As had happened since his late-night visit to her bedroom, his cock thumped and hardened as he remembered his education at her hands. He had replayed every second, every breath since that night every chance he had, most often while stroking his cock to a climax that was a mere shadow of the original. The memory of her touching herself just out of reach, while he remained tethered, was what took him over the edge, rather than her watching him. Although…she’dtastedhim.
He had never seen a woman’s most private folds up close. Nor had he ever touched himself in front of anyone, and—unh.He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable and avoid anyone seeing the noticeable bulge in his trousers—certainly never coated a woman’s skin with his essence. And her private moisture on her finger was the most delicious honey he’d ever sipped. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head at the memory, there in the crowded club.
South arrived, stopping to greet a group of earls in the middle of the room. “Will, d’you know your father is here?”
“He usually is.” He shrugged. He didn’t want to think about the older Stanton. This was supposed to be his time, after slogging through his father’s mess all day.
“He is with that earl you mentioned.”
“The one who hasn’t responded to my inquiries about the last investment Father made with him?” He sighed. He could not even enjoy an evening with a friend any longer. He envied South’s freedom. All the benefits of being heir to an earldom, none of the responsibilities yet.
“Give me a few minutes to go talk to them, will you?”
South nodded, already ordering a second drink. He wandered over to the group he’d greeted after pointing William to a separate alcove.
“Father.”
“William. You remember—” His father’s words were slurred.
“I do. My lord. I am glad to run into you here”—not really—“as I have not been able to reach you at your residence here in Town. I have not seen a quarterly review of the shipment we invested in.
“We?” The earl chuckled, flicking a speculative glance at his father. “I’m afraid my solicitor handles all that.”
“Yes, well, he has not responded, eith—”
“Will, my boy. Gentlemen do not discuss money. ’Tis beneath us.” He waved his drink and gestured for a new glass. “Come now, have a drink with us and we’ll talk horses and politics like sane men.”
William gritted his teeth. His father was quick enough to talk money when friends like this swindler were asking him to invest, no matter what the venue. But all he said was, “Might I call on you tomorrow, then?”
“Of course. Just send a note around, I’m not at all sure when I’ll make it home from my mistress’s.”
The older men chortled, and William gave up, having no authority to force the issue. His hands fisted, he made his way back to their corner seats and waited for South to rejoin him.
After ordering yet another Scotch, South got a glimmer in his eye and asked, “How goes the wooing, my puritanical friend?”
William groaned.
“Any tupping? I haven’t caught any rumors of compromising situations. I’m rather disappointed in you.” South laughed at his own joke.
“No tupping.”
“But wooing?” his friend persisted.
“Mmm. Working on my approach,” he demurred. If it had simply been sex, he might have boasted a bit as they had in the past. But her brain, her interest in learning were almost as arousing as her intimate teachings. To find her taking notes at a scientific presentation and pondering investing, after seeing Homer on her bed, were layers he never expected nor searched for in a woman. But until he could work out how to balance that with his responsibilities at home and at Oxford, he did not have words to describe it to anyone.
“And ’tis one of the debs,” South pondered, tapping his lips with a finger.
William snorted. “No.”
“But you said Ton?”
“Guessing will give you something to do other than those ridiculous bets you get into too often.”
South just laughed.
As his friend described some of the wilder bets on the books at his latest favorite gaming hell, William considered the juxtaposition. The silly débutantes from the balls he’d attended were shadows eclipsed by the sun of Mistress P. Not a one cared for anything beyond fripperies and snaring the ‘right’ husband. He wasn’t sure all their brains combined could keep up with Mistress P’s.
Or his mother’s for that matter. Imagining his mother and Mistress P conversing, he curved his lips in a wistful smile.’Twould likely be more informational than a lecture.
