Cassian pulled off. He looked at James expectantly. It took James a couple of seconds to realize what the man was waiting for. Then he laughed lightly.
“Thank you, Cassian,” James said.
Cassian smiled wolfishly.
“You’re very welcome.” Cassian climbed up and collapsed next to him. He took one of James’s hands and brought it to his waiting cock. “Now, it’s my turn.”
Chapter Seventeen
James
April 14, 1912
12:22 p.m.
James was still finalizing his plan on how to spend some more time together with Cassian later that afternoon when Cassian and Mr. Calbot walked into the lounge, with Mr. Quinn following close behind. James’s stomach somersaulted the moment that he and Cassian locked eyes, and he was helpless to fight the smile that stretched across his face, his cheeks warming as he started over to them. Cassian, meanwhile, remained fairly stoic, only one corner of his mouth curling upward ever so slightly, even though James was beaming at him like a fool. But even that little hint of a smile—oh, hell, it made James feel so Goddamned loved.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” James said as Cassian and Mr. Calbot sat down on one of the sofas. Mr. Quinn stayed standing with his hands hooked behind his back. “Are you interested in some wine or a cocktail?”
“Whiskey for me,” Cassian replied. “Neat, of course.”
Of course.
James wished he could repeat those words out loud in a slightly mocking tone. Still, James must have said it with his facialexpression because Cassian’s smile broadened, and he quirked an eyebrow as he married his fingertips together.
“Is there a problem?” the man asked.
“None at all, sir,” James replied. “I was merely thinking to myself that whilesomemight say that liquors are best enjoyed straight, without the addition of ice or bitters or syrups, others might have the opposite opinion.”
“Mmm, and those people would be wrong,” Cassian said.
“Oh, I’m not sure aboutthat,” Mr. Calbot interjected. “I, myself, find liquor best served chilled.” He looked up at James and smiled. “I’ll have a Manhattan, please. Leave the ice in it.”
“Excellentchoice,” James said with a nod.
Before James turned to leave, he caught Cassian’s reaction. Narrowing his eyes, Cassian seemed to be metaphorically, if not literally, biting his tongue, though the corners of his mouth were slightly pinched, too, perhaps to suppress a smile from hearing James’s remark.
Oh, how James loved being playful with Cassian.
While he was pouring the whiskey in the lounge pantry area, another steward came up behind him.
“Are you Mr. Morrow?” the man asked.
Pausing, James looked over his shoulder. “Yes, that’s me.”
“One of the fellows who works in the bath complex said that he thought about your offer to switch later this afternoon. He asked me to tell you that he’d be happy to work here in the lounge while you work in the bath house for a couple of hours.” Smiling a bemused-looking smile, the man tilted his head in confusion. “Unusual request.”
“Yes, well, I’m... easily bored,” James lied, heat creeping up the back of his neck. “And the man with whom I’ll be switching... well, I-I switched with him once before so that he could sleep in. I liked working the bathing and swimming areas here on board, andhe seemed to like the saloon well enough, too, so I’m confident that he’ll fit right in working here in the lounge. It’s even simpler than working mealtimes, isn’t it? Mostly, we only fetch the passengers their beverages of choice. Speaking of which”—James forced a smile and picked up the glasses—“I should bring these over now.”
James circled past the other steward and headed back toward the area where Cassian and Mr. Calbot were waiting, engaged in what looked like a lively conversation. After delivering both the Manhattan and the whiskey (which involved James intentionally brushing his fingers against Cassian’s when handing Cassian his snifter), James left the men to enjoy their beverages in peace while he waited on the other passengers and considered how to best relay the message to Cassian about the Turkish Bath Complex. He needed to encourage Cassian to visit for a while and perhaps to ask for a massage or otherwise have a swim. Unfortunately, the bath complex cost extra in the afternoon, and consequently, Cassian would have to purchase a ticket for it. But hopefully the man would realize that there were few other options available for the two of them to spend time together outside of the saloon, the lounge, or the Smoking Room. In truth, James thought his idea was rather creative. He hoped that Cassian would think so too.
While pouring some wine for another passenger, James continued to consider how he could communicate with Cassian when they were in the lounge like this. Writing him a note was likely the best choice. James retrieved his mostly unused order pad from the inner pocket of his jacket, along with a pen. Hastily, he scrawled Cassian a note.
Turkish Bath Complex. One o’clock. Shampooing Room?
James swallowed thickly. Dear God, he hoped that no oneelsein the bath complex would request a massage from him. He’d rathernot rub his hands on any of these other men. And, most likely, Cassian would rather that he not, either.
After removing the paper from the order pad and folding it into a little square, James shoved it into the front pocket of his trousers, returned the order pad and pen to their original place, and snatched the wine that he needed to serve from the cart. Later, after he’d finished serving a few more passengers, he circled back to Cassian and Mr. Calbot, but the moment that Cassian’s voice reached his ears, he stopped in his tracks.
