reviews_and_ramblings | Excerpt Day: Affair in Paradise by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Affair in Paradise by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Release Date: Mar 28, 2009
Publisher: Torquere Press
Publisher Link: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1873

Blurb: During a tropical vacation, Adam meets Brett, who's young, hot, and newly single. Adam spends his days flirting and his nights sweating, but Brett isn't responding. Only on their last night together does Brett reveal that he's been waiting for his new master to make the right move. Brett's a sub looking for a strong dom, and while Adam's never been into domination, he discovers its appeal in Brett. But by the end of the night it's Brett who's learned something about the freedom of expression.

Excerpt:

“Is that your friend, throwing up on that bush?”

Surprised, Adam turned away from the bar, looking in the direction that Brett had pointed. Oh, shit, “Stacy!” Abandoning his drink, he hurried across the club, skirting the dance floor to where Stacy stood huddled over a potted plant. Putting a hand on her back where she’d sweated through her thin little shirt, he waited a moment to make sure that she’d finished. “Are you all right?” Clearly, she wasn’t, but he didn’t have a better opening line.

“Ugh, Adam.” Slowly straightening, she wiped her mouth with a napkin, turning dazed, slow eyes on him. Her expression was baffled yet disgusted. “I am so wasted right now.”

He’d noticed. So had Brett. While he appreciated Brett’s warning, he wished that Stacy had waited to throw up for a few minutes, so he and Brett could’ve gotten past the exchanging of first names. They were only two days into their vacation, but Adam had dozens of questions. Like, where was Brett from, and why had he come on this tour, and was he single, and how did he get his light, crystal blue eyes to sparkle like that, and would he rather suck Adam’s dick quick and rough or soft and slow?

Stacy, however, always followed her own timetable. Curling an arm around her waist, Adam supported her weight. “I’ll take you back to the room. I think that it’s time to get out of here.”

“Oh, god, yes.” Moaning, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, leaning against him. “I just want to lay down somewhere. Ugh, why is everything spinning?”

“It’ll hold still once we get you to bed.” As he guided her toward the door of the hotel club, which their tour guide had ever so helpfully recommended that they visit in their spare time that evening, Adam glanced across the room toward Brett.

Watching their progress, Brett noticed his glance and gave him a concerned, inquisitive look, making a slow start up, a silent offer of help. Adept at dealing with Stacy when she was drunk, Adam tried for a reassuring expression. Nodding, Brett sat back down, giving him a little quirked half-smile. That smile was so cute, Adam might have walked right back over to him, even dragging Stacy along, if Stacy hadn’t mis-stepped just then and almost fallen, doing her best to take him down with her. Keeping his balance and dragging her upright, Adam was too embarrassed by the clumsy moment to meet Brett’s eyes again, so he powered on forward, leaving the club and heading for the elevator to get Stacy to their room.

Once she was tucked in bed, snoozing merrily as usual after two drinks, Adam drank some water and stretched out on the other bed in his boxer-briefs. Closing his eyes, listening to make sure that Stacy’s breathing was normal and regular, he wished for air conditioning. A fan. A cool breeze. Anything to circulate the hot, stifling air. Taking a trip in the middle of August to sun-drenched tropical islands hadn’t been his idea. But here he was, sweltering, sunburned, hoping that no local wildlife crawled out from under his bed or into his suitcase, praying that the native plants he’d brushed against earlier wouldn’t give him quite as horrible a rash as the tour guide had warned.

He wondered if Brett were still in the club. Still sitting at the bar, sipping from that half-filled glass, condensation making his fingertips wet. Those cool, wet fingertips would be welcome on Adam’s body, trailing slowly down his abdomen, slipping across the waistband of his drawers, caressing the rising, aching bulge of his stiffening dick. One look from those thick-lashed, crystal blue eyes and Adam would stop breathing, just moan and taste Brett’s drink on those soft, succulent lips. He’d nibble, just a little, and Brett would moan, Brett’s mouth gratefully accepting his tongue while Brett’s hand fondled - - stroked - - squeezed his dick, making him groan, making his legs shake, making him-