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Jacob and Pearl are both flushed when Ned climbs into the carriage, but Ned does his best to politely ignore that, figuring their business is already taken care of.
Except that he's barely gotten settled in his seat when Pearl pushes a full glass of champagne into his hands. "Just in time," she says. She smiles in her coy, dangerous way. "Mr. Frye and I were just proposing a toast to our new partnership."
Ned has never quite gotten over the feeling that Pearl is going poison his drink one day, but he has a good intuition that she's after something else today. He takes the champagne. "That so? What's the occasion?"
"Millner is about to lose some very valuable cargo," Jacob says, smirking. "He's sending it by train…"
"Which naturally," Pearl adds, "makes you an ideal candidate to assist."
Jacob leans forward. "I thought of you, Wynert." He seems proud of the fact, like he expects praise for remembering any detail at all. Ned finds that uncomfortably endearing from a man who probably, on average, kills ten people before breakfast. "You have a train, don't you?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." Ned leans back, sipping at the bubbles. The carriage trundles on, and Ned wonders where they're going. They might be in a circuit of the city, for all he can tell, a clandestine business meeting turned into a luxurious afternoon drive.
"Will you lend us your skills?" Pearl asks.
"What's the pay like?"
Pearl chuckles. "So economical, as always. You'll have your fair share, Mr. Wynert." She leans over, pressing his hand and his champagne glass out of the way so that she can kiss him with the brief and businesslike affection she often uses to seal their deals. Ned doesn't bother protesting that he hasn't agreed yet. He likes Pearl and, God help him, he likes Jacob.
Speaking of Jacob — Jacob is staring hungrily at Pearl when she draws away from kissing Ned, and Pearl gives the boy an inviting smile. Ned sinks back into the corner of the carriage, sighing. "Don't let me interrupt your fun."
"Interrupting implies that you'd somehow spoil it," Pearl says.
And true enough, neither of them much seems to mind his being there. Ned has a second glass of champagne and watches with faint amazement as Pearl hikes up her skirts, beckoning Jacob in between her elegant legs. Jacob kneels there, almost too bulky to fit in the space between the seats but folding himself down. He's painfully handsome, with that mixture of soft eagerness and curiosity and confidence lighting up his face when Pearl strokes his cheek, her nails skimming through his stubble. Ned drags his eyes away, not wanting to get caught staring. Not wanting to stare as much as he does.
It's hard to pay attention to much else when Jacob starts going down on Pearl.
Ned can tell he's had practice — probably enough to border on training — because Pearl's particular about what she likes, and from her gasps of appreciation and breathless laughter he can tell that she's genuinely pleased. Ned watches the bubbles swirling around in his champagne, raising his eyebrows when Jacob moans loudly, the sound muffled by — well.
Christ, it's warm in here. Much as he tries not to pay attention, he can't not heat up when he's listening to them, the rustle of Pearl's skirts and the slick noises of Jacob's mouth.
Pearl has her own plans, and apparently they don't involve Ned sitting off to the side, because after a few minutes of this she reaches over and coaxes a finger into the collar of his shirt, tugging him over to her side more by suggestion than force. Ned goes, trying not to look at Jacob. Which is easier than it might be, because Pearl looks stunning during sex, her eyes even brighter and slyer than usual and her face glowing. She kisses Ned hard, her fingernails raking down the back of his neck, and he shudders and gives up pretending to be disinterested.
He shifts further across the seat until he's pressed against Pearl's side, one of his boots knocking into Jacob's knee accidentally. He still not sure how he feels about what Pearl's doing with Jacob, whether it's right or not in a moral sense that he doesn't even really have a right to be considering. He's got a shred of conscience, a tug in his chest that doesn't want to let him join in on manipulating Jacob when Pearl already has him wrapped around her little finger. Not that he knows why he's feeling so considerate towards Jacob.
But then Jacob reaches up and grabs Ned's thigh, his fingers digging in as if clutching for balance, squeezing bruises into his leg just — inches from where Ned wants, needs to be touched. And Ned nearly swears aloud at how much that idea does it for him, instant and insistent. From a simmer to a boil.
Jacob starts moaning brokenly on every exhale, and Ned finally notices that one of Pearl's pretty little shoes is rubbing at his cock, making him squirm even as he pushes his face between her thighs. And once he's noticed that, Ned finds it hard to stop looking, like Jacob's touch is anchoring his attention. God, Jacob's face is flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. Ned reaches over and draws his thumb along the shell of Jacob's ear, and he swears he can see the shiver race its way all the way through Jacob's body.
Pearl kisses him again to recapture his attention, and Ned grins reluctantly at her. "Pretty quick learner, isn't he?" he asks.
"Oh, Wynert, you have no idea." Pearl's voice drops to a purr. She curls her arm languorously around Ned's shoulders, her eyes heavy-lidded and her mouth pink.
She does something to Jacob's cock and he whines, squeezing Ned's leg painfully tight. Ned sucks in a sharp breath, shaken by how much he wants Jacob's fingers on him—maybe in him, thick enough to burn and stretch him open. He reaches down to take Jacob's hand in a grip that might be reassuring, might be complicit. And then he leans over to pull Pearl's dress away from her shoulder with his teeth, biting on the bare skin hard the way he knows she likes, skating his tongue across the bite marks while they're still red and angry. She thanks him with a harsh pull on his hair, nearly hard enough to bring tears to his eyes, and then her knuckles press into the back of his neck to keep him close.
Champagne sloshes out of his glass and over the back of his hand. Ned pulls away just long enough to drain it before he's back on Pearl. She doesn't tense as she nears orgasm; she relaxes into it, drinking it in greedily like the champagne, sprawling on the seat in limp satisfaction by the time Jacob is done wringing it from her with his tongue.
She laughs, a sweet little sound at odds with the gleam in her eye. "Wonderful," she says. "Come here, Mr. Frye." And she gently pushes Ned back across the seat so that the only space for Jacob to sit is in between them.
In fact, there's barely enough space as it is. Ned doesn't feel exiled to the corner because in the cramped quarters of the carriage, there's no room for Jacob's thigh not to be pushing up against his, and Ned's hard-pressed not to observe how strong and thick Jacob's legs are, and that his cock is still hard between them. Jacob, for his part, looks dazed and practically blissful as he squashes into the seat between them and falls immediately into kissing Pearl, his hands crawling over her lap and fisting in her rumpled skirts.
Ned is almost — almost — grateful to have escaped their attention, but can't deny that his pulse jumps when he hears Pearl whisper, "Let's not neglect Mr. Wynert."
She pushes Jacob into him.
Ned presses himself back against the wall of the carriage, just to give himself enough space to look at Jacob, staring him up and down and feeling pinned by Jacob's curious, wanting eyes. Jacob hesitates, and Ned doesn't know if it's because Ned's a man or because Jacob is nervous or because he doesn't know how Ned will react. Either way, Jacob doesn't move until Pearl presses herself up against his back and murmurs in his ear, "Kiss him."
Jacob leans forward carefully, as if asking for permission, and Ned can't take it anymore. He kisses Jacob first, quick but firm, and that's apparently all the invitation Jacob needs to put his hands on Ned, sliding them under his jacket and reaching down to fondle his thighs apart as he edges between them. He's big, and Ned finds himself holding on to Jacob's shoulders with a feeling like he's slipping underwater as one of Jacob's hands squeezes his ass and drags a gasp out of his throat.
He winds up with one of Jacob's arms wrapped around him, being tugged somehow closer to the other two despite the fact that he swears there's no room left on the seat at all. Jacob keeps kissing him while his free hand roves along Ned's legs, and it's scratching an itch Ned tries not to indulge — the itch to let someone fuck him out of his mind.
Pearl must know. She knows him much better than he'd like. It's with a conspiratorial laugh that she insinuates an arm between them and runs the tips of her fingers along the most sensitive curve of Ned's neck. "Try here," she says, and then Jacob's mouth is on his throat, kissing and then sucking hard, a mix of stimulation and pain that hits Ned right where he needs it. The sound that comes out of his mouth is high, desperate, and far too honest.
"You can be quite rough with him," Pearl adds.
"God damn," Ned groans. He tips his head back against the seat, too far gone to regret it. Jacob chuckles, and Ned feels the vibration in his fucking teeth when Jacob bites him. Fuck. He's letting this reckless, dangerous, violent man bring him close to coming just from stroking his thighs and kissing along his neck, and for the moment he can't even care.
Then the carriage stops.
"Oh dear," Pearl says. "We seem to have arrived."
Jacob pulls away, and Ned feels an unexpected cold in his absence, wanting to reach after him. "Arrived where?" Jacob asks, sounding almost as breathless as Ned feels.
"Somewhere more comfortable," Pearl says, smiling. "You may need to help Mr. Wynert out of the carriage."