Page 17 of Jonathon, After All

Americans’ manners were generally more casual and they were rarely serious about sex. They were far more likely to make jokes about having sex and the types of sex people had, while clinging to their Puritanical attitudes toward nudity and fear of the actual act.

It meant nothing and Jonathon didn’t mean it.

Ich glaube, ich spinne.

Leo had told himself that it was just his exile getting to him and that he was making too much of an offhand comment. But that hadn’t stopped him from imagining the possibilities. And just imagining had him squirming with discomfort and his conscience shuddered at the thought of how inappropriate it would be.

Nothing could be more improper than taking advantage of an impressionable and inexperienced young man while he was a guest in Leo’s home. Anyone could accuse Leo of using his influence and preying upon a longtime family friend to appease his primal, carnal needs while on holiday, and they would not be wrong. Because that was exactly what Leo had envisioned while Jonathon blushed and teased about being entertained.

Leo knew just how he’d entertain Jonathon, but his instincts had also warned that there was far more than years between them. Jonathon was bright and beautiful with an effervescent curiosity that enthralled Leo, and he did not want to be the one to tarnish it.

“Are you going to entertain me…sir?”

He had certainly sounded like he understood.

Once upon a time, before Leo had to worry about the Foundation peeking over his shoulder and he was just a research student at Oxford, he had attended a few private clubs. He had only attended a few, a few times, because so much of his time was devoted to his studies, his military service, and his brothers. But Leo had experimented and learned enough to know that he craved dominance during his sexual encounters, just as he craved it in his work, social, and familial relationships.

That probably wouldn’t surprise anyone, but Leo had yet to find anyone outside of those clubs who understood the type of submission he craved from his partners. Granted, Leo hadn’t dated many people, he was so focused on his research and the various initiatives he had been involved in. And while he had a few enjoyable nights with some interesting men and women, Leo hadn’t felt the right kind of chemistry or comfortable enough to explain his preferences.

So, Leo had assumed that exploring rough, kinky sex with a submissive partner was no longer an option. Until Jonathon had purred like a bratty sub Leo might meet in one of those exclusive, adult clubs. He had called Leo sir and started a fire in his brain and his briefs that wouldn’t be extinguished.

“Whatever you think,” Leo had murmured to Sabine, too distracted by the dream he had had about Jonathon. Leo had tossed and turned, forbidding himself to think of the beautiful younger man, but he had followed Leo into a wild, writhing exchange in the tower. Leo was almost ashamed of himself for casting the shy, sensitive, young artist in such a torrid fantasy.

Aside from a few remarks and his baffling offer on the terrace, Jonathon had given no indication that he was experienced in such matters or even interested in exploring anything other than a casual conversation with Leo.

Would he?

What if Jonathon was being cautious and waiting for Leo to make the first move?

“Did you hear me? Are you alright?” Sabine asked and gave his cheek a soft pat before checking his forehead for a fever.

“I’m fine,” Leo said, laughing as he held her off. “But I think I might go for a walk.”

“You have been restless all morning. Maybe a little exercise will do you some good. I have a dozen calls to make,” she said with a sigh, so Leo had left her, slipping out the terrace door and heading around to the library.

Leo recalled that Jonathon planned to spend the dreary morning reading after his walk with Muriel since the light wasn’t right anywhere for painting landscapes. He found Jonathon in a chair by the window, his legs hanging over the arm as he chewed on a thumbnail. The creaking of the old door announced Leo’s arrival and Jonathon smiled in greeting, brightening the gray morning more than the sun ever could.

“Don’t let me disturb you,” Leo had said, strolling past the library’s historical documents collection. He clasped his hands behind his back, attempting to appear relaxed and casual.

“Muriel sent me after her next book. I told her I’d spotted a few Agatha Christies in here,” he explained and held up the book he had been reading. “She likes new books on her Kindle and makes the text as big as street signs, but Muriel prefers her classics in print for the ambiance,” he explained.

“I do appreciate ebooks,” Leo conceded while idly selecting a book and opening it. “My back does, at least. It’s made my luggage a lot lighter, not having to carry so many books.”

Jonathon’s lips twisted thoughtfully. “Do you carry many bags these days?”

“I—” Leo opened his mouth to argue, then winced. “I don’t suppose I do lately. But I assume someone appreciates that I don’t have dozens of books in my bags.”

“So many?” Jonathon swung his legs around and sat up. “I didn’t realize being Margrave required so much reading.”

Leo shook his head, chuckling. “It doesn’t. Most of my reading consists of ecological studies and poetry.”

“Poetry?” Jonathon sounded surprised, but Leo nodded.

“I don’t always have the time or patience to read a whole novel. But a good poet can tell an entire story—move me the way a whole novel can—with just a few words or sentences.”

“There is beauty in directness and brevity is an art in itself,” Jonathon mused.

“I think so,” Leo said, although he felt like he was being an indirect, bumbling fool. He glanced at the book in his hands and rolled his eyes: a cattle breeding guide. “Most of the time,” he murmured while sliding it back into place. He had no idea why he had sought Jonathon out. Especially when Leo knew that Jonathon had been joking and this was a dangerous, foolish game.

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