The Gentleman and the Rogue by Bonnie Dee, Summer Devon Read Free Book Online

I am, sir.” He pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed the side of his head.
    Impatiently Alan moved his hand aside and checked for blood, but only felt the huge goose egg on the back of Jem's head. Alan bit back the automatic apology that rose to his lips. He had nothing to be sorry for. The whelp had tried to steal from him and had suffered the consequences. But Alan couldn't fight the urge to gently sift his fingers through the sandy brown hair and try to stroke away the pain. He paused with his hand cupping the side of Jem's head and once more stared into the younger man's wide blue eyes, so innocent-seeming.
    “Will you let me go?”
    “Well, I'm hardly going to call the constable, am I?” Alan took his hand away from the silken hair and the hard skull beneath, and as he did so, he suddenly felt bereft. This was the end of his evening. The lad would leave now, but not before Alan paid him his half crown anyway—such a meager amount for the extreme pleasure he'd given him. Alan realized he didn't want Jem to disappear back into the festering slum from which he'd come, never to be seen again.
    He also realized that his plan to end his life didn't seem as inevitable as it had earlier that evening. The sex, the companionship, the laughter at Jem's silly joke, and even the anger over his thievery, had all conspired to make him think of something other than the necessity of blowing his brains out. Had life suddenly become a little less dire because of the thief sitting on his bedroom floor, cradling his head in both hands? He suspected that once Jem left him to silence again, morose inertia would settle over him once more. He didn't want to let go of this temporary distraction yet.
    “Do you want to go?” he asked before his logical mind could pull the reins on the impulse.
    “Pardon, sir?” Jem looked up, elbows on knees, hands still cupping either side of his head.
    “Do you have another pressing engagement?”
    The youth stared at him warily. “Why? What do I have to do to make up for the stealing?”
    Alan waved a hand. “I'll forget that, provided you promise no such further behavior. Trust me, you wouldn't make it out of this house unscathed. Badgeman would see to it, if I didn't.”
    “What, then?” A frown still knit his finely arched brows. “You want another free fuck to make up for what I done?”
    “I don't want a free anything. I'll still pay you what I owe for the evening's…entertainment, but it's late—very late—and I thought you might wish to sleep here tonight.”
    Jem's eyes widened again, and his brows rose as if Alan had asked him to climb naked on the roof and crow like a rooster. “Now there's an abrupt left turn. You've gone from trying to split me head open to asking me to stop the night. I don't often find myself flabbergasted, but you've left me speechless, sir. Absolutely speechless.”
    “Not absolutely,” Alan said drily.
    He had almost a lifetime of predictable, calm behavior, and in one evening he'd indulged in the most sinful of activities and displayed a range of volatile emotions he hadn't indulged in since his fourteenth year. That was the year he'd bounced between bleak despair and rage, when he'd understood his perverted taste could not be banished by icy baths or vigorous, exhausting exercise. At least as a lad he hadn't lost his mind. Tonight apparently he had.
    Jem rose to his feet, wobbling and squinting. “Ugh.”
    “Your head is still injured,” Alan said. “You should have the devil of a headache for a time, and someone should watch you, wake you on occasion.”
    “Naw, no need to worry about my head. It's hard as a horseshoe. But if you care to wake me, I won't object.” Jem leered then simply grinned as if he laughed at himself.
    Alan rubbed his cheek. “I'll ring for Badgeman to take the dishes away.”
    He considered going to look for the ex-sergeant to explain privately that his guest would be staying the night, but he didn't want to leave