Lust in London PDF
Preview Lust in London
Lust in London By S. L. Danielson ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer. WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000." Cover Artist: T. William Lust in London © 2010 S.L. Danielson ISBN #0797734794625 All rights reserved. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. PUBLISHER DEDICATION For Dustin, my good friend and inspiration for this book. Chapter 1 The weather outside was perfect for the mood Alex was in. Sleet tapped its incessant melody onto the newly patched roof. The windows were fogging up, creating a glowing white vignette on each pane. The room was warm, aided by the newly-added wood fireplace. The only sounds were the pelting of the sleet, the crackling of the fire, and the pounding of Alex’s heart. He was all alone this night. His mom wanted to drop by, but he turned her down. Alex wanted to be alone. It gave him time to rest and recount what thoughts tortured his mind. He sat up slowly in the burgundy wingback chair, adjusting the fleece blanket he’d placed over his exposed legs. A chill fell over the room as the wind suddenly gusted outside. Alex rubbed his arms and huffed warm air into his hands. The thin blue sweater he wore was not enough. His coffee brown eyes glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Alex sighed. It was only 8 PM, the evenings kept growing longer and longer. He ran his fingers through his tuft of brown, spiked hair. All of the week’s events caught up in his mind, needling at him incessantly. It had been very lonely ever since that fateful day, or as he called it ‘the end of days’. It had been the day that he and Mason ended their six-month-old relationship. He tried to look on the bright side and think objectively. Alex was only 22 years old, but was already ahead of most of his life goals. He’d graduated early from high school and had been on the dean’s list every semester at college. His upcoming graduation was a full six months ahead of his classmates. His dream of going to law school had finally become reality the day the acceptance letter arrived in his mailbox. He couldn’t wait to attend in the fall, after taking some time off. He’d just landed a job as a law clerk and could now pay for his own rental house. But now, all the goals, all the dreams, all the careful planning he and his parents had orchestrated together, meant little to him. Alex rested his head on his right hand, and stared into the fire. His life felt meaningless and empty without Mason to share it with. The breakup had been very one-sided. The last six months had been full of every emotion the young man could’ve mustered. He’d felt love, hate, passion, jealousy, absolute joy, pain. The breakup was very sudden, and very emotional. Alex felt his young, beardless face flush, and there was the sudden refreshing coolness of tears rushing down his skin. He brushed the tears away violently. He tried valiantly to stop the onslaught of memories, of all their dates, games they played, and nights they’d spent together. He’d battled this round of tears, but as an unrelenting foe, they came back, and in greater numbers. Alex surrendered to them at last and fell asleep after crying for a half- an-hour. He dreamt of when he and Mason first met. Chapter 2 It was June of the previous year, now just six-and- a-half months ago. Alex had submitted his application to study abroad in Europe for his final semester. The fresh-faced student felt the experience would enrich him and give him unforgettable memories. The chosen location was that of London, England. It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Alex had barely left his home state of Kansas, much less fly to a different continent! The trip was long, but good. Everything went off without a hitch. Even his luggage managed to make it there in tact. Alex would not be alone on this trip; there were other students with whom to bunk with. They were an eclectic group of three, from all different backgrounds. There was Paolo, the Spanish hunk who made every girl he met want to toss her bra at him. He was the silent, gorgeous, Spaniard. He was a soccer player with terrific legs, always in rugby shirts and shorts. He had thick, wavy black hair, smooth mocha skin and brilliant green eyes. His smile was picture perfect. Though he was a force to be reckoned with on the soccer field, he was shy as could be barely uttering a word. Alex had looked him over the moment he’d moved in. He looked very friendly. He found Paolo to be both a good cook and a great listener, especially in the wee hours. Then there was Jake, the southerner from Alabama, who admitted he was there just to party. Jake was rarely ever home; he wanted to immerse himself in the club scene of London’s finest pubs. Despite his near-perfect physique, he was a notorious booze- hound, and boasted frequently of his drinking accomplishments. There were also the tales of sexual exploits that Jake had plundered at various clubs, especially along London’s famous Underground, aka, the Tube. He wanted to be very popular among London’s female population. Alex found him puzzling at best. Alex was eager to explore all that London had to offer. The first two weeks passed quickly. In that time, he had found a part- time job as a waiter, and gone on three sightseeing tours. He saw the London Eye, aka Millennium Wheel, with a nice view of Parliament and Big Ben. He nearly changed his mind just by the long lines to get on and the tight security. Alex watched in amazement as two security guards with mirrors attached to poles swept each pod as it emptied. Alex shook his head, wondering what a world without 9/11 would be like. Finally, for a bit of fun, he went to Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. It was extremely crowded and quite difficult to get a picture of a wax figure without getting a fellow tourist in the frame. With his limited funds, Alex was relieved there was a joint ticket available to both Tussaud’s and London Eye for a discount. His digital camera was certainly getting a workout. After this time, Alex wanted to delve into what types of people London had to offer. He decided to go out on his first night off, a Thursday. He’d chosen to dress as he always had, conservatively. Alex donned dress black trousers, which were freshly ironed of course. He’d paired it with a crisp, white, long- sleeved shirt he’d also ironed. His short, spiked hair was combed just so. His breath was made as minty-fresh as possible. Alex had never been on a date before and was petrified of the whole process. He’d decided now was the time. He left for the pub section of town to sow his oats. He’d wandered by this section of town on two previous occasions, but only in the daytime. The nighttime brought out a completely different classification of people. No longer were people rushing hurriedly to get their business done. It was much more relaxed and social. Clean-cut Alex left his cab and took in the scenery. He wasn’t noticed as he’d pulled up, which he took as a good sign. He never did like the spotlight. The streets were filling up, but not even at half-capacity yet. It was only 7 PM. All Alex could see were men, everywhere. They came in all sizes, colors, and dialects. He cruised a few as unnoticeably as possible. Some of the men noticed and looked back. Alex felt his shyness kick in and quickened his pace. He walked past a few groups on his way to the door of his chosen pub. He overheard the Scottish brogue, Irish, German, and even mid-eastern accents. There was also the myriad of smells in the air. It was a fine mixture of Polo and Stetson. Then there was whatever cologne the mid-eastern men wore. He found them haunting in a way. Being raised in the Midwest he’d rarely seen one in his town. They were new and interesting. Unfortunately, the only ones he’d seen before were on the news and terrorists. Alex pushed the thoughts out of his mind. London was truly a melting pot of the UK. Alex finally reached the door to his chosen pub, The Houndstooth. Even before he could reach for the door handle, a very large bouncer asked for his ID. Alex presented his passport as proof. The bouncer scrutinized it carefully, as Alex looked on hopefully. Finally, after a tense moment, the bouncer let him pass. The glass in the door vibrated with the loud music from inside. As soon as the entry was opened, the loud music spilled into the streets as a rushing wave. Alex grimaced. He’d always hated loud music, but had to endure it if he wanted to fit in. He tried valiantly not to cover his ears to at least diminish the punishing din. He decided to attempt to focus his attentions on what the other men wore. It varied widely. There were professionals still in their suits, minus the tie. There were soccer fans wearing replicas of their favorite player’s jerseys. There were even a few odd men without shirts at all, only leather vests covered their bulging, hairy chests. Alex eyed his own outfit and saw that he did fit in, but his smaller size made him stand out. He was only 5’9” and weighed 150 lbs. He was skinny and pale, and scared to death. Some men noticed and tried to catch his eye. Alex hurried to the bar to get a cold drink. He knew warm beer was the local favorite, but would insist on a cold one. He stood ramrod straight at the bar, his legs began to shake they were so tensed. The bartender was a very large man with long, grey hair in a ponytail and a goatee. He must’ve been at least 200 pounds, Alex guessed. He could hear him laughing loudly with his fellow countrymen on the other side. He saw one point in his direction, and not in a friendly way. Finally, the barkeep walked over and barked at the trepid young man. “Ay, bloke! What’s your pleasure?” Alex tried to respond, but his voice had suddenly lost its sound. The gruff barkeep rolled his large blue eyes and sighed audibly in exasperation. Alex suddenly found his voice and shouted back. “A draft! Cold!” He’d said it so loudly that it caught the attention of all the men in the vicinity. Some smiled and laughed, a few others winked. Alex blushed, wary of the notice he’d drawn. He reached into his wallet and pulled out the right amount of money. He slapped it onto the bar and quickly drank off 1/3 of his ale to attempt to quell his fears. He decided to return to just people- watching and cruising. Suddenly, the crowds cleared just long enough for Alex to spot a man sitting alone. He wondered how long he’d been there. He was dressed differently than anyone else in the bar. His outfit looked to be all black: pants, turtleneck, even his shoes. Alex could see when the man turned his head that his hair was in a smoothed ponytail that crept halfway down his back. He tried to catch the man’s eye color, but the dim lighting made that exceedingly difficult. Alex decided there was only one way to find out. Mustering up every ounce of courage he had left, Alex took a large swig of his beer, which was so cold it caught him off guard. He choked for a moment on the icy beverage, but managed to calm himself, take a deep breath, and walked over to the man he’d spotted. When he approached, he eyed the chair opposite the man. “Is this seat taken?” The man quickly looked up and straight into Alex’s eyes. The student felt a rush, as if the man were looking right through him. The eyes appeared dark and cold in the setting; Alex hoped that wasn’t truly the case. After a long moment, the man replied. “No, that seat’s free.” Alex smiled and quickly pulled the chair out and sat down. He felt as if he’d just claimed a prize and had to hurry before someone else tried to. He looked over at the man and stretched out his right hand. “My name’s Alex. What’s yours?” The patron finally smiled and stretched out his right hand as well, joining Alex’s. “Mason.” They shook hands. It wasn’t too long or too tight, just right. Alex could always tell a lot from a handshake. He certainly liked what he felt so far. “Nice to meet you, Mason. Are you from London?” Mason grinned and took a sip of his ale. “No, I’m from Virginia. I’m just here on business. I feel like England is my second home though. It certainly has rubbed off on me!” Alex’s tensions had to be tamed. He wanted to know much more about this man. For starters, he’d been trying to guess Mason’s age. He was obviously older, but by how much he could not discern. When he was nervous, Alex had a bad habit of blurting out peculiar questions. Just as Alex opened up his mouth to ask, Mason leaned forward and looked into his companion’s pale, fair face with a scrutinizing eye. “Hey, not to be rude, but are you even old enough to be in here?”
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