The Sinners Club (19 page)

Jack led Simon into Adam's office at the rear of the Sinners. He knelt to light the fire and turned to find Simon regarding the room with great interest.

“This is your office?”

“I don't have one. I have rooms upstairs. This belongs to an acquaintance of mine.”

“It doesn't look like a brothel.”

“Neither did your mother's.”

Simon sat down beside the fire. “She has always enjoyed the element of surprise. It puts her clients off-balance and gives her an advantage.”

“This place isn't actually a brothel at all. My friend manages his business interests from here.”

“So why is it called the Sinners Club?”

Needing something to do, Jack poured them both a brandy and gave one to his companion. “I have no idea. You'd have to ask him. I'm just staying here until he gets back.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Jack downed his brandy in one swig. “Of course. Being a liar, why would I ever speak a word that was true?”

Obviously he needed to work at not expecting any gratitude or understanding for apologizing. He sounded petulant and bitter.

“That's not what I meant.” Simon looked down at his drink. “My mother said this place is for people who serve the government in unconventional ways.”

“Your mother is very well informed for a brothel keeper in Whitechapel.”

“She has an interesting clientele.”

Jack retrieved the decanter of brandy and poured himself another full glass. “So what do you want?”

“You?”

Jack blinked at him. “What?”

Simon's smile was self-deprecating. “I've missed you.”

“Your supposed sister is hell-bent on destroying me, and you
want
me? Does she know this?”

“I should imagine she does.” He shrugged. “You're angrier than I've ever seen you before. I'd like to offer myself up to you for punishment.”

“You're obviously deranged.”

“When Mary calms down, she'll realize that George is indeed the biggest threat to her child. I'm certain she'll be calling on you to mend her fences, and maybe even apologize in her turn.” His smile was wry. “Although the apology, I can't guarantee.” He stood and approached Jack. “That's why I left her alone, you see. She needs time to consider her options.”

Simon took the decanter out of Jack's unresisting hands and placed it back on the sideboard. He dropped down onto his knees and stared down at the floor.

“Please. Use me.”

Even as he started to utter a denial, Jack's cock stirred and Simon leaned forward to lick the obvious swell. Jack's hand ached to cup Simon's head and press his face against his shaft.

“Not here.”

“Where, then?”

“Upstairs in my rooms. And I'll be damned if I'll hurt you.”

Simon rose. “Then just fuck me hard instead.”

Jack led the way up to his apartment and unlocked the door. The maids had been in, made his bed, and tidied up his scattered possessions. A fire burned in the grate, warming the space.

“It needs more furniture.” Jack shut the door and leaned back against it. “But as it is only temporary, it will do.”

Simon looked back at him. “Don't you have a house of your own?”

“How could I? I've lived on the Continent for most of my life. I didn't even know who my father's family were until I was an adult and I was the executor of his will.”

“And then you had hopes of inheriting Pinchbeck Hall.”

Jack shrugged. “It's just a house. I'm sure I'll find somewhere else to live.” He forced a smile. “Perhaps this isn't a very good idea after all, Simon. I'—”

His companion leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Please. Take me to bed and fuck me. Even if you don't let me come, I'll do anything you want.”

God, Jack wanted to, wanted to bury himself deep in the other man and fuck him until he forgot everything but his own selfish needs. Simon kissed him again, his whole body now pressed against Jack's, their cocks aligned and creating a throbbing heat between them.

“Jack, please,” Simon breathed against his lips. “Take me to bed.” He grabbed for Jack's hand, and drew him toward the bedroom door and the invitation of the turned-down covers. As Jack watched, he stripped off his clothes, revealing his muscled arms and then the thick column of his wet shaft. When he was naked, he went down on his knees again.

Jack rubbed a hand over his throbbing erection. “Simon—”

“I know you don't feel the same for me as you do for Mary. But that's all right. I don't want to fall in love with you, or for us to be together as a couple.” He licked his lips and hurried on. “I just want, I
need,
to be dominated sometimes. I crave it, and last time you ...” He shuddered. “You made me feel alive.”

“And Mary was furious.”

Simon's quick smile surprised him. “Only because she is so protective of me. She's never quite understood that I love the things that most whores hate.” He looked up at Jack. “And she wanted you herself, of course.”

“Not anymore, especially if I fuck you now when we are at odds.”

“She knew where I was going, and she knew what I wanted. She didn't stop me. She wouldn't. Please, Jack.” Simon wrapped a hand around his own cock. “Look how hard I am for you. Fuck me, and order me not to come. Make me wait.”

Jack closed his eyes and leaned back against the door frame. Before he could protest, Simon's hands were on his breeches easing the buttons free and releasing his cock. He sucked it deep into his mouth until Jack groaned, his hands fisted at his sides as he tried not to touch or encourage the other man. But his body had other ideas, his hips thrust forward fucking Simon's willing mouth without rational thought. It was rough and hard, and so good he couldn't stop himself from enjoying it.

He shoved a hand into Simon's auburn hair and yanked his head back, almost yelping as the other man's teeth scraped his shaft.

“On the bed. On your knees.”

Simon climbed onto the high bed and went down on hands and knees, his arse facing Jack, his face hidden. Jack slapped his buttock hard.

“Spread yourself wider. Show me where you want my cock.”

“Here, sir.”

Jack swirled his fingertip in his own pre-cum and rimmed the pucker of Simon's exposed arse hole before easing the tip of his finger inside.

“Yes, there, sir,
please.”

“When I'm ready.” He pushed his finger in to the first knuckle and moved it back and forth. “You're tight. I need oil.”

“No, sir, I can take you just as you are.”

“It would be too rough. I'd hurt you.” He shoved his finger deep making Simon's back arch. “I'd have to work my way so slowly inside you—you'd cry out and beg me to stop.”

“I won't say a word. I swear.”

“And what if you did?”

“You could gag me.”

Jack's cock thickened even more. “I wouldn't do that. How would I know if you cried out again? I would, however, stop fucking you and punish you.”

He withdrew his finger and Simon moaned. Grabbing Simon's ankles, Jack moved him nearer to the edge of the bed and stepped in, his cock held in his hand, the soaking wet crown sliding against his lover's taint and arse hole making his skin shine with pre-cum. He was wet enough to press inward, but it was still going to be rough. He inhaled slowly and pressed again, watched in fascination as he started to slide in through the tight ring, which widened and retreated just enough to allow his thick length passage.

Simon groaned. Jack reached around to pinch his nipple hard.

“Be quiet.”

He braced his feet and angled his hips, setting up a slow rhythm of penetration that was both excruciating to maintain and yet highly arousing as his shaft was gripped so hard. Beneath him, Simon shivered, but made no sound. Jack stared down at his cock.

“Are you full?”

“No.”

“Good, because I'm only halfway in.” Jack wrapped a hand around Simon's hip until he could touch the wet tip of the other man's cock. He sank his finger into the thick wetness until he found the slit at the crown. “Don't come or I'll pull out. When I'm buried deep inside you, I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll scream.”

He eased forward again and flicked his fingernail back and forth over Simon's slit until he bucked against Jack's hand. Each frantic twist of Simon's hips pushed Jack deeper until he was panting and straining against the need to come himself.

He bit Simon's ear. “When I send you back to Mary, my come will be inside you so deep that you'll smell of me for days. You'll be so sore that you won't be able to sit down without thinking about me behind you doing this.”

His only answer was another jerk of Simon's hips that meant Jack was finally balls deep in the man, and unable to go any further. He took a deep breath and let go, thrusting hard until he could no longer see anything but the pleasure like a red haze over his gaze. He pumped even harder, ignoring the other man's desperate gasps as he was pushed into the mattress by the force of Jack's thrusts.

Jack climaxed, the sensation so exquisite that he had to close his eyes and just let it consume him. When he slowly pulled out, Simon winced. Jack pushed him over onto his back. His cock was still hard.

“Make yourself come while I watch,” Jack said.

He settled on the side of the bed as Simon used both hands to jerk his shaft to a quick and obviously satisfying conclusion. His chest was heaving as if he'd run a mile and his eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction. Jack leaned forward and scooped up some come on his finger and rubbed it against Simon's lips.

“You don't get to wash. You go back to Mary like this, so she'll know what you did with me.” He sat back. “Maybe if you're lucky, she'll punish you too.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you sore?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Jack got off the bed and did up his breeches. “It's not a sensation I've ever enjoyed.”

“You've taken a man like that?”

“Once or twice.” Jack headed for the door. “I'm going to have a bath. I suggest you leave as soon as you are dressed.”

Simon sat up. “Did I not please you?”

“You pleased me.” Jack sighed. “And I deserve to be shot for letting you.”

“I told you it was what I wanted.”

“But I didn't have to agree, did I? That's always been my problem. I have a total inability to say no to the more salacious elements of sex.”

“I'm glad about that.”

“Well, I don't think I am anymore. Good night, Simon.”

Jack bowed and escaped to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Escaped was the right word. He wanted to get back in that bed, take Simon in his arms, and sleep the night away. But he couldn't do that because, like everyone else, Simon understood that Jack was only useful for a quick fuck. He didn't even require payment like a whore. He meant nothing.

Jack tore off his clothes and managed to get the mysteriously produced hot water for the bath working without either scalding himself or blowing up the steam tank. He added cold water from the bucket by the side of the bath and got into the tub. After scrubbing himself nearly raw, he laid the soap on the floor beside the bath. Leaning his head back against the edge, he listened for sounds of his companion leaving, but heard none. If Simon were still there when Jack finished his bath, what would he do? Probably fuck him again.

Jack groaned, the sound echoing around the empty space. He was quite pathetic. Why had he given in to Simon's demands?

 

Mary raised her head as Simon crept into her bedchamber and hurried to sit up. She wrinkled her nose as he sat on the bed beside her.

“You smell of him.”

“You knew I'd try and get him into bed regardless, didn't you? Otherwise you would never have let me go after him.”

“I didn't think he'd fall for such an obvious ploy.”

“He almost didn't. I had to literally push him up against the wall and take his cock out before he would consent to fuck me. I'm beginning to suspect that our Jack has standards after all.” He sighed. “If I hadn't enjoyed myself so much I would've been feeling terribly guilty. He isn't what you think, Mary. I do believe he is genuinely on our side.”

She snorted, ignoring the guilt Simon's confession stirred in her heart. “If he took advantage of you, he's still out for himself.”

“I'm not sure about that.” Simon hesitated. “You know how it is when you are servicing so many clients that you become inured to anything?”

“What does that have to do with Jack Lennox?”

“It's almost as though he gave in to me because he thought that was all I wanted from him—as if I was paying
him
to use
me.
It was a peculiar sensation.”

“And one that has no bearing on our current situation. Now, tell me what you discovered about the Sinners Club, and most especially the layout of Jack's rooms.”

J
ack woke up with the sensation that something wasn't right. Sun streamed through his bedroom window and he was definitely alone. What had he been dreaming about to make him so uneasy? Was it the advent of George Mainwaring, or his general concerns about the way his life was going?

He groaned and sat up. What a time for his newly acquired conscience to assert itself—just when he needed every ounce of his charm and trickery to find a path through the current maze. What was it about Mary and Simon that made him
think
so much? He got out of bed and proceeded to shave and get dressed. A twinge from his cock reminded him of Simon. How was the other man feeling this morning? Sore, no doubt, and also facing the wrath of his “sister.”

His hand stilled as his tied his cravat. He'd been dreaming about Mary Tudor. A Mary whose dreams of bearing a child had come to nothing, her pregnancy going on for so long that no one had dared to tell her, a queen, that her womb would never produce a living child. Was that what he secretly wanted for Mary Lennox? A nonexistent child?

Disgusted with himself, Jack strode downstairs and into the small breakfast room at the back of the house. An unknown woman sat eating at the table. Jack halted at the door and just remembered to bow.

“Good morning, ma'am.”

She looked up at him, a piece of toast in her hand. He judged her to be in her late thirties or early forties. She wasn't a beauty by any standards, but her expression was full of such charm and intelligence that Jack immediately felt at ease.

“Good morning. You must be Jack Lennox. It is very kind of you to stay here while Adam is away.”

He filled his plate from the silver dishes on the sideboard and took the seat opposite her. “I'm the one mostly benefiting from the arrangement. At the moment, I have no home.”

She sighed and put down her cup. “I know. This whole business over the Storr title must be most upsetting for you.”

“Hardly upsetting, ma'am. It's not as if I had years to assume the title would be mine. I only found out about it last year.”

“But you still wanted it, didn't you?” She nodded. “I can understand why. With a father like yours, you were never allowed to put down roots. Everyone needs a home, even one like mine, which is in constant danger of falling into the sea.”

“Excuse my curiosity, ma'am but who exactly are you?”

“I'm the Countess of Westbrook.”

Jack went to rise, but she waved him back into his seat. “Please don't stand on ceremony with me. I consider this my home and you part of my family.”

“You certainly seem to know a lot about me.” He studied her for a long moment. “Did you know my father, then?”

“I met him once, I think, when he needed money.”

“That sounds like my father. Did you give it to him?”

“I believe we did. He had you with him, you see, and I couldn't bear to watch you running around in rags and without proper schooling.”

“Did he say the money was for my benefit?” Jack laughed without humor. “I never saw any of it. I got my schooling wherever I could find it, and stole my clothes.”

“As I said, you of all men deserve some security in your life.” She sipped her tea. “As do the poor Picoults.”

“You really do know everything about me, don't you?”

She smiled. “I ran this place for several years before Adam took over. I am rather good at finding things out.”

“I'll wager you are. But you don't need to worry about the Picoults. I'm not going to stop Mary's child from inheriting the title.”

“That is very noble of you.” She hesitated. “And if you don't mind me saying, rather unexpected. You are known for your uncanny ability to get what you want.”

“And this time I've met my match. Mary Lennox is determined to succeed. I admire her courage enormously, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her.”

“Because you like her?”

Jack sighed. “As I'm sure you already know, she is very beautiful and I've shared her bed.”

“Which usually means nothing to a man like you, who can have any woman he wants.”

Jack looked down at his unfinished breakfast. “As I said, I admire her.”

“She's rather like you, isn't she?” The countess rested her chin on her hand and studied Jack.

“That's what Simon said, although I don't quite see it myself.” He ate a forkful of cold eggs and chewed determinedly. “She is more like my sister, Violet. More steady.”

“Perhaps that's why you like her so much.”

“I—” Jack glared at his companion. “Is there a point to this particular interrogation?”

“There is always a point. Perhaps you should reexamine what you think you know, and everything will become clear.”

“It
is
clear. Mary married the old earl, and she is having his child. If that child is a boy, he will inherit the title. Everyone else, including George Mainwaring and me, will have our expectations dashed. If it is a girl, I will inherit and make damn sure Mary, her child, and her brother will never want for anything.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless you have something you wish to add?”

She blinked at him. “Only that I'd heard George is in London.”

“So Mr. McEwan said.” He exhaled loudly. “What does George think he knows that no one else does?”

“That's a very interesting question.” She dabbed at her lips with her napkin and rose to her feet. “Don't get up. I just have to speak to Maddon about the entertainment arrangements for Friday night.”

“Are you suggesting I need to talk to Mary again?”

“Who do you think is more likely to tell you the truth? Mary or George?”

“Neither of them,” Jack grumbled. “How in God's name can I get Mary to trust me?”

A bell jangled in the distance, and the countess walked around the table to drop a kiss on the top of Jack's head.

“I'm sure you'll work it out very soon. I wish you much happiness.”

“In what?”

Her smile was mischievous. “Your future, of course.” She looked at the door. “Here is Maddon. I suspect you have a visitor.”

Maddon bowed. “You are correct, my lady.” He turned to Jack. “I've put the Dowager Countess of Storr in Mr. Adam's study, sir. She assured me that you would want to see her. If I'm mistaken, I can of course inform her that you are out.”

Jack stared at Lady Westbrook. “Are you a witch as well as an intelligence gatherer?”

She shrugged. “Or I pay my sources very well indeed.” She blew him a kiss. “Good luck, Jack. It was a pleasure to finally meet you again.”

She walked away with Maddon, leaving Jack standing by his chair. He took a moment to compose himself and assimilate the new information from the countess before heading to Adam's study. Mary stood by the window in a black bonnet with high feathers and a smart brocaded pelisse. She raised her lace veil and presented him with her classic profile. To Jack's eyes, she'd never looked lovelier, or less approachable.

“Good morning, my lady.”

She turned toward him. “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“For treating you like my enemy when you've always tried to help me.”

“That's not what you said last night.”

She grimaced. “I was angry with you for stealing the documents.”

“Would you like to sit down?”

“No, I—” She took three hasty steps away from him, and whirled around again. “Good Lord, I am making such a mull of this. I'm not used to explaining myself to anyone, or apologizing.”

“You sound remarkably like me.”

“So Simon says.” She hesitated. “Can you forgive me?”

“For wanting to protect your future?” Even as he said the words, he didn't believe she was being sincere. “If I was in your position, I'd ally myself with the least dangerous of my enemies and use him to fight off the greater threat.”

She went still. “Is that truly what you think of me?”

He shrugged. “It's what I'd do, and as everyone keeps telling me, we
are
alike. Doesn't it make everything easier? You don't need to pretend that you like me, or want my forgiveness. I'm perfectly willing to stop George hurting either one of us. Once we've disposed of him, you can go back to being suspicious of my motives as well.”

“That's rather mercenary.”

He forced a laugh. “It's the truth, though, isn't it?”

She glided closer, her gaze fixed on his. “You don't trust me, do you?”

“If you tell me exactly why George thinks he can take you to court and win, I might be more inclined to do so.”

“But I don't
know.”

“How convenient.”

“I really don't.” She sighed. “I've racked my brains to think what it might be.”

“Then I suppose we'll have to wait to hear what he tells Mr. McEwan.”

“Aren't you going to attempt to force the information out of George?”

“I'm not that much of a fool. Have you tried asking him?”

She shuddered. “I try not to get within ten feet of the man.”

“It's a shame you can't put aside your scruples and take him to bed like you did me. I'd wager he'd be more forthcoming then.” She blushed, which he found quite amusing. “Did you think I wouldn't realize? I'm not a fool, Mary.”

“I know that now.” She stepped close to him, and placed her hand against his chest. “In truth, I enjoyed bedding you more than I expected.”

“How pleasant for you.”

Her faint smile died. “Jack, what's wrong?”

He removed her hand. “As I said, you don't need to try and seduce me now. Simon managed it last night. Isn't that enough?”

“I wasn't—”

“Perhaps you weren't, but it is as natural as breathing to you, isn't it?”

“Because I'm a whore?”

“Because you've learned to get what you want using any gift you possess. I understand because I'm the same. How do you think I survived my father's neglect when I was young? I fucked anything. I
excelled
at it. With such talents, it seemed a shame to waste them as I grew to adulthood.”

Her eyes darkened and she reached for him again. “Jack—”

He caught her chin in his fingers in a hard grip. “Do you want me to show you? Is that the only way you will feel secure, if you have me on my back?”

She didn't pull away, and he kissed her, his tongue possessing her mouth until she kissed him back and leaned into him, the swell of her belly against his flat stomach and cock. He dragged his mouth away and she moaned his name.

“Do you want me, Mary? Right here, where anyone might see us? When you're likely to give birth at any second?”

“Do you despise me for that? That I still want you?”

“I've noticed most females can't bear a male near them when they're about to pup.”

“I'm not a dog!” She swallowed hard. “In fact I've been told that sometimes making love with a man can send a woman into labor.”

“Is that what your new doctor advised? Find a cooperative man to service your needs?” He gently set her away from him. “Don't assume I'm willing anymore. I'm as tired of being used as you probably are.”

She wiped a hand across her trembling lips. “Then I'll leave.”

“Perhaps that would be best.” He retreated behind his desk. “I will support you, my lady, but not by offering you my stud services.”

She raised her chin. “Then we are in agreement.”

She swept out. Jack covered his head with his hands and groaned. He was a fool. She gave him so much more than passing physical pleasure. He'd never known anybody like her before in his life. She challenged him on so many levels, made him lose his temper, made him laugh, made him want to simply be with her to see what she would come up with next.

And he'd sent her away. God, he hated becoming emotional about anything. It would be far more productive to think about other aspects of the situation. He slowly raised his head and rang the bell. While he waited, he wrote a hasty note and blew on the ink.

Maddon appeared at the door. “Yes, sir?”

“I need some information from the staff at Grillons Hotel.”

“Private information, sir?”

“Yes, I want the Picoult suite watched, and all movements reported back to me. I also want someone you trust implicitly to speak to the chambermaid who is attending Lady Storr.” He handed over the note with a small bag of gold. “And I need this information as quickly as possible.”

 

Mary cast off her bonnet, and tossed it onto the nearest chair.

“You were right.”

“About what?” Simon looked up from his newspaper.

“About Jack. He was
different.”

“Maybe it's because we're finally seeing
him
instead of Jack Smith.”

“I don't think it's that simple. He seems to have lost his joy.”

“His joy? What on earth does that mean?”

She sat opposite him. “Before, it felt like a dangerous but exciting game between us. Now it's turned deathly serious and he's no longer willing to be amused or charmed by us.”

“Didn't he accept your apology?”

“He did, but he made no secret of the fact that he still doesn't trust me, and that he isn't willing to be used anymore.”

“I told you so.”