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Felix

London, England.

Men sat in each other’s laps. Kissing. Fondling.

For everyone to see.

And they didn’t have to hide. Not here.

Excitement, and a fair bit of nerves, thrummed through Felix as he watched the revelry in the alehouse, the men openly dancing with other men. It would never cease to amaze him, watching all these men—people—be free.

“You ready for tonight?”

Felix turned to his best mate, Benedict, whose eyebrows were lifted knowingly. A huff of laughter escaped Felix. He was more than ready. Just needed him to arrive. William. Felix’s heart gave an extra-hard thump.

Felix'd had his share of trysts once he and Benedict had started perusing the cruising grounds, once they’d found their favorite molly houses—and Christ, what a surprise it had been that there were so many . An entire world of others like him.

Felix’s exploration had made one thing extremely apparent: what sort of man he attracted. He’d inherited his father’s height and breadth. Men saw him and wanted to be thrown around, liked his size.

And while he was loving finally exploring the pleasures of the flesh, he’d begun to discover what sort of man he wanted.

Felix wanted that, too—a large man to toss him around.

To make him feel small. But there weren’t many men larger than him.

And just because a man fit everything Felix wanted in the physical sense, didn’t mean they’d be compatible.

But he’d finally found someone last week when he and Benedict had been hunting in the Moorfields. William.

“I’ll admit, I'm a mite jealous. That man is a delectable specimen,” Benedict murmured.

Felix’s lips curved. That he was. Benedict had the same taste in men that Felix did. Which was actually how they'd met. Because Felix was Benedict’s ideal type.

Benedict was an actor and incredibly attractive—with rich brown hair that somehow always looked sex-tousled, and striking green-blue eyes that promised devilry. When he was on stage, he was captivating. A little over a year ago Felix might have…started attending every performance Benedict was in.

Felix hadn’t been as subtle as he’d thought, because one night after a performance, Benedict had ambled past Felix, and bold as you please, had murmured in Felix’s ear: I've felt your gaze for weeks.

Follow me and I'll give you the kind of performance they'd never dare to put on stage. Felix had stood there in shock. Because men didn’t just approach men like that. Did they?

Apparently, they did. That was when Felix realized how different it was for him versus men of a lower-class.

If he did something like that and approached the wrong man, it’d be all over the scandal sheets.

As the heir to the Earldom of Bentley, his every move was watched, scrutinized.

But for Benedict, he had an element of invisibility that made it easier to move around.

Felix hadn’t been able to resist the invitation—not as a nineteen-year-old who hadn’t ever even kissed a man.

The curiosity, the bone-aching want, had been too much.

And while Benedict and he had quite a bit of fun —Felix had also found Benedict fun as a person—there was a physical attraction, but nothing more.

They’d quickly fallen into a fast friendship, where Benedict exposed Felix to the underground world that existed for people like them.

Like this alehouse, a place designated for men like them. Mollies.

Some men seemed to own the term proudly. Felix didn’t think it quite fit him. He was just a man who enjoyed men. A sin, whispered through his mind. Unnatural . His hands clenched into fists at his sides. That’s what the world was determined to believe.

But Felix was extremely blessed. He had a family who knew of his preferences and loved him despite his defect. He could almost hear his mother’s voice, scolding him for thinking that way.

She was a dainty slip of an angel. But one did not cross Lydia Jennings or her family.

She was firm in her stance that she believed society were the ones that were defective in their beliefs.

And being in this room, full of other people like him?

It was a little easier to believe his mother.

Because surely there was nothing wrong with this: happiness, joy, love.

Benedict’s elbow dug into Felix’s side. “He’s here!”

Felix’s heart rate picked up, and he scanned the room. His gaze instantly found him , taller than nearly every other man here. Dark brown hair. Wide shoulders. Square jaw. A shiver stole down Felix’s spine.

“You’re giving yourself away.”

Felix caught Benedict’s eye, whose gaze flicked to Felix’s breeches and then back up. Felix’s cheeks heated, but a grin spread across his face. “Can you blame me?”

Benedict let out a wistful sigh. “No, I really can’t. What I wouldn’t give to be the meat in your sandwich.”

Felix snorted. “Maybe with a different man. But I want this one all to myself.”

“Yes, yes. I know. Salt in the wound.” Benedict gave Felix a small nudge. “Go get your man, Perce . And I want all the details after.”

Felix disappeared into the crowd, heading for William.

Normally, he and Benedict shared stories—sometimes shared men.

But this time? Felix thought he’d want to keep this one for himself.

Because as he dragged the man toward one of the private rooms in the back of the building, he knew tonight was the night he’d finally experience what it was like to have a man inside his body.

And there was no one more perfect than William to be his first.

William’s nose grazed against Felix’s and then he dusted a kiss over Felix’s lips. Felix’s body melted further into the bed. He'd been slightly afraid he’d built William up too much in his mind. That the reality would fall short of his fantasies. But he’d had nothing to be nervous over.

William went to roll off, and Felix quickly pulled him back. “Not yet,” Felix murmured, and William smiled against his lips.

“You like me on you, do you?” William pushed up slightly and grinned down at Felix before settling heavier on top of him.

“Like my weight pressing you down.” He flicked up a brow and then thrust his hips gently.

It was a tease without any true intent behind it.

It was clear William wasn’t ready for another round.

But his eyes stretched wide when he felt the very obvious evidence that Felix very much was.

“Already?” William’s lips parted, and he glanced between their bodies.

Felix rocked his hips and grinned. “Trust me when I say I’m full of surprises.”

William’s lids lowered, and the heat in his gaze was scalding. “That you are, Perce.”

Felix fought a wince. He never used his real name—no one could find out who he truly was.

Only Benedict knew because he trusted Benedict implicitly.

Benedict even visited his family’s country home in Kent on occasion.

Once Felix's mother had learned he had a new friend, she'd insisted on meeting him.

There were no secrets in the Jennings family. It was safer for everyone that way.

“If we’re going to go again, I need sustenance. I’ll get us refreshments.” William’s deep voice rumbled over Felix’s ear, sending a shiver through his frame.

William chuckled. He rolled off Felix, pressed a firm kiss against his lips, and hopped out of bed.

Felix watched boldly as William pulled on a pair of breeches. Urgh . The man was glorious. Felix didn’t know what the man did for work, but it had to be something active. Because the legs on that man? He barely held back his groan.

William opened the door and turned back to Felix. “I’ll be right back.” And with a last smile, he disappeared from view.

As soon as the door clicked shut, a grin swallowed Felix’s face.

His stomach was a fluttery mess, and his heart wouldn't calm down. He really liked that man. And the way William kissed him, the way he’d touched Felix.

Even when he’d been rough, dominating, there had been a tenderness to the way his hands had roamed Felix.

It had Felix feeling all kinds of hopeful that perhaps this was going to be more than just a casual tryst. That it could be more .

They’d only known each other a week, but William had given every indication he was interested in Felix for more than just physical dalliances. Christ, Felix wanted to tell the man his real name. He didn't feel right withholding it after what they'd shared.

He picked up his pocket watch for the umpteenth time. And frowned. It’d been close to thirty minutes since William left. How long did it take to get refreshments?

A muffled bang shook through the room. He fisted the coverlet as the bed shook slightly.

Then yelling and screaming started.

And didn’t stop.

Felix shot off the bed and scrambled for his breeches. Thuds and pounding mixed with the shouts. Glass breaking echoed, and the thud of stomping boots grew louder.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Felix hurried for the door and barely jumped out of the way when it crashed open.

The men were on him before he had a chance to react.

His arms were pinned behind his back, but Felix wasn’t a small man.

He shook and twisted, driving him and the men on him into the wall.

Their grips loosened just enough he was able to snake free and dart out of the room.

But he only made it a few paces before more men were on him, shoving him into wall, surrounding him with the stench of sweat and foul breath.

The hall was a cacophony of shouting, grunts, and the occasional scream of pain.

Others like Felix were being thrust against walls and apprehended by constables and men with truncheons.

Bow Street Runners.

Cold metal pressed against Felix’s wrists, followed by a sharp click. Escape was becoming less and less likely. But if he could escape, even handcuffed, he could try to get to his townhouse. Oh God. Benedict. He needed to find his friend.