a rough sort of way, just like James liked it best, but there was also an honest and caring side to him that really drew James in.

“What do ya wanna do, boy? We ‘ave several hours,” Ira breathed in a hoarse voice, holding him tight, as if he never wanted to let go. James loved how strong and hot his body felt.

“We can always look for inspiration...” James sounded innocent, but they both knew what he meant. It involved looking through a lot of erotic prints.

Ira wiggled his eyebrows, stroking the side of his face with rough fingers. “I 'oped you’d say that.” He drew back and ran a lustful gaze along James’ slim body.

“Reading some filth?” James opened his vest with a laugh.

“It’s not filth!” Ira grinned back at him, taking off his plain undershirt and quickly unbuttoning his trousers as well. He seemed eager to free his large cock. “Bought it at a store in the main street!”

“Oh, must be very credible then!” James said with a straight face, taking off the vest and continuing with his silk shirt. Sometimes, he wished it would be acceptable in his circles to wear something less formal and restricting.

Ira gave a loud breath, stepping back with a satisfied expression. “Don’t just strip, boy. Do it for me.” He leaned against one of the bed posters. His brawny body looked like a statue in the yellowish light. James wanted to kiss every inch of his skin.

“Isn’t someone getting demanding today,” he said in a cocky tone, looking Ira straight in the eyes. His moves slowed down as he undressed, all the way to his last undershirt, with only his opened breeches remaining.

Ira’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the open fly. “Not finished yet, boy.” He licked his lips and moved his hand lower. James’ eyes followed it all the way down to Ira's partially erect penis.

“No?” he asked with a sly smile. “I believe I am...” He loved teasing Ira and forcing him into action. James took in the sight of the muscular body in front of him. His mouth watered when Ira flexed his pectoral muscles, making the patterns on his skin shift. He loved to trace the tattooed lines with his fingers in the lazy afterglow of their passion. It was like walking through a labyrinth and he swore it helped him to think, just like the real thing.

“Oh, go on boy!” Ira urged him, his eyes already darkened with lust. “Show me that sweet arse of yours!”

James hesitated for a moment, but found it hard to resist a prompt like that. Moments later, his breeches laid on the floor, leaving James completely bare. “Liking what you see?” he asked, even though the answer was obvious. It gave him immense pleasure to know just how much his lover craved him. Locking his eyes with Ira’s, he lifted his arms and turned around to show off his body. Ira was too controlled to simply ravish him, but James was still tempted to try him. He heard the soft sound of footsteps on the Persian carpet and the anticipation gave him goose bumps. He let out a small moan as thick, warm fingers slowly ran down his spine.

“My perfect boy,” seemed to be the only thing Ira could choke out at this point.

James smiled and untied the ribbon from his hair, glancing over his shoulder. “Would you rather move to the bed?”

“Yeah...” Ira’s hands slid around him, pressing their bare bodies together. “And you go get them drawings.”

James gave him a quick peck on the cheek and went over to the bed, kneeling beside it. He fumbled a bit to get the suitcase from underneath the heavy, wooden frame and finally pulled it out, looking up at Ira with a huge grin.

“What?” The man tousled his hair.

“Are you ready?!” It gave him immense pleasure to know just how much his lover craved him. Ira joined him, putting an arm around James' shoulders. It was warmer than any scarf and James snuggled into his lover’s body.

“I sure am, boy. Show me what you got,” Ira whispered against his temple.

“Let’s look through them!” James licked his lips and hastily opened the suitcase, where he kept his uncle's erotic prints. Having someone to share them with turned out to be so much more exciting than just enjoying them on his own.

“Your case’s full of surprises,” murmured Ira straight into his ear and then lapped at it in a cat-like manner, teasing him.

James blinked, noticing that the order of the prints was wrong and shook his head with a laugh. “Someone has been looking through them today...” he trailed off, nuzzling Ira’s neck.

“Ah, ya got me.” The other man held him closer. “But I was thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he was quick to add, lifting his eyebrows.

“It is hard to believe, when you have all those handsome gentlemen to accompany you, but I appreciate the effort.” James shook his head, flicking through the pictures.

“Come on!” Ira’s hands grabbed at his waist, kneading the flesh. “They don’t stand a chance, Lord Looker!”

James just shook his head with a wide smile, but then went silent, gazing at a print that he had never seen before. And oh did he know them all by heart! It depicted a beautiful young man with Asian features hanging face down from the ceiling of an empty room. All of his limbs were arranged in place with elaborate ties Ira had used on James many times, creating elaborate patterns all over his skin. Only the boy in the picture wasn't kneeling on the bed. He was suspended over the floor, his face relaxed in a look of pure bliss.

James swallowed, tensing up a bit, even though his body heated up at the image. “This one is yours I believe...” He didn't yet know what to make of it. A delicate touch to his neck was like a soothing balm to his insecurities.

“Yeah, it is.” Ira's whisper tickled the side of his neck. “You frightened?”

“Maybe a little... It’s an interesting image,” pondered James, turning the print upside down, still unsure what to think of it. His cheeks were heating up and it was hard to keep his breath steady at the image that now occupied his mind. “But it looks somewhat unrealistic.”

“Why d’you think that?” Ira gently pulled his head to the side and traced the now exposed neck with slow, gentle kisses.

“I’m heavy, you know... the rope would really dig in... I think.” In the end, James succumbed to the caresses.

“Would ya like to see for y’self?” asked the other man, slowly massaging James’ chest with a warm hand.

“Have you done it before?” It was slowly sinking in that Ira must know quite a lot about this. He was always very skillful with his ropes... and he had a variety of them in different colors.

The other man nodded. “Yeah, I do. And I think y’might find it nice too.”

“You really think ‘nice’ is the word to describe it?” James gave him a soft peck on the cheek. Their gazes locked and the other man laughed, brushing his nose against his lover’s.

“Ya right. It’s not.” He drew closer and teased James’ lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Will it be... pulse-raising?” James' breath was steadily getting faster in anticipation.

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