Table Of ContentSINS OF AFFECTION
…The next few days passed in a fog of pain and drugs. Lucas was
vaguely aware of Carver and David coming in and out, applying fresh
ice packs or forcing soup down his throat, but beyond that, he slept,
unaware of the passing time.
When he came to at last, it was morning three days later, according
to his smartphone, and his bladder was screaming for relief.
He forced himself out of bed on weak legs and staggered into the
adjoining bathroom. He didn’t bother to try standing to relieve
himself, sinking down on the toilet to do his business. When he
finished, he staggered over to the sink to examine the damage.
It must have been a lot worse. The bruises were already shifting to
a sickly greenish-yellow and thick, blackened scabs now protected the
abrasions. He flexed his arm gingerly. He still had basic mobility,
unless he overextended it. No bondage clients for the next few weeks
until he got in a little physical therapy.
“Fuck, David!”
Lucas hadn’t paid attention to the sliding door on the other side of
the bathroom, presuming it to be a closet of some kind. He was
noticing it now.
A hard slap sang through the room on the other side. “Not the right
thing to say, Carver.” David’s voice was low and insistent, but Lucas
could hear the need in it as well.
“Fuck me, David! Christ, just do it!” Carver didn’t bother to keep
his voice down, although it was muffled, as though his cheek were
pressed against a pillow.
“Much better.”
Lucas smiled as he edged closer to the partition, grateful that the
simple act no longer hurt like hell. His cock stirred to full attention
with the next resounding slap from the other room…
ALSO BY INDIA HARPER
Sins of Arrogance
Sins of Omission
SINS OF AFFECTION
BY
INDIA HARPER
AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
SINS OF AFFECTION
AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK
This book is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,
or events is entirely coincidental.
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or
reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in
writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief
excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2010 by India Harper
ISBN 978-1-60272-729-8
Cover Art © 2010 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
SINS OF AFFECTION
CHAPTER 1
“Christ, that feels good!”
Lucas McAndrews bit back the smart answer that came too
quickly to his lips. Another man, another night, and that might be
exactly what was called for. Instead, he yanked on his partner’s
hair and drove the man up against the tile wall in the bathroom
stall in a very high-end Pittsburgh restaurant. “You like that? You
want it harder?”
“Fuck, yeah!”
Lucas gave the man what he wanted, slamming into his
partner’s ass almost to the hilt. Not a lot of Lucas’ clients could
take his full length, which usually didn’t matter, as most times he
was the one bottoming. But this guy had a kink for public places
and the risk of discovery. His wife and her parents were out in the
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dining room right now, waiting for him to come back from a
business call to join them for dessert. Little did they know he’d
already gotten his.
“Oh, God…oh, shit…fuck, yeah!”
With that cogent statement, the man came hard, shooting his
wad on the expensive tiles and nearly forcing Lucas out of him
with the strength of his contractions. When the man relaxed at last,
Lucas withdrew the rest of the way, sliding off the condom to drop
it in the toilet and flush away the evidence.
Lucas leaned against the wall. “So, how was that?”
His client laughed, still breathless, turning around to mimic
Lucas’ position as he tugged up his slacks. “As good as you
promised. God, I’m relaxed now.”
“I wouldn’t get too relaxed. Your family’s still out there.”
He snorted. “Too bad Walter didn’t come back here. Fuck, that
would’ve been hot if he’d started knocking on the door.”
“Mm.” The customer was never wrong. Lucas skated his hand
down his client’s chest to slip his cock back into his pants for him
and zip up his fly. “But not so much now. You’d better get back
there.”
The man adjusted his shirt and ran his hands through his hair
before stealing one last illicit kiss from Lucas. He tasted of
expensive Scotch and average cigars. “We’ll have to do this again
when we have more time.”
That was what Lucas was counting on. These quick encounters
never scored him much beyond the set price for the requested
activities. It was the longer sessions in a hotel room or a quiet
retreat away from prying eyes where he earned the larger fees,
often accompanied by a fat tip. The quickies served as a sort of
interview more than anything else, so Lucas made a policy not to
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turn them down.
“I’d like that.” He made it sound as promising as he could.
“You’ve got my number.” Even if Lucas hadn’t bothered to
remember his name.
The client seemed to be forgetting about him as well, fixing his
tie as he strolled out of the stall without a goodbye and back to
dinner, humming to himself in satisfaction.
If Lucas didn’t already have five hundred dollars in his pocket,
he might have been offended.
Washing his hands, he did a quick double check in the mirror
to make sure he was presentable. His black hair still lay neatly in
place, the benefit of not having face-to-face contact with his mark.
He still wasn’t sold on growing it out. It had been much easier to
maintain short and spiky rather than the loose, natural waves his
hair had, but several of his regulars were pleased with the change.
They probably preferred to have something substantial to hold
onto.
The T-shirt under his navy blazer hadn’t gotten wrinkled, and
his flat front pants showed no sign of his recent activity despite
being black. In other words, he looked perfect. Blowing himself a
kiss, he headed out.
“I thought you were off tonight,” Danny Marks said when
Lucas returned to the table. The kid didn’t sound too put out. It
wasn’t the first time Lucas had done this since taking Danny under
his wing a few months ago, so to speak, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Lucas smiled. “Never turn down a prime opportunity.”
Danny smirked. “Another tried and true McAndrews rule?”
“Very, very tried and undeniably true.” Dropping his napkin on
his lap, Lucas started in on his salad. “Now we can celebrate your
twenty-five years in style.”
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“We were already doing that.” Danny followed suit and the fell
into comfortable silence while they ate, until Danny asked, “How
much did you make?”
Lucas grinned. “Trying to figure out if you should raise your
prices?”
“Gauging the market.”
“Well, you should charge more. You’re handsome enough and
talented enough. If you raised your prices, you wouldn’t be stuck
so often with the guilt-and-shame crowd.”
“Yeah, but the guilt-and-shame crowd comes with an extra
bonus money can’t buy.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Moral superiority.”
“I still haven’t figured out if you picked that up as an altar boy
or are just that perverse.”
“A little of both.” He took a sip of his wine. “Though I will
say, if you can land an Evangelical…prime.”
“The few encounters I’ve had with religious types haven’t been
all that satisfactory. I prefer the guys who actually get into it.”
“We all know you’re in this business for the sex, Lucas.”
“Which is why I get paid so well for it.”
The waitress arrived with their main course, bringing their
conversation to a halt. They finished their meal with talk of
everything but business, at Danny’s request.
“It’s my birthday, Lucas. You owe me that much.”
They emerged from the restaurant a little after eight. Way too
early to hit the clubs.
“There’s that new place that opened three blocks from here,
specializing in those girlie drinks you love so much,” Lucas
suggested.
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“Cocktails aren’t girlie drinks. I might not be a beer snob like
you, but I—” Danny’s words cut off with the sickening thud of a
blunt object impacting flesh.
His handsome face distorted in pain and surprise, Danny sank
to his knees to reveal his attackers, three heavyset younger men,
one of them carrying a big Mag-light that he was already raising to
swing like a club at Lucas.
Instinctively, Lucas folded over the hood of Danny’s car,
covering his head. When the flashlight smashed against the metal
hood, Lucas took a chance and grabbed for it, twisting to knee his
assailant in the groin.
He caught the man in the gut instead, not as effective, but it got
the man off him regardless.
“I guess they don’t roll over and take it after all,” the furthest
one back said. “More fun for us.”
The third thug lunged at him, and Lucas clipped him in the
head with the flashlight, which left him open to the now recovered
first attacker to take him down.
They hit the pavement, knocking the breath out of Lucas as he
struggled to fight back against the larger man now pinning him to
the ground. The attack had cost Lucas the element of surprise and
the advantage of leverage. The man grinned, trapping the flashlight
against the asphalt before punching Lucas’ face. Lucas tried to turn
his head away, but the angle was too close to avoid the rain of
blows that showered down on him. He heard Danny somewhere
not far away crying for help, his calls lost in the sound of flesh on
flesh and wordless, raucous laughter.
Lucas began to think he wasn’t going to make it out of this one
alive when he heard sirens in the distance.
Their attackers froze, and Lucas heard Danny’s limp body drop
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