The Soldier's Scoundrel by Cat Sebastian

The ridiculous toff in question deftly wheeled the curricle into the inn yard. He even missed the ridiculous toffs, although he supposed he had brought his own ridiculous toff along with him. Even the inhabitants seemed to look alike, with their countrified clothes and pointlessly friendly manners. He’d been to a hundred such places with former employers or on previous investigations. Well, one confederate, if he could be called that. There would be no way for Jack to safely disappear into a crowd, no network of back alleys that he knew by heart, no trusted confederates or willing accomplices. This was likely the sort of village in which everyone knew one another. Pinafore-clad girls carried market baskets along the main street.

Passersby stopped to chat with one another.

“This is quite charming,” Rivington said approvingly. Jack’s heart sank as the curricle rolled into Pickworth. Maybe I ought to, but I don’t think I will.” And after one more lingering kiss Jack rose to his feet and left the room. “You ought to call me Oliver,” was all he could think to say. He only sat still, his erection throbbing in his breeches. Oliver let out a breath that sounded like a whimper. Oliver felt like he heard it with his cock instead of his ears. “It’ll make it that much better when I finally do fuck you, you know.” He made that word sound like a caress. Jack leaned back and Oliver could see the pulse throbbing in his neck. He wanted something that wasn’t hurried and soon forgotten. That was what Oliver wanted too, even more than he wanted immediate relief from the desire that was consuming all his senses. “I meant it when I said I was going to take my time with you. “Oh, I’m perfectly serious.” His voice was wonderfully rough.

The Soldier's Scoundrel by Cat Sebastian