Slaves to Love - One by J.P. Bowie

Slaves to Love - One by J.P. Bowie

Author:J.P. Bowie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: MLR Press LLC
Published: 2011-08-26T04:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER SEVEN

Still exhausted from lack of sleep, and decidedly bleary-eyed, I made my way to my first class of the day. I was short tempered, and my students inattentive. Not an auspicious start to the day. Gracus was not at all pleased to hear my request that I be allowed two hours off, for reasons I could not divulge, but he reluctantly agreed, after I promised I would work one extra day that week.

I could tell he was quite impressed when a litter and four stalwart men sent by Lentullus arrived at the school gates. My students crowded around, curiosity written all over their young faces as I climbed inside, and was carried off to the ludo.

Lentullus was there to meet me, and words cannot fully describe the apprehension I felt as I accompanied him through the gates of his domain. I felt sick to my stomach, my heart was fluttering madly in my chest, and my head seemed to want to lift itself off my shoulders. In other words, I was scared to death.

“So, young Lucius…” It seemed Lentullus could not keep the trace of a sneer off his thick lips. “Your hero awaits your words of wisdom. I suppose, in a way, the people’s entertainment rests with you.”

He wasted no time in summoning the guards who would bring Callistus to the room where I would meet him. He left me alone there in the barely furnished space that seemed to serve as both a storage room and a small cell. When the door abruptly swung open on creaking hinges, I almost jumped out of my skin. Then, there he was, framed in the doorway, so tall that he had to bow his head slightly to enter.

For what seemed an eternity after the door had been slammed shut behind him, we simply stood looking at one another, not moving, not speaking. My breath caught in my chest as I took in the magnificent sight before me. They had obviously allowed him to bathe, and wear a change of clothing. His hair shone in the sunlight that filtered through the grimy window behind me, falling about his wide shoulders in golden waves. I wanted to reach out and touch it, and my hand actually left my side as though it had a life of its own. Catching myself in time, I pulled it back, and clenched my fist.

There is a heat that starts in the pit of a man’s stomach and spreads through his loins seemingly of its own accord. It is called desire, and staring at Callistus, taking in the total splendor of his masculine beauty, I felt that heat. It seeped into my blood, causing my heart to hammer in my chest so loudly I could swear he could hear it as clearly as I.

Dear Juno, Mistress of all the gods. I sent up a silent prayer to her. Please stop this body of mine from trembling and disclosing just how much his mere presence affects my senses.

“Are



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