Page 94 of Checking Out the Librarian

Tying a cravat was not in his skill set, and these two even length pieces of fabric permanently stitched to the neckline were probably as authentic as romance literature’s nine hundred and counting dukes, but he’d do his best. That turned out to be wrapping one end twice around the other, pulling that end through the loop he’d created, and then tucking it all into the neck of the blouse so it poufed at the top.

After he fluffed his creation into a reasonable shape, he attached the pin, its slim shaft seemingly close to snapping when he pushed it through the heavy cotton, but it pierced the fabric and he didn’t drop the tiny cork backing.

As if the birthday presents were colluding with Connor to tell him to shed his worries and enjoy, he’d managed the pin without breaking it or losing it.

The shower had stopped, and he was taking too long.

Connor needed him.

He left one lamp on dim and situated himself on the bed, arms spread along the pillows, the front of the blouse skimming above his manhood. Tying a fake cravat had deflated that appendage, but if he was wearing fabric tied at his neck, he was damn well going for the immersive role play and calling it his manhood.

But not, under any circumstances, out loud.

“You may attend me, Connor.”

The door opened immediately. Connor was pink and fresh, wearing only a towel, and he brought bathroom steam into the room on a wave of excitement. “What do—oh. Oh.”

Connor stopped in front of him. Standing beside the bed, he towered over Jonathan, and yet vulnerability lurked in his wide eyes and parted lips. Water dripped from his towel-dried hair to dot his shoulders, and other droplets clung in the damp mat of his chest hair.

Connor sank to his knees beside the bed, not quite as quickly as a dropped toy, but also not slowly. His teeth caught his lower lip for a moment, and he leaned forward to fold his arms on the mattress. His gaze never left Jonathan’s body. Or specifically, Jonathan’s torso and the blouse and pin.

“Do you like them?” His voice sounded too small to have emerged from that chest.

“I do.” He reached across the mattress and gripped Connor’s chin.

Connor’s eyelids fluttered closed, which even Jonathan knew was not the way to conduct an important conversation.

“Look at me.”

On command, those eyes opened wide. His dark pupils had chased away the green-gold of his tawny irises. He already looked done, and they hadn’t even begun.

“When the weather turns cool, we’ll go to a candlelit restaurant. I’ll wear my presents. With black velvet trousers. The candlelight will gleam on this pin.” He stroked the stone and its tiny silver ropes with the index finger of his free hand, while he watched Connor watch him. “And you will know how much I like them.”

His head grew heavier in Jonathan’s palm, as if his neck had relaxed beyond performing its job.

Connor had cherished him, not just today, but yesterday and the day before, too. The big things, the little things, the arm on his shoulders, the gifts, the care to make sure they didn’t drive when they shouldn’t, the pride he showed his friends. He gave and gave and gave.

Jonathan couldn’t equal that, but tonight he’d give as much as he could. “How do you want this tonight, Connor? Tell me.”

“I want.” He halted, then started over, his words a whisper aimed at the duvet. “I want you in me. Bare.”

Jonathan didn’t think that much mess was a thing he’d want for himself, but he hadn’t thought about wanting to cuddle and he was greedy for it now, so who knew what was coming down the road to flatten him. “You want me to come inside you? Say yes or no, Connor.”

He met Jonathan’s stare, eyes wide and pleading as he licked his lips and nodded. “Yes.”

Nothing seemed to embarrass Connor tonight, so he might as well ask the next question. “Do you also want me to pretend that you’re my manservant?”

“Yes,” Connor’s flushed deepened and he licked his lips. “That.”

He’d been right.

When he squeezed Connor’s chin, he felt the hinge of his jaw open and his lips part as he panted in Jonathan’s hand. He shouldn’t have this much authority over another person, not like this, he was going to mess this up, he was going to make a mistake.

He took a breath, the deep shuddery kind that felt like walking on rocks.

For Connor. Connor wanted this. He needed to get out of his head and get this right. “Then why are you shirking your duties? You haven’t turned down my bed.”

Connor liked the command, that would be the meaning of the way his nostrils flared and he scrambled to stand and pull back the duvet as soon as Jonathan left the bed. The white towel slipped to show one hip bone, and parted on Connor’s thigh, and in general was dangerously close to becoming irrelevant.