As Le Frai De Demon coasts the ocean waves, Vincent and Julian continue their love affair. Upon arriving at Hellion to trade wares, Julian takes Vincent to a special place where the crack of a whip brings them both pleasure. However, their private time is interrupted when a crew member brings news of a rogue trader causing trouble. The men return to the ship intent on leaving Hellion as soon as possible, but a tragedy is in their midst.
Once at sea again, Le Frai De Demon battles through a storm, but will all the crew survive?
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Excerpt:
Land came into view shrouded by a heat-fuzzy horizon, its looming shadow a blessed relief for Vincent. Sea life pleased him now, though the promise of standing on dry land pleased him more. At the prow, he stared up at the billowing sails. The wind had picked up earlier, and their arrival at the port would come quicker. His black hair jostled about his face, and a hand came from behind and tucked the strands into the rag strip from which they had come loose.
Vincent smiled. “Everyone is busy, then.”
Julian’s torso pressed against his back, and a light kiss landed on his nape.
“Yes. They are looking forward to unloading and spending time ashore, doing what they do in the twenty-four hours of freedom. First stop usually the whorehouse.”
“What is this place called?”
“I only know it as Hellion, my own term. It is hot, the people look upon on us with curiosity, sometimes suspicion, and the man I trade with drives a hard bargain. He makes me uneasy, rules the town, but trade is trade, and he is the only one I can do business with there. I swap cloth for coffee, and in the next place I swap coffee for coin. We then sail home. It is a shorter trip than my last. I did not think you would enjoy two years at sea for your first time.”
Vincent rested his head on Julian’s shoulder. “What will we do in this Hellion?”
His lover’s low laugh rumbled through him.
“There is a place, one I hope you will like. It is secluded, and we can spend some time there—and there is more on offer than the clothing and food in the market.”
“Interesting. Such as?”
Hands roamed his stomach, and Vincent’s smiled widened.
“You will see. Whether or not you agree to participate is another matter.”
Frowning, Vincent asked, “Does it involve sharing you?”
“It could.”
Fingertips snaked inside Vincent’s breeches.
“But—”
“Wait and see before you decide. It is not what you are imagining.”
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