most powerful men in England, you know.”
Lionel’s body broke out in tingles from head to toe, and not simply because David continued to wrap himself around him as though they were two vines twining with the same tree. At least David shifted his mouth to the side so that both of them could breath. Lionel closed his eyes, digging his fingertips into David’s sides, and prayed that one of the guests George was spouting off to would ask the question that would allow them to act, allow him to break free of David and focus on business instead of the pounding in his heart and his cock.
“You don’t think your father is guilty of the accusations that have been made against him?” the man asked.
“Of course not.” George sniffed. “Child kidnapping indeed. Father doesn’t even like children. Why, he’s utterly disowned my brother, Maxwell, because Max went and got himself involved in some silly orphanage.”
Lionel arched an eyebrow. If that was truly the reason George believed Max Hillsboro had been disowned, then he was a block-headed idiot who got what he deserved.
“I’ve heard good things about Mr. Siddel’s orphanage,” the woman said.
“How can you disbelieve accusations against your father when a mountain of evidence was uncovered pointing toward his guilt?” the man asked.
“Please, please,” Lionel whispered, eyes still closed, tilting his head back to rest against the wall and praying that Eastleigh would speak what needed to be spoken.
His eyes flew open a moment later as David leaned in to nibble at the stretched line of his neck, his tongue brushing against Lionel’s pulse. The sudden movement was so intimate that Lionel gasped and fought to swallow a groan as his prick stiffened even more.
“Stop,” he hissed, digging his fingertips into David’s sides in a way he hoped hurt, though he doubted it could with the layers of clothing David wore.
“You beg for me one moment then tell me to stop the next?” David asked, leaning back far enough so that Lionel could see the heat and confusion in his eyes as illuminated by the light of the stars and the ballroom.
“I wasn’t—” Lionel hissed in irritation, mostly because part of him had, in fact been begging for David. A part of him had been begging for David from the moment they’d met. “Eastleigh,” he whispered, glancing toward the ballroom door.
“…will be resolved soon enough.” George had gone on with his conversation.
Lionel tensed, praying they hadn’t missed the confession they were depending on while distracted.
“But I don’t understand,” the woman said. “How are you communicating with your father when he is in hiding?”
This time, when Lionel tensed in anticipation, David stiffened as well. The effect pressed them even closer together, but for once, Lionel had something else to think about besides how much better their position would feel without clothing.
“Yes,” the man said. “Where is your father?”
“At The Savoy, if you can believe it,” George said with a laugh.
“Thank God,” Lionel breathed as though bursting into the most magnificent orgasm of his life.
His tone must have been equally as climactic. As David pushed away from him, he made a sound as though it were agony to separate instead of doing whatever it took to make Lionel come in earnest, right then and there. David spared one final, hungry glance for Lionel before stepping into the doorway to surprise George Eastleigh.
“Did you just say your father is hiding at The Savoy hotel?” David asked, blunt and clumsy.
Lionel moved into the doorway as well, searching for Lord Clerkenwell and flagging him down eagerly, as George gaped and stammered.
“Yes, he is,” the dolt sputtered. “Has been for a week.”
Lionel thanked God for wine and idiocy. He grinned at David. “We’ve got him.”
Chapter 7
It was an absolute miracle that David’s bumbling interruption of George Eastleigh’s conversation actually led to a confession that Lord Clerkenwell and his men could act on. It was a moment of victory, but as David left Phineas Mercer’s house, along with Lionel and Lord Clerkenwell, guilt felt like a weight in his gut that he couldn’t shake. He’d never behaved so irresponsibly in his life by virtually attacking Lionel in the middle of a public ball, and the shame of losing control of himself was a bitter pill to swallow. It was as if he’d set out to prove everyone who believed men like him were capable of nothing but lust and misbehavior right, and it went against everything he’d worked for in his life. But when it came to