“Never. There never was. Never will be.” Ben’s free hand tightened on Jonah’s hip. “Make this last, Jay. Don’t stop.”
“Ben. My Ben.” Jonah was moving again, filling him, hands in his hair, and like a coward Ben shut his eyes, because as much as he wanted to remember every second of this last time, he didn’t want to remember the look on Jonah’s face. It helped, in fact. He could concentrate then, on Jonah’s weight, the rasp of hairs and play of muscle, the sensation of Jonah in him, possessing him, claiming every part of him as he had done since he first walked into that little pub and stole Ben’s breath.
Ben groaned aloud, heedless of noise—too late to care now—and heard Jonah’s panting in his ear. They were moving faster, together, gripping hard, fingers marking skin. Ben pushed back, pulling Jonah deep, and felt pleasure stab through him. Jonah burrowed into him, face in his shoulder, Ben’s legs clamped round him, and cried out, and they came together, rocking and pulsing against each other, so entwined that it almost felt impossible that they could be pulled apart.
Chapter Fifteen
When he woke the next morning, Jonah was gone.
Ben sat up in bed, jerking the chain straight and startling himself with the restraint. The candles were still burning, and the bed was empty.
“Jay?” he whispered aloud.
“Here.” It came from above, and Ben looked up to see Jonah crunched up on top of the ancient dark wood wardrobe.
“What are you doing?”
“I was awake.” Jonah leapt lightly down. “I thought I’d get off the ground one last time.” He moved to the bed, to Ben’s arms. “I’m scared, Ben.”
Ben’s arms tightened. “I know.”
There was a knock at the door, a rattle of the handle. Jonah stalked over, glowering, and turned the key in the lock without bothering to open it. He threw himself back onto the mattress with an air that reminded Ben just a little of Bethany in a temper.
The door opened, revealing Day and Merrick. They stood in silence for a moment, looking at the two men on the bed, then Day said, “Well.” It sounded resigned.
“I did say, sir,” Merrick remarked. “Never bet against my lord. Bastard with a bet, that one.”
“And intolerable in victory. All right, tell him the good news, I can handle these two.” Day gave Jonah a look as Merrick departed. “I can’t say I expected to see you here.”
“Fuck you. And I hope you lost something really valuable.”
Day ignored that, waving a hand vaguely at the candles, which went out, and walking over to the iron chain. “Right. I’m going to take this off. Spenser will come with us to London, as surety for Pastern’s continued good conduct. Once he’s delivered to the Met, you’re free to go.”
“Free to go where?” Jonah snarled. “We don’t live in London. We don’t have any money. Are you just going to leave him there?”
Day’s hand closed around the iron cuff, which became suddenly warm. He pulled it open. “Get dressed.”
Jonah grabbed his shirt off the floor. “Threatening the unskilled to get your way. Using people’s decent feelings against them. I’m amazed you and Lady Bruton didn’t get on. You’re just the bloody same.”
“Stop it,” Ben said. He’d caught the look in Day’s amber eyes at that remark, and it did not bode well for their journey.
Ben’s arm was stiff after the long night stretched out, and it took him a little longer than usual to dress. As he was fastening his boots, Jonah hovering resentfully by, there was a rapid knock, and Agnes tripped in.
“Not now, Aggie,” Jonah said. “Go to your mother, love.”
“Got a message, dun’ I?” Agnes was flushed with excitement. “Lord Crane’s compulments to Mr. Day and will ’e come to bar wi’ prisoners now. That’s you.” She pointed at Ben and Jonah, turned on her heel and sprinted out with a stifled noise that was close to a giggle. Ben looked down at his boots, so that he didn’t have to see the expression on Jonah’s face.
“Presumably he thinks this is a social occasion,” Day remarked to himself. “All right, let’s go. You two first. Don’t try my patience.”
Ben took a deep breath. “Come on, Jay. I’m with you.”
They headed along the passage in silence, boots echoing on the stone-flagged floor. Echoing footsteps had been a feature of Ben’s time in cells, and he winced at the sound.
The heavy door to the bar was shut. Jonah pushed it open. They walked in, and stopped dead.
“What—” Day began, pushing them both forward with surprising force. “Ah.”