The Rake, the Rogue and the Roué (Another England #1)
He is spending this entire night dodging his mother, marriage-minded nitwits and the mothers of the “nitwits”. Why he agreed to come to this ball he doesn’t know, it’s not like he’s ever going to marry. Then they showed up, both of them. Together. He doesn’t understand it, they hate each other. He is best friends with both but he pulled back from each relationship because he couldn’t stand the bickering and snide comments when one found out he had plans with the other. He’s lusted after both but never been able to choose between them. How have they managed to arrive together and why are they both staring at him?
He’s blond, with his hair à la Brutus. He’s broad-shouldered. He’s beautiful. He’s a Regency rake in a cutaway coat, cravat with stickpin, waistcoat and undoubtedly very tight inexpressibles (certainly golden-furred beneath all that), standing in a ballroom with golden pillars, lit by hundreds of candles in glittering gold-and-crystal candelabra and chandeliers. He doesn’t yet know who’s heading toward him, or his eager expression might not be so… eager.
This story was written as a part of the M/M Romance Group's " Love’s Landscapes " event. Group members were asked to write a story prompt inspired by a photo of their choice. Authors of the group selected a photo and prompt that spoke to them and wrote a short story.
This story may contain sexually explicit content and is intended for adult readers . It may contain content that is disagreeable or distressing to some readers. The M/M Romance Group strongly recommends that each reader review the General Information section before each story for story tags as well as for content warnings.
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