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

velvet curtains aside. Sunlight from outside filled the room , and Oliver was rewarded by a mixture of protests and growls from the bed area. There! Much better! Oliver thoug ht, satisfied.
    “Are you going to get up, Mr Henley?” Oliver asked. “Or do I have to fetch a bucket of water and throw it over you?”
    In reply Winston swore drowsily in a more colourful way than Oliver had anticipated from a v iscount’s son. Shaking his head slowly , Oliver walked over to the large bed , and then he bluntly pulled the quilt and sheets from the bed with a sharp tug.
    “What in the Devil’s name are you doing?” Winston excl aimed.
    “I am getting you ready for our lesson , of course,” Oliver replied pragmatically before he got somewhat distracted against his own will.
    The sight of Winston with charmingly tousled bed hair and the fact th at he was only wearing a nightshirt that was only partly buttoned did take the edge off Oliver’s irritation , and suddenly Oliver was quite relieved that he was holding the bed quilt decently in front of him, as his thoughts and eyes helplessly strayed in a rather inappropriate manner.
    “What? You cannot treat me like this!” Winston shouted. “I will talk to my father!”
    “Oh, I have already spoken to him this morning,” Oliver said loft ily . “And he told me to get you out of bed and make sure that you attended your studies!”
    The last part was not entirely true ; however , Winston could not know that, Oliver reasoned and tried not to look at his studen t’s bare legs. A white and loosely cut flannel nightshirt should not be able to look fl attering or invitin g on anyone , man or woman. However, on Winston it managed to look puzzlingly tempting; it was as if the flannel garment playfully begged Oliver to rip it off.
    Besides, the nightsh irt was almost too short, Oliver could not fail to notice. No, wait. I was wrong. It definit e ly is altogether too short! Why on earth could not a viscount make sure that his son had proper clothes that fitted correctly? Oliver wondered. He swallowed hard and tried to look away and appear unaffected.
    Winston muttered a new oath and swung both of his legs over the edge of the four-poster bed. He drew one hand through his blond wavy hair and threw Oliver a dark look.
    “You are a rather horrible teacher ; did you know that?”
    “On the contrary,” Oliver said and was surprised that he sounded so calm. “It is , however, my duty as a tutor to make sure that my student shows up to his lesson. Even if it is fairly early in the morning.”
    “Oh,” Winston said. A mischievous look had spread over his face , and his eyes gleamed dangerously. “Is that really the only reason why you are here … in my bedchamber?”
    His tone manage d to sound both decidedly t easin g , but also slightly seductive to Oliver’s growing alarm. I am his teacher! Oliver tried to rem ind himself, rather frantically.
    “I-I-I do not know what you mean by that, Winston,” Oliver said and felt himself starting to blush. “I meant Mr Henley, of course.”
    “Oh, but I think you do … ”
    “I … ” Oliver started to say, but the rest of his sentence died when Winston , with a nonchalant motion , removed his nightshirt. He did wear a pair of knee-length cotton drawers underneath , or otherwise , Oliver was quite convinced that he would have had a fit of some kind. Or possibly wrestl ed the other man down on the bed and ravis hed him, the risk of being seen by the servants be damned.
    Still, the sight of Winston’s naked and almost illegally attractive chest and his bare shoulde rs , deliciously strong and lean at the same time , would haunt Oliver for days – not to mention nights! – to come.
    “Now, exactly why are you in my bedchamber again?” Winston said, smiling so innocently that all warning bells in Oliver’s head went off.
    So there is a mutual interest , then, Oliver thought , bewildered, because the conclusion did not really make things better. In fact, it did make it decidedly far worse! Silently resisting a beautiful and ignorant young man was one thing, being the target of his whims and seductive teasing quite another. And Oliver was definit e ly not used to that sort of attention.
    Oliver felt himself slowly panicking and started to back away, letting the quilt fall to the floor. It really would be a perfect disaster if Lord Henley found his newly employed tutor in the same bed as his son!
    “I will meet you in the library