The year is 1883. Eduard van De Lier is a Dutchman overseeing a spice plantation on the island of Java, in the South Pacific. His obsessive attraction to dark-skinned men is just one of his many secrets. His wife Marien knows of his indiscretions, but as she's content with their Colonial lifestyle, she stays silent.
Until a former lover of Eduard's shows up in their parlor with thoughts of blackmail.
Reza was a crewman on the ship that brought the van De Liers to Java. During the passage, Eduard spent many a night in the younger man's arms. Two years have passed, and the last person Eduard expects to find in his drawing room is Reza, a letter in hand that could destroy the life he and Marien lead.
Seeing him again ignites Eduard's lust for his first dark lover. He hopes to retrieve the letter, either through seduction or subterfuge, and the longer Reza eludes him, the more his desire grows. But they're on shaky ground, and before things can heat up between them, their world explodes -- literally -- when the unstable island of Krakatoa erupts.
|Publisher:||JMS Books LLC|
|Sold by:||Barnes & Noble|
|File size:||521 KB|
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For one breathless moment, Eduard dared to hope the man would ease aside the fabric, allowing him a glimpse of the thick cock Eduard imagined hidden beneath. Though he doubted he'd know the man by his assets alone, he'd gladly fall to his knees before him, move the rest of the material out of the way, and take whatever length the stranger offered into his mouth. His interrupted libido stirred to life again, and adrenaline shot through his veins like a heady drug. He was addicted to men, and since settling in Java, native skin had become his obsession.
"This room is so open," he said, his gaze never leaving that hand in the pocket or the front of the stranger's pale pants. "Perhaps we could retire to my chambers..."
But the man only extracted a bit of parchment, nothing else, and Eduard felt his disappointment catch in the back of his throat as he watched the stranger unfold the paper. Amid the folds, he saw a seal he thought he recognized, and his heart stopped. "No," he whispered. It couldn't be.
Unconsciously he drifted nearer, drawn by the page in the stranger's large hands. When it was completely unfolded, the man held it up for Eduard to read, the paper stretched open in front of him. The flowing script was familiar, and if Eduard closed his eyes, he knew he could probably recite without hesitation the words written in fading ink. It was a letter he'd last seen during the sea voyage that brought him and Marien to this part of the world.
A letter he'd thought destroyed.
He had read it, and reread it, hope rising within him at the implications, the opportunity presented, and then he'd copied it, meticulous, angling his handwriting to mirror that of theoriginal letter writer. He could vividly recall the candlelight flickering low across the wooden desk where he sat, hunched over two pieces of parchment. The sway of the ship beneath him, which made his hand unsteady and his progress slow. The rustle of sheets on the bed behind him, and a low voice that still managed to startle him, coming as it did from such a young, slim man. "Are you not finished yet? I'm bored..."
The voice resonated through Eduard's memory, attaching itself to a name. With difficulty, he raised his gaze from the paper to look at that face again--the haughty facial structure, the fleshy lips, the deep-set eyes. Barely two years had passed, strengthening the features, and the once-idolizing eyes were now harsh, calculating. Softly, Eduard murmured, "Reza?"
Now he remembered, and with that recollection came memories of the past--those dark hands like shadows cast upon Eduard's body, that mouth clamped tight around tender flesh. Reza had been part of the crew on the ship that had brought Eduard around the Cape of Good Hope to the South Pacific islands. Barely a man, his slender body had excited Eduard, who'd never seen such dark skin before. His love affair with Java's native sons had started with the man before him, in whose flesh Eduard had lost himself for several weeks, months even, during the crossing. Reza had been young, naive, and easy to seduce; whenever his shifts were over, he'd obediently appeared at the door to Eduard's cabin, sweat and grime still clinging to his frame. They'd shared a bed during the entire length of the journey, and coupled nightly as Marien slept in an adjoining room.
The stranger's smile spread wider, displaying even, white teeth that gleamed like washed bones. "So you do remember."
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