Paul shouldn’t be playing with younger men, but Adam is irresistible…
Travelling salesman Paul is in the historic English town of Lincoln for one night only. Approaching forty and feeling sorry for himself over the lack of a special man in his life, he is looking to pick up a spicy little something to take back to his hotel.
In a bar, he’s hit on by twenty-year-old poetry-obsessed student, Adam. The age gap is too great, and Adam is too young and naïve for Paul. They have nothing in common and it shouldn’t work. Paul should know better than to chase a younger man but after a night of wild sex, Adam is too keen, and Paul has limited willpower…
Publisher's Note: This book was previously released by another publisher. It has been revised and re-edited for release with Totally Bound Publishing.
General Release Date: 22nd August 2014
Okay, so Paul was drunk, but seriously, he had to be fifteen years older than every person in this shit hole basement club, with its sticky floors and crap, watered-down beer. God, maybe even twenty. He shivered at the thought, looking around in bemusement at the students and what passed for fashion these days. He glanced at Duncan beside him, his accompanying business colleague on this trip to Lincoln. It had been Duncan’s idea after a few drinks in the hotel bar to stagger past the cathedral and down the sharp gradient into the town centre, looking for more alcohol.
The day had been exhausting—a conference which had seemed to last years, presentations that had been so dull that Paul had got his phone out and started doing his online shopping. There were some great two-for-one offers on at Tesco.
He’d needed a drink badly but was starting to question the wisdom of leaving their hotel. Sure, it might have been nice to cruise the local talent a little, but Paul wasn’t looking for young boys. He sighed, feeling miserable. Out to family and friends but not at work, he lived in a small, closeted little town on the northeast coast of England that hosted not one single gay bar. Paul’s action was limited to his hand most of the time. His last love affair had become a distant memory. If it had been love, of course. Paul wasn’t sure he had ever been in love or if anyone had ever loved him.
Instead of looking for this elusive emotion, he pursued sex instead. He supposed if Duncan hadn’t been here with him, he might have had more chance of getting some company for the evening. If they weren’t in a student bar in Lincoln.
Duncan leaned close to his ear, voice raised above the techno shite which passed for music. “Taking a slash.” He vanished into the throng of scruffy bodies.
Paul thought about hanging himself with his own shoe laces. He felt a gaze on him suddenly and his irritated glance turned to a stare.
A man watched him from the bar, blond-haired with pretty, elfin features and perfect skin. He wore impossibly tight jeans and a white shirt with some sort of glittery scarf. A new romantic thirty years too late. As gay as gay could be.
Paul’s stomach tightened as the man made his way over.
“Buy you a drink?”
Light with a cultured accent, his voice seemed to roll out of him like rich velvet and chocolate. His eyes were a pale blue-grey, his skin virtually translucent. Of average height, he was slender, those sprayed-on jeans clinging to narrow hips.
Despite himself, Paul’s cock stirred. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t make it easy. He curled his lip. “Can you afford it?”
The man smiled, his teeth neat and white, his dark blond hair cropped short to his heart-shaped face. He seemed full of the hope of the young. In twenty years, that would be beaten out of him. “Yes, I’ve got one pound fifty. Vodka mixer is a quid tonight.”
Paul regarded him in amusement. “I wouldn’t want to take your last quid.”
The man shrugged. “I don’t mind. You look like you’d be worth it.” He was persistent if nothing else.
Paul stared. His admirer gave him a cheeky smile.
“How old are you?” Paul asked. “Eighteen?”
The man glowered good-naturedly. “Twenty, actually. Twenty-one in two months.”
Paul shook his head and sighed. “Go away.”
“What?”
“I said, little boy, go away and play with someone your own age. I like real men.”
The man’s eyes bulged. He looked like he’d been slapped. The hopeful expression fell from his flushing face. He turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Scarlet likes cats and hats and firmly believes that the only thing better than one attractive man is two attractive men.
Reviewed by Rainbow Book Reviews
Scarlet Blackwell is particularly good at depicting flawed men who end up having an uphill struggle to redeem themselves. I certainly enjoyed reading about this particular situation. If you like sto...
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