Temptation ~ The second novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

attitude and pockmarked skin. Therefore Oliver had, with a defeated sigh, prepared himself to spend the summer together with a stubborn and slightly obstinate youngster, who would try to cover his limited intelligen ce and laziness behind an insecure mask of tiresom e grumpiness.
    Oliver had never – not even in his wildest dreams! – expected his student to be a devastatingly attractive young gentleman, whose appearance instantly had the most profound effect on poor Oliver. This must be a dream, Oliver thought frantically, while he forced down the upwelling panic and a sudden unwanted desire that tore inside him. Or possibly a nightmare … he added quietly and forced himself to control his outward expression and tried to smiled politely.
    His student was older than Oliver had expected him to be. In fact, Winston Henley was probably only a few years younger than Oliver himself, who was four-and-twenty years old.
    They were nearly the exact same height, Oliver noticed when the other man came closer to him : however , there ended all similarity between them.
    Oliver nervously adjusted his thin spectacles while he studied the other young gentleman.
    While Oliver had straight hair in an indistinct washed-out mouse-brown colour, neatly parted in the middle, the young man in front of him had thick strawberry blond wavy hair that was cut short in the neck, but with a longer, side - swept fringe. His fair hair stood in odd contrast to his almond-shaped brown eyes, which were nothing like Oliver’s own grey-blue eyes that had the same dull colour as the smog covering a depressing coal mining landscape.
    A perfectly straight nose and a set of curved lips made the other young man look slightly elfin in appearance; however , his clean-shaved cheeks enhanced his rather strong jawline and made him look more masculine.
    He really is annoyingly handsome, Oliver thought with a silent sigh. In an attempt to clear his thoughts from any further wicke d distractions, Oliver removed his thin oval spectacles and absentmindedly started to clean them with the sleeve of his linen shirt, oblivious to the fact that he creased the fabric in the process.
    His new student was too handsome to be considered pretty or fine-looking, Oliver concluded with a general sinking feeling, laced with an acute sensation of suppressed desire. There was no doubt about it: Winston Henley managed to be, in poor Mr Oliver Sanders’ eyes, the embodiment of perfect dangerous attraction.
    It is going to be the worst summer ever, Oliver thought rather ominou sly , but instead he said politely in a light tone, “I am delighted to meet you, Mr Henley. I do hope that we will get along and that you will prove to be a worthy student.”
    Oliver wanted to shut his eyes hard and almost grimaced at his own remark. Can I sound more pretentious than that? He must think I am a complete goose!
    “A pleasure to meet you, Mr Sanders,” Winston said and bowed with a small smile playing on his lips that made Oliver’s heart skip several beats in the most alarmin g way. Surely I must be too young to die from a heart attack , Oliver wondered in distress.
    “And you, sir,” Oliver said and bowed back, perhaps a tad bit stiffly. He put on his glasses again and tried to regain some of his composure. “I assume that your father already has informed you regarding my duties? I have been told that you had to quit Eton due to illness and had to be sent home and that you are somewhat behind in your studies ; is that correct?”
    “Illness?” Winston said in surprise and with a new unnerving smile.
    “Er, yes? Was I mistaken?”
    “Well , t o be perfectly honest, I was , in fact , expelled,” Winston said. His lips curled upwards as his smile broadened , and his brown eyes gleamed mischievously. “For bad behaviour, actually.”
    The way Winston said it, softly and in a rather wicked manner, almost brought Oliver over the edge of panic. He had absolutely no idea of how to reply.
    “I see … ” Oliver managed to say at last after a rather long pause. He cleared his throat.
    “Nevertheless,” Winston said slowly and leaned disturbingly close to Oliver , carelessly invad ing Oliver’s personal sphere with a vengeance. Oliver wanted to back away, but he stood petrified. He could smell the lanolin from the other man’s pomade in his hair and the faint smell of sandalwood from his clean-shaved cheeks. Winston lowered his voice. “But just for the record and just so that you