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ari_readss 's review for:
The Soldier's Scoundrel
by Cat Sebastian
°˖✧✿✧˖° the soldier's scoundrel by cat sebastian °˖✧✿✧˖°
rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
he was in a fair way to losing his heart to oliver rivington and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
﹒⟢﹒tropes﹒⟢﹒
⟢ class difference
⟢ morally grey hero
⟢ historical fiction
⟢ pinning
⟢ forbidden romance
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
jack turner, a street-smart scoundrel who earns a living by solving problems for the ladies of society, and oliver rivington, an honorable, former soldier determined to find out why jack is meddling in his sister’s affairs. what begins as an investigation turns into an irresistible slow-burn romance, strong sexual tension that leaves you excited as both men find themselves entangled not only in jack’s schemes but in each other’s lives.
jack turner is cynical and sharp-witted, with a past that makes him wary of trusting anyone, especially someone like oliver, who represents everything he despises. oliver, on the other hand, is a gentleman through and through when he meets jack.
jack, despite everything, his hard and untrusting exterior breaks easily whenever he is with oliver. he wants to break that aristocratic and polished exterior oliver wears like second skin. but he didn't know that he would be the one getting undone.
the class difference plays a huge role in the dynamic between the two. it's the main reason jack doesn't want oliver to associate with him. he knows they live in two different worlds and does not want oliver to be treated like dirt. oliver, on the other hand, is ready to leave it all behind for jack, and the way he goes about it made me giggle and laugh. it was the only way he could make jack understand.
"we’ve already established that you don’t need anything. the honorable captain oliver rivington doesn’t need a bloody thing he can’t get with a couple of coins and a twinkle of his pretty eyes. but maybe i can help anyway.” why the devil was he pushing this? it shouldn’t matter one jot to jack whether or not oliver wanted to limp around on his sore leg or whether he wanted to be carried around like a baby for that matter. oliver’s comfort or lack thereof officially did not matter to jack—not a bit. “just take my fucking arm.”
i loved how jack takes care of oliver. he makes sure his leg is fine even when they are doing it. he is soft with him and already so smitten with him.
it was unsuitable in every way for the earl of rutland’s son to have anything to do with jack turner—criminal, scoundrel and general reprobate. their names being spoken in the same sentence would be enough to tarnish oliver’s name.
jack turner knew he was in deep, deep trouble, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
jack meant that he couldn’t do this—feelings and tenderness and all the other fine things he was never meant to have. he couldn’t have those things with anyone, let alone oliver rivington.
however it had happened, jack now had oliver rivington’s needs and interests mixed up in his own, and he couldn’t see his way out of it.
what was this then? jack found himself totally disarmed in the sense that he didn’t have a single damned defense left against this man.
"god, oliver. i need you to stop asking me to give up my life. i love you too much to keep saying no.
in short, he loved oliver. the good, the bad, the confusing, and the misguided.
all his internal monologue is so funny to read sometimes. he is taking care of oliver with soft, gentle hands while thinking about how he cannot fall any more than he already has for oliver. every time this man thought, ah, i will not do anything for oliver now, i will disappear from his life, but he returned every time. my man was down bad.
jack groaned, trying to remember why it was so important that he not lose the upper hand and that he not let this man take any more than jack was willing to give, which was not much at all—a tumble, a fuck, maybe a little flirtation. no more.
the time when jack makes sure oliver does not get any prospects of marriage made me laugh. their push and pull made me taste the tension.
jack felt momentarily triumphant, having won this battle he didn’t want to win in the first place. likely, the amount of discomfort he was relieving was too small for the other man to even notice. but the heavy weight on jack’s arm felt like it belonged there, as if he had been waiting years for the chance to help the son of an earl across a few yards of muddy ground. he was hit with a wave of confusion and self-reproach, and it was all he could do not to push rivington away, abandoning him in the middle of the inn yard.
and oliver, my sad boy, i love you. he just wants to live a normal life and finally gets to live it with oliver.
"that’s not it at all, blast it. i care for you, you stubborn jackass. i did wrong by you, and i want to make it right. and if it’s amenable to you, i’d like to go back to being friends.”
"you needed it spelled out, so what else could i do? no matter how often i told you that i want you more than decency or honor or rules, it still wouldn’t get through your thick skull. so i decided to show you.”
i just loved how he always made things right with jack—apologizing, seeking him out, even ruining his name to live with jack. uh, i just loved these two so much. i can probably ramble about them for so long if i keep going.
i made like 67 highlights in the book while reading, and i have whole paragraphs highlighted, and that is a feat.
too long, didn’t read: this novel is a must-read if you like or don’t like historical mm romance with heaps of sexual tension, emotional depth, push and pull, banter, and a satisfying happy-ever-after.
some of my most favorite quotes (i have too many):
every time? every time? what could rivington possibly be thinking? jack ought to get away, say something cutting, something true and ruthless about how there wasn’t going to even be another time, let alone a sequence of events that could be described as every time. but instead, when rivington leaned in, jack let himself be kissed.
and jack had half a mind to simply let everything else unfold however rivington wanted. kissing on the road, falling stupidly in love, why the hell not?
rivington tipped jack’s chin back and kissed him, and jack just let it happen as if he weren’t watching his peace of mind and dignity slip farther away. every sweep of rivington’s tongue, every caress, and every sigh loosened jack’s resolve.
hell, he ought to go back to london. alone. he had no business feeling warm and safe in such proximity to a nobleman. this was like losing a hand of cards in a game where he had bet too much. but jack didn’t gamble, and he didn’t like the sick feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach. but still, he let rivington kiss him. he let the sensations sweep over him as if this wouldn’t be the unmaking of him.
"naturally. i never assumed you had made some kind of grand tour of cocksucking and buggery. but still, four continents? and you paid? a man who looks like you?” he glanced over again, and even in the fading sunlight, he could see oliver blush. "you gentlemen have no sense of what money is worth. it’s madness to pay for something that many men would willingly do for free.”
"if i’d have known it was to be like that, i’d have bent you over my desk the first time i saw you. how the hell am i supposed to get anything done now that i know?”
"it’s not time to wake yet." which was a stupid thing to say, since hadn’t he just decided that oliver belonged back in his own bed? but the fact was that jack wanted a few more minutes to appreciate the man’s frankly excessive beauty without having to hide his admiration behind a veil of grumpiness or displeasure. stupid. stupid.
rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
he was in a fair way to losing his heart to oliver rivington and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
﹒⟢﹒tropes﹒⟢﹒
⟢ class difference
⟢ morally grey hero
⟢ historical fiction
⟢ pinning
⟢ forbidden romance
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
jack turner, a street-smart scoundrel who earns a living by solving problems for the ladies of society, and oliver rivington, an honorable, former soldier determined to find out why jack is meddling in his sister’s affairs. what begins as an investigation turns into an irresistible slow-burn romance, strong sexual tension that leaves you excited as both men find themselves entangled not only in jack’s schemes but in each other’s lives.
jack turner is cynical and sharp-witted, with a past that makes him wary of trusting anyone, especially someone like oliver, who represents everything he despises. oliver, on the other hand, is a gentleman through and through when he meets jack.
jack, despite everything, his hard and untrusting exterior breaks easily whenever he is with oliver. he wants to break that aristocratic and polished exterior oliver wears like second skin. but he didn't know that he would be the one getting undone.
the class difference plays a huge role in the dynamic between the two. it's the main reason jack doesn't want oliver to associate with him. he knows they live in two different worlds and does not want oliver to be treated like dirt. oliver, on the other hand, is ready to leave it all behind for jack, and the way he goes about it made me giggle and laugh. it was the only way he could make jack understand.
"we’ve already established that you don’t need anything. the honorable captain oliver rivington doesn’t need a bloody thing he can’t get with a couple of coins and a twinkle of his pretty eyes. but maybe i can help anyway.” why the devil was he pushing this? it shouldn’t matter one jot to jack whether or not oliver wanted to limp around on his sore leg or whether he wanted to be carried around like a baby for that matter. oliver’s comfort or lack thereof officially did not matter to jack—not a bit. “just take my fucking arm.”
i loved how jack takes care of oliver. he makes sure his leg is fine even when they are doing it. he is soft with him and already so smitten with him.
it was unsuitable in every way for the earl of rutland’s son to have anything to do with jack turner—criminal, scoundrel and general reprobate. their names being spoken in the same sentence would be enough to tarnish oliver’s name.
jack turner knew he was in deep, deep trouble, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
jack meant that he couldn’t do this—feelings and tenderness and all the other fine things he was never meant to have. he couldn’t have those things with anyone, let alone oliver rivington.
however it had happened, jack now had oliver rivington’s needs and interests mixed up in his own, and he couldn’t see his way out of it.
what was this then? jack found himself totally disarmed in the sense that he didn’t have a single damned defense left against this man.
"god, oliver. i need you to stop asking me to give up my life. i love you too much to keep saying no.
in short, he loved oliver. the good, the bad, the confusing, and the misguided.
all his internal monologue is so funny to read sometimes. he is taking care of oliver with soft, gentle hands while thinking about how he cannot fall any more than he already has for oliver. every time this man thought, ah, i will not do anything for oliver now, i will disappear from his life, but he returned every time. my man was down bad.
jack groaned, trying to remember why it was so important that he not lose the upper hand and that he not let this man take any more than jack was willing to give, which was not much at all—a tumble, a fuck, maybe a little flirtation. no more.
the time when jack makes sure oliver does not get any prospects of marriage made me laugh. their push and pull made me taste the tension.
jack felt momentarily triumphant, having won this battle he didn’t want to win in the first place. likely, the amount of discomfort he was relieving was too small for the other man to even notice. but the heavy weight on jack’s arm felt like it belonged there, as if he had been waiting years for the chance to help the son of an earl across a few yards of muddy ground. he was hit with a wave of confusion and self-reproach, and it was all he could do not to push rivington away, abandoning him in the middle of the inn yard.
and oliver, my sad boy, i love you. he just wants to live a normal life and finally gets to live it with oliver.
"that’s not it at all, blast it. i care for you, you stubborn jackass. i did wrong by you, and i want to make it right. and if it’s amenable to you, i’d like to go back to being friends.”
"you needed it spelled out, so what else could i do? no matter how often i told you that i want you more than decency or honor or rules, it still wouldn’t get through your thick skull. so i decided to show you.”
i just loved how he always made things right with jack—apologizing, seeking him out, even ruining his name to live with jack. uh, i just loved these two so much. i can probably ramble about them for so long if i keep going.
i made like 67 highlights in the book while reading, and i have whole paragraphs highlighted, and that is a feat.
too long, didn’t read: this novel is a must-read if you like or don’t like historical mm romance with heaps of sexual tension, emotional depth, push and pull, banter, and a satisfying happy-ever-after.
some of my most favorite quotes (i have too many):
Spoiler
"you’re mine," jack repeated, dusting kisses along oliver’s jaw. "i’ve tried being without you, and it’s not any good, oliver."every time? every time? what could rivington possibly be thinking? jack ought to get away, say something cutting, something true and ruthless about how there wasn’t going to even be another time, let alone a sequence of events that could be described as every time. but instead, when rivington leaned in, jack let himself be kissed.
and jack had half a mind to simply let everything else unfold however rivington wanted. kissing on the road, falling stupidly in love, why the hell not?
rivington tipped jack’s chin back and kissed him, and jack just let it happen as if he weren’t watching his peace of mind and dignity slip farther away. every sweep of rivington’s tongue, every caress, and every sigh loosened jack’s resolve.
hell, he ought to go back to london. alone. he had no business feeling warm and safe in such proximity to a nobleman. this was like losing a hand of cards in a game where he had bet too much. but jack didn’t gamble, and he didn’t like the sick feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach. but still, he let rivington kiss him. he let the sensations sweep over him as if this wouldn’t be the unmaking of him.
"naturally. i never assumed you had made some kind of grand tour of cocksucking and buggery. but still, four continents? and you paid? a man who looks like you?” he glanced over again, and even in the fading sunlight, he could see oliver blush. "you gentlemen have no sense of what money is worth. it’s madness to pay for something that many men would willingly do for free.”
"if i’d have known it was to be like that, i’d have bent you over my desk the first time i saw you. how the hell am i supposed to get anything done now that i know?”
"it’s not time to wake yet." which was a stupid thing to say, since hadn’t he just decided that oliver belonged back in his own bed? but the fact was that jack wanted a few more minutes to appreciate the man’s frankly excessive beauty without having to hide his admiration behind a veil of grumpiness or displeasure. stupid. stupid.