Chasing Benedict (The Gentleman Courtesans #5) - Victoria Vale Page 0,2
warm in no time, won’t you, lad?”
Benedict could only stare, numb with disbelief as she disrobed without a modicum of shame. She was a petite woman, with an unremarkable face and a head of stringy, lifeless hair. However, everything south of her neck made her popular among the young men—her wide hips and heavy breasts, the thick bush of dark hair between her thighs.
Morbid fascination gripped him, as he had never before seen a nude woman in person. His schoolmates traded books and bawdy prints, and Benedict had glanced over them all in a quest to understand the fascination of other boys with the opposite sex. While he could certainly appreciate a pretty face or the efforts of a well-dressed lady, he wasn’t nearly as obsessed with body parts and erotic functions as the others. It seemed yet another thing that wasn’t quite right about him, but the depth and meaning of it escaped him whenever he dwelled on it.
“Well? C’mon then,” she prodded when he failed to act on her indecent display. “Night’s already paid for, an’ time’s waistin’!”
Benedict stumbled when he was pushed farther into the stall, his heart thudding wildly against his breastbone. He had never given much thought to the inevitability of tupping his first woman, but certainly didn’t relish doing away with his virginity in a stable with a gang of other boys looking on. Jemima advanced, but he backed away as if recoiling from the strike of a venomous snake.
“No,” he protested, bumping against the wall of boys blocking his only way out. “Let me go.”
“What’s the matter, Benny-boy?” someone taunted, poking at his spine with a bony finger. “There’s nothing to be frightened of. She doesn’t bite.”
“Not unless he wants me to,” Jemima quipped, prompting more laughter. She grinned, showing a black gap where one of her front teeth ought to be.
“I said no,” Benedict snapped, fighting to keep his voice from wavering as he spun to face the others. “Stand aside.”
Among them stood his most hated foe, Lionel Blackburn. Like Benedict, he was larger than the other boys—tall and wide through the shoulders. His face was composed of arrogant lines and harsh edges, with dark, menacing eyes that showed his disdain for anyone he thought beneath him. Benedict, he had decided upon their first meeting, was perfect prey for teasing, insults, and cruelty.
“Now, now,” Lionel chided with a sneer. “We went through all this trouble for you. The least you could do is say thank you.”
Benedict ground his teeth, fists clenched at his sides as he stared at Lionel. He had never wanted to plant someone a facer as badly as he did Lionel.
“No, thank you,” he growled. “Get out of my way.”
“Here now!” Jemima exclaimed. “You told me the little shit was eager to ’ave me!”
Lionel inclined his head, as the other boys elbowed one another and grinned. “He ought to be … unless there’s some reason our friend Benny doesn’t fancy a willing woman.”
Benedict scoffed. “I’m not putting my prick anywhere yours has been.”
A palm slammed into Benedict’s chest, throwing him off his feet. With the wind knocked from him, he was helpless to avoid the hands of half a dozen boys divesting him of his meager clothing.
“He’s just a little shy,” someone bellowed as he was stripped of first one stocking, then the other.
“Nothing to be afraid of,” another added. “Just lie there. Jemima will do all the work.”
Laughter and ribald jokes floated through the air as Benedict scuttled away from his assailants, stark naked and freezing.
“Sod off, the lot of you,” he snarled.
Lionel grinned, raking Benedict’s nude body with a knowing gaze. “Something the matter? You’re as limp as a dead fish!”
Humiliation washed over him as the other boys took in the evidence of his disinterest. He hadn’t so much as stirred at the sight of Jemima.
“It’s bloody freezing,” he countered. “And I’ve already told you, I’m not interested. Now get out of my way!”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Lionel laughed. “I told you there was something wrong with him. He’s backwards … broken.”
“I’ll break you if you don’t stand aside,” Benedict roared, his face flushing hot. Fingernails digging into his palms, he shook with rage.
“You ungrateful little shit,” the boy to Lionel’s left spat.
Everything happened so fast that it was nearly over before Benedict could make sense of it. Lionel’s fist slammed into his gut, making him double over. Another blow snapped his head back, and he lost his balance.