One Summer Night

By Ellie Thomas

In 1801, Martin Dunne spends his days as a hardworking clerk at the War Office in London’s Whitehall. One summer evening, after a drink in a Fleet Street tavern, he has an unexpected passionate encounter with a seducer who haunts his dreams.

But when they accidentally meet at a society function, the alluring stranger not only turns out to be the son of one of Martin’s superiors but also betrothed to a trusting young lady.

Martin’s hopes are dashed as he imagines the Hon. William Grant is a cynical rake of the worst kind. But has he misunderstood the situation? And might he allow Will to explain and give their fleeting connection a chance to develop into a fully-fledged romance?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Aug 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685501938

Book preview

Chapter 1

July, London 1801

Martin had planned to remain in the Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese tavern for only one drink, to loosen his shoulders, chat idly with his companions and unwind after a long day hunched over his desk in a stuffy office in Whitehall.

Given the steamy summer weather, it was stifling in the cramped tavern, and the noise of the customers, although jolly, was increasing in volume. Martin finished the contents of his tankard, made his excuses to his friends, weaved his way around the overcrowded tables, and then almost as he reached the door, he stopped in his tracks.

Even in profile, the stranger standing near the bar was strikingly out of place in these commonplace surroundings. From what Martin could perceive, he was of middling height, slightly made, and with a fair ethereal beauty. While Martin was peering through the gloom to get a better look, the man turned full face, and their eyes met.

He was every bit as enticing as his profile had promised. Although dressed carelessly, he had a look of the quality about him, with those finely-wrought features, almost too delicate for a man, and a slender physique not accustomed to strenuous labor. But what captivated Martin was that intense gaze. The rest of him might look youthful, modest, even unassuming, but those deep blue eyes were worldly, knowing, and outrageously provocative.

Without breaking the connection, he gave a lazy smile, one that made Martin’s lust snap and stir, and then as if he had been waiting only for Martin, with a raised eyebrow, he cocked his head in enquiry in the direction of the door.

 Martin nodded, instinct overriding his habitual caution, and, opening the door, he watched as the young man prowled toward him, his hips swaying deliberately as he sashayed past Martin and onto Fleet Street.

Although still warm, it was blessedly cooler outside, but Martin felt flushed with the promise of this instant attraction. With a quick wary glance over his shoulder to check no one observed them, Martin followed his quarry to the narrow lane near the tavern.

Before he could speak, the man was on him, his slender body against his, writhing urgently. God, you need this, don’t you? Martin muttered, as with not even the prelude of a kiss, the other man buried his head in Martin’s neck, rubbing his torso provocatively to inflame Martin’s senses past all reason.

At that urgent thrusting, any sense of self-preservation deserted Martin. He gripped the man’s high, firm arse, letting him grind himself to near oblivion on Martin’s very interested stand, and his heart nearly stopped when the man raised his head to whisper in Martin’s ear, "Fuck me, now. Please."

Before Martin could think, Dear God in heaven! Right here, right now? He can’t mean that! The man reached down to grip Martin’s cloth-covered cock with a moan of anticipation. Martin’s vision adjusted to the dim light, and as he hastily undid the front fall of his breeches, he could sense the other man moving slightly away to perform the same hasty action. Then the stranger turned and braced himself against the wall, legs apart, the curve of his white buttocks merely a faint shadow, reminding Martin why that part of the body was commonly called blind cupid.

Martin could not help but place a hand on that pale bared skin, clutching and groping as the other man shivered at the sensation. Martin’s fingers slid over the tempting slope of his bum, between those parted thighs, and as they drifted lower, with an erotic shock, he realized the other man was