Business or Pleasure by Black Douglas

Author:Black, Douglas [Black, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: contemporary gay erotica
Publisher: Silver Publishing
Published: 2013-04-19T22:00:00+00:00

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Clark was quiet on the journey up into the mountains, speaking only to give directions. There was no noticeable tension between them and Jack didn't try to start a conversation; he supposed Clark might be feeling as nervous as he was about the risks of trashing the very nice, very new, very fast Audi on the ever-ascending mountain roads.

As they closed in on their destination, the drops were knuckle-whitening and the hairpin bends pelvis-shattering. Lorries and vans laden with lemons and olives hurtled down the mountain at speeds Jack had always thought were the preserve of racing drivers. His heart was in his mouth but he couldn't deny it was exciting. If Clark felt the same he didn't show it, but he didn't look panicked either. He sat with his legs dropped open, forcing the denim of his jeans to pull tight across his crotch and looked out the window, never jumping to find an imaginary brake pedal on the few occasions Jack swerved to avoid a runaway lorry and nearly ploughed them off the edge of a cliff in the attempt. Jack had a suspicion Clark was looking at him though—just sometimes. He felt his skin tingle as though someone were walking over his grave. If Clark was sneaking glances at him, he was too quick for Jack. Any time Jack dared take his eyes off the road long enough to catch him in the act Clark's eyes were firmly fixed on the road ahead.

The time Paulo had taken going over every minute detail of the gardens meant most of the afternoon heat had gone when they reached the village. Jack parked the car where Clark suggested and killed the engine. Looking around him, listening to his own heartbeat return to normal, he couldn't help feeling that he had stepped into a different world.

They sat on the edge of a little, white-washed village that looked as if it had been indelicately placed atop the dusty peak. The collection of houses and work places climbed ever higher up the mountain, overlooked from the top by a small, blue-roofed church and hemmed in on all sides by the farms that provided the village with its livelihood.

Jack got slowly from the car and turned in a full circle, drinking in as much detail as he could. The village looked like it had dropped straight out of the Andalusian fantasies Jack had been entertaining since he found out his haphazard response to Clark's advertisement had been accepted. Before the nerves had kicked in and his usually very sober sense of propriety had a chance to tell him he was probably making a mistake, Jack had allowed himself more than a few daydreams about Spanish markets, jugs of sangria, long, drunken tapas lunches and tanned, Spanish Adonis's sunbathing on the beach. As much as he had enjoyed the entertainments of the previous night, the winding dirt roads had transported him to the Spain of his fantasies. He turned and looked at Clark and couldn't keep the smile off his face.

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