The Gentleman’s Guide to Getting Lucky (Montague Siblings, #1.5)
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I had kissed my fair share of lads who had only used me as a counterpoint to their own virtue. My primary contribution to our circles back home had been making everyone else feel grounded and well-behaved in comparison.
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Maybe I could never be the version of myself I wanted for Percy, no matter how hard I tried or how much of a reformed rake I aspired to be.
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“No, no,” I said quickly. “It’s more that I find it hard to understand how every single person you meet doesn’t want to climb you like a ladder.”
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I suddenly feel hot and sticky all over, too aware of every place where my clothes sit upon my body and desperate to itch them all.
41%
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Dear God, why did I agree to make a production of this? We should have gotten this big first over unceremoniously, with no pastries and no flowers and no speeches, though I wouldn’t say no to a bit of wine. Why is it so much easier to take my trousers off in front of someone I couldn’t give a fig about?
43%
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Perhaps it’s because it’s Percy, the first person with whom I’ve ever made it this far that mattered. Or perhaps it’s because in the shadowy corners of my heart, I know I’m the sort of person you romp with for one wild night and then you climb out the window before I wake. The
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Not the sort you bet all your chips on a life with. How long before he realizes that? And how much longer before he regrets wasting his first time on me?
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This is the place where you have sex and start your life together! It all begins here! THIS IS THE FIRST PLACE YOU WILL DISAPPOINT THE PERSON YOU LOVE!
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He reaches up and cups my face in his hands, so gentle and so sweet, and why does someone as gentle and sweet as Percy Newton want to be with someone as raw and rough as me?
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and Lord I have never felt more like a pile of soggy porridge molded into human form.
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How had loving him this much made me selfish and drunk and awful, while he had grown even kinder and softer in its harsh light?
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“And maybe we can’t make it work. But maybe that doesn’t matter because we’re tough and we’re stupid and we’re going to try anyway.”
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“You deserve a reward for all I put you through.” “You’re my reward.” “What a rotten reward I am.” “Not to me. Why do you think everyone needs some sort of recompense for being around you?” he says, his voice so gentle I almost start to cry.
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And then he smiles. That full, bright smile that crinkles his nose just a bit. And what the hell am I supposed to do with that?
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and I can’t open my eyes because the ocean is enormous and mean and it’s hurting me.
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I am overwhelmed with how much I love him. It floods me and overflows. It feels like I made the ocean.
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I want to be the only thing touching him. I want to be the only thing that ever touches him again. I will be envious of every shirt he ever wears, the cuffs of his coats, the trousers going soft with wear where they rub his inner thighs.
78%
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I can’t remember intimacy ever involving so much happy laughter before.
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but there’s a vulnerability that comes from being the only one completely undressed that I don’t want to put him through.
89%
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“If you thought I was ignorant as to the nature of your relationship with Mr. Newton, you may need to reexamine your concept of appropriate physical fondness between friends.”
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in. I wonder suddenly if this is what it’s meant to be like, with a father and a son and a first real love.
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“I love you,” I say quietly. “You know that?” “And I you, my darling boy.”