Scavengers: Collection - Books 1-4 (Zombie Gentlemen) (m/m zombie steampunk erotic romance) (10 page)

A thin hand brushed along his cheek. “I hope I can count on your help in case someone doesn’t know how to behave in the presence of a lady,” he heard Juanita’s suggestive voice.

James smiled, but fortunately Lord Meldrum was the first one to say: “Absolutely. I would not let anyone disrespect you, Lady Shelley!” His voice eager, even though they were on different sides when it came to discussion. James knew the older man was a widower, but apparently, Lady Hunt was not interested, as her delicate arm encircled his own.

“That is too kind, Lord Meldrum. Thank you.”

The professor pretended not to listen and led them through a reeking corridor. James tried not to think about the cause of the putrid smell, but in those times, hardly anyone was spared from encountering human cadavers.  “The morgue is to our left, hence the smell,” he explained, leading them to a large door on the right. “This is the so called ‘Great Prosectorium’. Several autopsies and surgeries can be performed at the same time,” he said with enthusiasm, leading them to a large hall with tall, narrow windows, which reminded James of a chapel. From wooden beams hung banners depicting human body parts, cross-sections and skeletons. On the wall opposite them, there was a long, wooden plaque with the motto of St Catherine's: "A conscious mind knows no boundaries".

There were several operating tables made of shiny steel, large enough for a few people to use at once, each equipped with a standing lamp resembling a giant rotten flower. Its thick shaft was made of dark wood and strengthened by several iron braces. Black cables grew over it like a wild creeper, going all the way up to the massive circular shade hanging over the tables like over mature fruit.  Two moving bodies laid on the tables, tightly bound with steel cuffs and leather straps.

Lady Shelley made an inarticulate noise and held onto James a little stronger as if fainting. He felt sorry for her and patted her hand in a delicate manner as they walked along the long wall.

“Is this how you keep them?” James asked.

“Oh... no,” the professor shook his head, “they are kept in a special cage, but tomorrow’s anatomy class starts at six in the morning, so we prepare the specimens the day before.”

“Will they not get free somehow?” asked another member of the group.

“Oh no, that is out of the question”.

“Unless some ungodly man frees them,” Lady Shelley whispered.

James did have to nod at that comment. He was all for experiments and developing medicine, but the undead, in the center of London made him nervous. Even now, after a month had passed, he wasn’t comfortable looking into the rotting gray faces on the operating tables. Their mouths moving beneath the muzzles moaning and gritting their teeth... “We just have to hope that the security at the university is very tight...” he said, aiming his comment at the professor.

“It is, and those rooms are secured by several doors and special locks,” he explained as a small door on the other side of the hall opened to reveal a female zombie in rags being led into the room by a catchpole. The rod was about 5 feet long, which allowed a uniformed man to avoid the creature’s claws and teeth. The technician was dressed in a black set of pants and shirt, additionally covered by a leather apron. He was bald, tall and muscled. There was something almost painfully familiar about his strong form. It took another glance, as James wasn’t sure at first, but when he realized who he was looking at, his mouth fell agape, as if he had seen a ghost. Momentarily, all his insides shrunk and he felt hot and cold at the same time. Ira Russell, the man who had helped him retrieve the treasure from his mansion, the man who had burnt his face, the man who had taken his virginity... was leading the zombie to a free table, his gaze fixed on the floor. James felt an insane urge to touch him, but instead, he kept staring as if something had screwed his feet to the black and white tiles...

When did this turn sour?

*

July 10th, 1893

Warm sunlight caressed James’ body as a sharp movement of the train jerked him back to reality. He immediately recognized the steady rattle of the moving wagon, which had easily swayed him to sleep shortly after boarding. The man felt a pleasant touch of a firm male body lying along his own and he smiled. It was tight on the narrow bed, but he didn't mind. The closer they were to London, the closer they were to separating. He didn’t know what to do with this... ‘situation’.

“You slept well, boy?” he heard as a warm, rough hand traced the side of his face, now securely dressed in a clean bandage.

“We really needed that...,” James said, nuzzling Ira with his nose. He felt happy and secure in this moving train and gentle embrace.

“Yea,” Ira agreed, cradling him closer with his muscled arms as he brushed his lips along the other man’s jaw line in a tender caress.

“Careful!” James warned, thinking about the red burns on his skin. “You are an amazing man, Ira Russell,” he said seriously, looking him in the eyes.

A dark gaze met his own and Ira smiled slightly. “Bullshit,” he laughed, “You just try to flatter me.”

“We have to get up though,” James said, turning his eyes away and sitting up slowly.

“Yea, we’re close to London, “ Ira agreed, stretching his body and getting up from the bed. They were in a first class compartment, decorated with floral wallpaper and rich, gray curtains. It was small, but cozy and elegant.

“We are,” said James, increasingly worried. What would happen now? He couldn’t be seeing him as a lover. Someone would find out and he’d be hung. And even if he himself would find a way out of the accusation, Ira would definitely be the scapegoat to pay the price for their lust. James had only decided on those sinful pleasures, because he thought he might be dead tomorrow...

Ira adjusted his suspenders and flexed his neck with a snap. He looked at his companion with a smile. “Nervous, eh?”

“I am,” James agreed with a sigh, “and I was thinking... you know, about you and me?” He started dressing very fast.

Ira pouted, studying him intently. The train started to bend, changing its direction. “What ‘bout us?”

James cleared his throat and tied a luxurious piece of silk beneath his neck, standing straight as an arrow. “Maybe, if you like—, if there is any ‘us’, then maybe...” he swallowed, “we could see each other... once, every... three months? That sounds quite reasonable, right?” James smiled nervously, but his expression faltered when he watched Ira’s face tensing, his jaw muscles visibly flexing.

“You fuckin' with me?” the man hissed in a low voice.

James made a step back, almost hitting the wall. The compartment suddenly seemed far too small. “Sorry,” he muttered, lowering his gaze. His heart sunk, when he started realizing that they might not meet again.

Ira paced towards him, his whole body tense. “I’m no toy!”

“I understand...” James said, furrowing his eyebrows. The treasure hunter placed his hands on both sides of his head, towering over him in an intimidating manner.

“Once every three months? Fuck you, toff!” he spat, smashing his fist into the wall.

“I have obligations!” whined James, leaning against the wooden panels. “And it’s a sin, and I shouldn’t have in the first place, but I still really, really want to!” he exclaimed. His body was shaking from the stress of what was happening. He needed to have some kind of arrangement with this man! There was no way back now! He wouldn’t allow it!

Ira withdrew from him suddenly, spreading his arms in an angry gesture. “Well, I am no man-whore! Not gonna dance like ya want!” he exclaimed.

“What are you suggesting!?” cried James, feeling a flush on his face. To his despair, the train stopped, which meant they have arrived in London! He needed time!

Ira laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. He intertwined his fingers on the back of his own neck. “We either meet when we wan' or we don’t!”

“So we can!” James nodded quickly, already hearing people in the corridor, rushing to the exit. He caught Ira’s hand with his own. “Just... not very often...”

“Why?” sighed Ira. “We both wan' it,” he said, pulling him closer and almost brushing his lips on the other man’s.

“I can’t give into it, Ira. Sinning like that a few times a year seems reasonably forgivable, if I also lead a good life...,” he said, without the willpower to move away. It was all too overwhelming.

Ira shook his head. “You got what ya wanted,” he commented, backing off and gathering his belongings without looking at James.

“Please don’t be like that!” said James in panic, touching Ira's tattooed arm. “This could really work out!”

“Stop insultn' me!” growled the treasure hunter, brushing him off.

“And you don’t want to see me again...?” James whimpered, looking for attention like a scolded puppy. He had felt they had a connection, an understanding that they could nurture. He grabbed his own bags and made sure the suitcase was locked.

Ira breathed. “Not the way you proposed,” he said, exiting the compartment.

“No, no, no!” James exclaimed and followed him instantly. “Ira, please!” he lowered his voice, not to draw attention. Fortunately, most passengers already left their wagon.

The treasure hunter stopped with a loud sigh, his broad back arching. “What?”

“Don’t leave me with... this,” he whispered, clenching his fists.  He had always felt so alone with this problem. And now that he met someone like himself it only seemed natural that they should stick together!

“Well, what d’ya want me to do ‘bout it?” Ira asked, turning towards him with a neutral expression on his handsome face.

“Just... visit me a few times. I’m not asking for a lot,” he whispered in panic, noticing the familiar face of his wife through the window. Katherine was already on the platform with their son, Henry.

Ira breathed, looking into his eyes, all tense. “What d’ya want from me?” he finally asked in a quiet voice, his chest visibly moving as he took deep, long breaths.

I want you all over me, every day
, thought James, turning red on his face due to the shame he felt at the thought. Frustrated, he didn’t know how to express any of those feelings, so he stood there, silent, his tense lips clenched into a thin line.

“Well?” Ira demanded.

“I...” James tried to say something that could make him understand, when all of a sudden, Katherine walked straight past the other man and hugged her husband.

Her face looked really tired. “I couldn’t sleep, my love! I’m so happy you made it! Henry cried all day yesterday. He started saying you would never come back!”

Ira shook his head, looking straight into James’ face for what seemed like forever, but then turned around and got off the wagon. A deep feeling of loss gnawed at the aristocrat’s insides as he watched Ira pass and then disappear in the crowd without looking back.

*

August 17th, 1893

Ira forced the zombie’s head into an oval-shaped hole in the section table. Using a type of metal harness, he immobilized it safely and proceeded to the creature’s limbs. It was not hard for him to deal with the undead, especially within the university’s safe conditions. He took this job despite its low status, because it not only paid well, but also provided him with references, which could prove to be useful in the future if and when he needed to take up a new profession. The only thing he did not like was the hierarchy at the institution. People like him were at the bottom and he could feel it in moments like these. They were forewarned about a visit of parliament members and he was not happy about it at all. Working quickly, he did everything he could to stay invisible. Completely focused on his task, he did not listen to the voices coming from the opposite side of the hall. The zombie’s mumbling made it even easier.  Finally finished with the creature, he picked up his catchpole and quietly walked back to the technical backup. He did not lock it, as he had to bring out one more specimen. With a soft sigh, he strolled down a white corridor, which led towards the cage.

Behind him, he heard rapid footsteps and the moment he turned around, a pair of arms surrounded his neck in a cuddle and soft lips pressed to his own. He blinked, feeling that air had rapidly left his lungs. Instinctively, he gripped the other man’s arms, closing his eyes and giving into the caress. He smelled of clean clothes, straight from the laundry and leather shoe brushing paste. The smooch quickly turned into a hungry kiss, when Ira didn’t push him away. He eventually nestled him closer, grabbing a thick lock of hair with a quiet moan. His heart hammered, as he finally broke the kiss, yanking the stranger’s head back by the hair to see who it was. His self-satisfied smile faltered as he saw the flushed handsome face of no one else but James Hurst, the man who rejected him about a month ago. His heart raced and he stood there, looking into James’ eyes, as if time had frozen. He was the last person Ira expected to see here.

The man trembled in his arms and breathed hoarsely, not moving away. He pretty much pushed him onto the wall. Grabbing the other man’s wrist, Ira hauled him towards a small wooden door to a walk-in closet, without even uttering a word. His temples pulsed rapidly. He did not know what he wanted, but he knew he wanted a lot. He sensed resistance at first, but it perished after a short moment of hesitance.

“Oh... Ira...” whispered James desperately.

The door was yanked open and the other man pushed him inside, closing it once again. Pitch-black darkness engulfed them in a thick, safe cocoon and Ira’s hands found the other body with a soft sigh. Sometimes, when he was alone in bed, his mind still wandered to the warm attic in Kent.

“Oh God, oh God...!” muttered James, trying to find Ira's hands while simultaneously wrenching off his long leather work gloves. “I’m sorry! I just... I saw you... and—”

“You smell good,” the other man whispered, pulling him closer, nestling his nose in James’ neck. His body shivered, as they pressed tightly together in the comfort of darkness, not caring that only a short while ago, he used to be angry with him.

“Just this once, please? I will not bother you later!” promised James, as his hands were finding their way up Ira’s torso. His soft plea melted Ira’s heart and he let out a quivering breath, removing the ribbon from his partner’s hair and pulling him close for another hurried kiss. With his tongue caressing the depth of James’ mouth, Ira felt his cock getting as hard as a rock. He groaned in surprise, pulling the other man even closer and stroking his sides.

James kept kissing as if his life depended on it, gasping every now and then through his nose. Everything else seemed to disappear as they clung to each other in thick darkness. Ira grunted, running his fingers through the long, soft mane, excitement pulsing through his veins. He pulled his partner closer, instinctively pushing his thighs apart with his own knee, while hissing appreciatively as he felt  a stiffness there.

James let out a quiet moan. “You want me?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious. Ira shuddered, lapping at his lips. The smooth feel of shaved skin and luscious lips made him mad with lust. Not even thinking about it, he pressed at James’ arms, pushing him down.

The other man hesitated for only a moment, when he wasn’t sure what was happening, but a second later, he kneeled in the tight little room, and Ira had to instruct him no further. James’ hands trembled, but he was quick to slip under Ira’s leather apron and unbuckle his trousers. In the darkness, Ira heard his loud, hoarse breath.

“You want it, don’t ya?” he sighed, feeling him in the pitch-black room. He would love to be able to see the flush on the other man’s cheeks, lips stretched around the broad length of his cock, eyes looking up in adoration. He wondered what happened to change James’ mind. Did he miss him that much? Ira smiled at the thought.

“I do...” James whimpered, pulling Ira’s trousers down abruptly as he snuggled up to the stiff penis with his cheek, while his hands wandered off to the man’s thighs. “It hit me so hard, when I saw you...”

Immediately, Ira felt a flutter deep in his belly, letting out a shaky breath. It was not the first time he heard something like this, but if felt somehow different. “Oh yeah?” Ira grabbed his penis and lightly slapped it on the other man’s cheek. “Tell me, boy!”

“I thought that maybe you just pretended not to see me, not wanting any contact. But I still went after you,” he said, kissing the tip of the penis with affection.

Ira loved hearing this, it felt empowering. “ Yeah.... hungry for cock?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“What have you done to me?” James sighed, while kissing the length of the penis and squeezing his thighs. “I thought of you for so many nights...”

“You missed me,” Ira suggested, stroking James’ cheek and pulling the apron off with the other hand. “What d'ya miss more? Me or the cock?” he asked breathlessly.

James whimpered. “How can you ask such a thing? It is the only cock I have been acquainted with.”

Ira laughed, surprised. “So kiss it! Show it how much you love it!” he said. He loved the way James acted, it felt fresh and untainted. There wasn't much time to dwell on that though, as only a moment later, his pulsating cock got enveloped in the hot wetness of the other man’s ready mouth. “Fuck...” he moaned, letting his head fall to the back of his neck. He loved this feeling, the power he felt as he held another man’s head close, thrusting his own prick deep into his throat. James choked a bit, but he was too eager to please to move away. Ira could feel his enthusiasm for sucking.

“Fuckin’ell!” he mumbled with a smile, gripping his soft hair tightly and thrusting deeper, unable to stop himself. The inside of James’ mouth was simply too hot, too delightful. It shifted around his cock as the other man choked, making Ira groan. “Yeah... that’s ya place... suckin’ it on ya knees!”

James let out a few high-pitched moans through his nose, as Ira’s thrusts were merciless. While they indulged in mutual pleasure, James’ hands slid under Ira’s shirt and caressed his stomach and torso with a nervous tremble. The touch felt soothing on his heated skin and it almost made him ache, cock twitching between James’ lips. “What’re ya doin’ to me...” Ira breathed, smiling to himself and massaging his scalp, as James sucked a bit slower for a while, before intensifying his moves to a steady rhythm. It was amazing to feel his lips once again. This completely set Ira off guard and he grabbed his partner’s head, fucking his throat in short, frantic jabs. The other man started choking once again, but did his best to please. When Ira came, James wrapped his arms around his waist, sucking and hugging him. His lover moaned, spilling himself into the willing lips as his back hit the wall. He felt wonderfully weak. Sounds of desperate masturbation echoed in his ears as James trailed kisses along the lenght of Ira’s shaft, before finally backing away.

“Ah... kiss me,” Ira pleaded, breathing rapidly and pulling him up. He felt hot all over and didn’t have to wait long, for his request to be granted. James was panting and pushed his lips onto Ira’s, kissing him for a short moment, before he reached peak, with a few nasal moans.

Ira deepened the kiss, spinning them around and pressing the other man against the wall. Their hearts hammered against one another. It felt mind-blowing. James’ arms wrapped around his neck and the intimacy of the small, pitch-black room increased the sensation. He withdrew, still touching the other man’s lips with his own and let the back of his hand trace a delicate cheek. “That...”

“I thought you wouldn’t want me...” whispered James.

Ira chuckled. “How? With such a talent?!”

James also laughed, kissing him again and nuzzling his cheek. “I didn’t plan on all this. I hoped I could maybe steal a kiss.”

“It was more than that!” Ira giggled. Tension left his body as he hugged the other man even closer. “Villan.”

“I stole your cum like a succubus,” James whispered into his ear. He seemed really glad to be in Ira’s arms.

“A what?” Ira asked, as he kept trailing small, lazy kisses along his partner’s jaw line.

“A demon, which comes at night and steals a man’s seed...” he muttered, clearly more and more relaxed. Ira swallowed, stroking his back.

“That you are...” he whispered, noting to himself that he knew quite a few of those.

“Ira... Are you in some financial trouble that you have to work here, with those kinds of people on a Sunday? I could help.” His hand gently stroked Ira’s arm and even in the darkness it was obvious he was smiling.

Caught off guard, the other man furrowed his brows. “They pay very well. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re working in the company of Jews, you know,” he lowered his voice, “I’m not sure if that’s the company a man like you would like to keep.”

Ira’s lungs emptied as he looked down at where James’ face must have been. He did not know what to say, abruptly snatched from their dark fantasy world. He felt a weird pang of pain in his chest. “I’m the company,” he finally said in a quiet voice.

“Hm? Whose company?” James asked, caressing his back in a lazy manner.

“I’m Jewish,” Ira muttered flatly. An unpleasant heat crept up his chest.

“Wh... what?” James pushed his back onto the wall as if trying to escape. “You couldn’t be!”

Ira squeezed his fists shut, feeling a flash of anger move through him. “I am. You just sucked a Jewish cock!” he spat, abruptly pushing him away. “How the fuck didin’t ya notice?!”

James winced and Ira heard some shuffling about, as the other man seemed to be putting his clothes in order. “I— if this is some kind of sick joke...! It’s not exactly written on your forehead!” said James, clearly angry.

Ira opened and closed his mouth, speechless. “I’m fuckin’ circumsized...,” he finally said.

“So...? My brother is...,” he muttered.

Ira shook his head slowly. He couldn’t understand it at all. “Why would he be? You’re..., “ he trailed off, completely at loss.

“It’s done to a lot of upper class boys,” James swallowed. “So they do not pleasure themselves. In private,” he whispered the last words.

Ira grunted, massaging the base of his nose with two fingers. He felt sickened by this situation.

“But it doesn’t work for Jews, now does it?” James laughed nervously.

Ira cradled his own face in his hands in frustration. He didn’t know whether he should laugh or scream at him. “You lil’ shit!” he finally said, shaking his head with a bitter cackle. “Fuck you!”

James went absolutely silent, and all Ira could hear now was his loud, nervous breathing. Instead of being intimate, the storage room started to feel stuffy. For some reason, this silence triggered a sudden fury in Ira who blindly grabbed at James’ arms, pushing him against the wall. His hand gripped the other man’s hair, pushing his face into the cold surface.

“Ow! Don’t!” James held back a scream, trying to grab his arm in panic.

“Why? Don’t wan' it anymore?!” Ira growled, holding him in a bruising grip.

“No! I— I don’t know...! I do—but...” his words didn’t make any sense.

Ira laughed, bumping his forehead on the back of his neck. “Get lost,” he breathed, quickly adjusting his trousers. Without paying James any more attention, he left the room.

There was no sound from the backdoors and James did not run after him. The silence was almost eerie, with a zombie cage to the side of the technical room. Even the undead man was quiet, as he had a muzzle over his mouth.

“What the fuck are ya lookin’ at?!” hissed Ira, storming through the corridor. He couldn’t believe this sweet boy turned out to be such a bigot! If only he didn’t suck cock so well...

The moment he stepped out into the main corridor, he heard professor Fairfax calling him by his last name. “Russell! We’re looking for one of the visitors from the Parliament,” he said nervously. “We need to be heading for another part of the university now. He said he became nauseous in the morgue and had to leave, but now he is nowhere to be found. Have you seen him? Young chap, long hair.”

Now, Ira himself felt nauseated. “Nah, professor. I ‘aven’t,” he lied and as soon as the man shifted his attention, proceeded down the corridor with increasing nervousness.

Great. He just fucked an important politician.

*