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eBook Category: Erotica/Science Fiction
eBook Description: When his ex-lover Dylan Teague discovers a lost colony ship during a routine starmapping mission, navigator Neal James is asked to join the expedition. Then a fatal, dormant virus seems to resurface, and the two find themselves the target of an irrational hate that threatens to destroy the remaining colonists. Warning: this book contains homoerotic love scenes between gay men that may offend some readers.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: iUniverse, 2002
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2007

50 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [335 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [294 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [293 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [943 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [333 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [272 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [307 KB] , hiebook (KML) [739 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [398 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [280 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [344 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [394 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [441 KB]
Words: 107165
Reading time: 306-428 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

She's right, the soup's the safest bet, and I carry two trays of it up to the cockpit, one on top of the other, walking carefully to avoid spilling any. On the captain's bridge, I hit the door switch with my elbow and stand back as the door cycles out of my way. I step onto the deck and as the door closes behind me, I announce, "Soup's on."

There are two seats in the cockpit, the pilot's chair that Dylan is stretched out in and the copilot's seat, which is empty. Turning, Dylan smiles when he sees me, stands and takes the top tray from me as he plants a quick kiss on my lips. "I thought you'd never get here," he murmurs, kissing me again, lingering this time, his lips soft and his tongue insistent where it presses into my mouth. "I was afraid you were holding out on me."

I laugh and step back so he doesn't knock into the soup, my elbow hitting the door behind me. "Dylan," I say, "dinner's gonna get cold--"

"Let it," he tells me. Setting his tray down on the floor, he takes the other one as well, places it beside his own, then leans me back against the wall, a hand on either side of my head and his hips grinding into mine. "I need you," he sighs, kissing my neck. I let my eyes slip closed and fist my hands into his jumpsuit.

"Right now?" I ask, hoping it sounds coy and teasing and not the least bit like my blood's on fire for this boy in my arms, pinning me up to the door, but he thrusts into me and I know he feels that hard thickness at my groin, aching at the confines of my jumpsuit--I know he feels it against his own erection because that rubs along my thigh, as eager as his lips that cover mine.

"Now," he breathes, and the hum of my zipper when he pulls it down is lost in my low moan. His knee presses between my legs and into my crotch, and then his hands are slipping into my open zipper, smoothing along my naked chest, cupping my erection through my thin boxers and then easing around my hips, beneath the fabric, until he has one arm wrapped around my waist, one hand cradling my bare ass, kneading hungrily. He buries his face in my throat and I hug him close, my arms around his neck, my lips in his hair and I moan his name again, he's kissing me and rubbing me and he's right, what's wrong with right here, right now? Somehow I get a hand between us and trail it down his chest, trace the zipper down to the bulge at his groin, take the hardness in my palm and squeeze it, making him gasp and thrust into me again. "Oh Jesus, now," he sighs.

I like him like this, so needy, so mine. "I like it when you call me Jesus," I murmur, but he kisses me quiet because he's done playing, he wants me and he's going to have me and he's getting no argument from me there.