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Off World 2: Sanctuary
by Stephanie Vaughan
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: The boys from Off World are back! Vigilant crewmember Sandy D'abu stays behind on Doradus station to mind the crew's new secure cargo business while the rest of the guys take the spaceship out on a run. There isn't a lot for him to do, so he spends his evenings at Durty Nelly's, keeping an eye on bartender Alex, a former pleasure slave a few of his crewmates feel responsible for. When the man who made Alex's a pleasure slave back on Earth suddenly turns up as part-owner of the sex club, Sandy agrees to help Alex out by pretending to be his boyfriend. After all, what are a few kisses among friends? The problem is that Sandy doesn't want to pretend; he's already in love with Alex. Alex is still skittish about being touched at all by anyone, let alone kissed by the huge ex-soldier, and if that wasn't enough, there are plenty of bad guys in both Sandy and Alex's pasts back on earth who have escaped to Doradus station too, and they all want a piece of the action.. Will Sandy and Alex be able to put the past, and the men who want to hurt them, behind them to find a future together? Find out in this passionate sequel to Off World.
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press/Top Shelf, 2007 http://www.torquerepress.com
eBookwise Release Date: August 2007
 
142 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [307 KB]
Words: 68926
Reading time: 196-275 min.
D'abu lifted his gaze over the rim of his mug to the man writhing onstage, another man's clenched fist inserted wrist-deep in his ass, and stifled a yawn. It was latex night at Durty Nelly's, so everyone performing in any of the club's various rooms was dressed accordingly. Some costumes were flesh-toned and so paper-thin the performers appeared nude. Almost. Others were thicker, colored in shades improbably and eye-catchingly bright. "Hey, baby. Buy a boy a drink?" Ignoring the rush of heat in his groin, D'abu turned toward the voice behind the bar. "Alex." They both knew the drill. Nothing changed but the date on the calendar and the theme of the night's shows. "Go hustle the tourists and leave the working stiffs alone, would you? And while you're at it, tell your boss he needs to freshen up the act. That's the third fisting I've seen this week." The bartender tossed him a cheeky grin, unaffected by his brusque tone of voice. "Not everyone's the connoisseur you are, Sandy. The tourists like it just fine." Alex gazed pointedly around the room at the rapt faces of the crowd, to a man their gazes riveted on the latex-clad figures on the stage, before throwing a wink and a smile in D'abu's direction and moving off down the bar. Letting his own gaze dip briefly to the perfect view of a very fine backside, D'abu turned back to his mug and drained it. He scrubbed one hand over his face and sighed. Alex was right. The tourists did like the show just fine. Just like Sandy had ... the first eighty or so times he'd seen it. In his marine days, back on Earth--half a lifetime ago it seemed now--he'd had fantasies. Exotic, erotic fantasies, or so he'd thought. As things turned out, though, his kinkiest, most forbidden fantasy would be lucky to make it as the evening's first warm-up act at Durty Nelly's. D'abu tried his best to focus on the goings-on onstage and block out the picture in his mind's eye. But, as he was finding with increasing frequency, his body overruled his head. Rolling his head, as though to ease a stiff neck, Sandy let his gaze slide sideways and pick up the tall, slim figure behind the bar. Like every other night, Alex was dressed entirely in black. Where the other bartenders and entertainment attendants dressed provocatively, some wearing so little that two handkerchiefs could have served as cover-ups, Alex was clothed from neck to foot. High-necked shirts with long, billowing sleeves covered his upper body, while loose pants that reached the floor bunched up around nondescript shoes and hid his long, elegant legs. Nothing could disguise the grace of that walk, though; loose-limbed and fluid, like a dancer. While D'abu gave cursory attention to the action onstage--fisting man having climaxed and now being lowered, chaise and all, through the floor as stage hands began moving in a new set of props--the bulk of his mental energy was focused on appearing not to watch the goings-on behind the bar. As D'abu not-watched, Alex leaned an elbow on the bar to talk to a customer, his cute little ass sticking out and causing problems for the other servers. Flirting and laughing non-stop, Alex worked the mark. Right on cue, never even realizing he was being worked, the customer ordered another Bomb Pop--the glowing blue drink that would have kept Nelly's in business even without the sector's hottest sex shows. Card swiped. Five credits for the house. Alex smiled and, ever so reluctantly, moved on.
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