Lust in London [MultiFormat]
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eBook by Adam Carpenter
eBook Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
eBook Description: Jake Westbury has tired of the bar scene, the one-night stands, and unfulfilling relationships. Usually so controlled in his life, he makes the impulsive decision to spend the summer in London on a quest to shake things up, and hopefully fall in love. Upon his arrival, he quickly meets the bookish Nevil and the devilish Hunter. A fateful party where both are attendance turns Jake's world upside down. When a meeting in the park with the sexy, alluring Hunter Abbott goes awry, Jake finds himself in possession of a small fortune in cash. With only one clue to go on, and a thug giving chase, he has to figure out just what's going on. Will his powerful desire for Hunter make Jake throw caution to the wind? What game is being played, and is Jake one of the players, or just a pawn? Seductive, secretive, satisfying, LUST IN LONDON will remind you of the costly price of love, and ultimately remind you that what you seek may be far closer to home than you can imagine.
eBook Publisher: Ravenous Romance/Ravenous Romance, Published: 2011
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2011
2 Reader Ratings:
"You sure this is you?"
What kind of question was that? Of course he was the guy pictured in the photo. He remembered standing up against a bare white wall at the lotto/deli/photo store for it, like they were taking his mug shot, he trying to affect a smile when it was the last thing he felt like doing. A recent ugly break-up with a guy who turned into a big jerk had killed his mood, leaving Jake Westbury to pose like a rock star with an attitude. But then he realized what the security agent was questioning: the photo displayed a clean-shaven Jake, and of recent weeks he'd been sporting a freshly grown goatee. He supposed the circle of hair on his face altered his appearance enough to warrant a second look.
Jake rubbed his chin. "Oh yeah, going for a new look."
"Sure thing, kid," the guy said dismissively. "Makes you look...devious. I'm supposed to take note of devious."
Kid Jake liked, devious not so much. He was thirty-eight, probably not much younger than the man behind the security desk, but he wasn't as...weathered looking as this guy. Maybe the civil-servant life took it toll. Jake was a freelance writer/frustrated novelist by design, could shave his face or not. Didn't matter. He hated being tied down to one company, four walls, a single cubicle, one boring, same look. The world was his office, and on this day said world was opening wide its embrace. Tomorrow morning, he'd be on British soil, a summer of writing and adventure awaiting him.
"Have a good flight," the guard said, handing back the passport.
As Jake made his way toward the scanners, his mind was distracted by the word devious. It conjured bad things, like he was a crook...or considering he was at an airport, a terrorist. A silly thought. Jake was as all-American as they came--thick brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin; he was no threat to anyone, except maybe to himself.
At the security checkpoint, he dropped his shoulder bag into the gray bin, taking out his laptop. Then he removed his blazer, his belt, his shoes, and made his way through the scanner without setting off any beeps or warnings. The body scanners were not as judgmental--you want to change your facial appearance, fine; just don't do it with metal. Jake retrieved his belongings, heading through the terminal toward his gate.
Just then panic washed over him. Nervously patting the pockets of his blazer, his pants, he realized he didn't know where he'd placed his passport. A mild sweat broke out across his forehead. Where the hell was it? Jake had stuffed it back inside... Wait, had he put it inside his carry-on luggage? You know, this was the worst part about flying, the mess they made of your head, putting all sorts of thoughts inside it about terrorists, criminals, the underbelly of the human condition, so much so they had you forgetting who you were, screwing with your prized organizational skills. Jake was the kind of person who placed his wallet in the same location every day, the back left pocket of his jeans, and yup, after a quick pat, he noted that the wallet was there. Thank God. But his passport, that was entirely another matter. And without it, there was no way the airline personnel would let him board the aircraft, no way the stern officers at passport control on the other end would allow him entry into the country.
A summer-long trip to London, England, off to a banner start, ended before he'd even had a chance to get out of the terminal. For Jake Westbury, who planned his life to within an inch of perfection, for such an important detail to go awry, well, that just wasn't acceptable, was it?
He stopped in his tracks to review his most recent steps. He had only gotten about one hundred feet beyond the body scanners, and he knew he had his passport in his hand as he tossed his belongings into the gray bins at the checkpoint. He reviewed. Shoulder bag open, laptop out, shoes off, boarding pass... Wait, where the hell was his boarding pass? With his passport, of course, stuffed in the middle of the booklet. Bending down, he opened his bag, searching past his book and his iPod, the two items that would occupy his time on the six-hour overnight flight, taking out his laptop once more. Essentially, he emptied the small bag's contents onto the floor, shook the bag while oblivious to the strange looks he was receiving from passersby. Not one person stopped to ask if he needed help, not that he expected assistance. In this selfish world, people looked after themselves first and themselves second. Shit, shit, shit, it's not here, no passport, he thought, no boarding pass, his excessive swearing making him think he sounded a lot like his mouthy friend Freddie, though his increasing panic was more reminiscent of how the panicky Matt would react.
Jake Westbury had always been the monkey in the middle when it came to his two best friends. The oldest of their platonic threesome, the most practical, levelheaded of them, he always felt torn between Freddie's slutty, fun-loving lifestyle and Matt's closemouthed, heart-on-his-sleeve personality. Like Freddie, too often Jake indulged his desires with little thought to the consequences, but usually the next morning he was jealous of Matt's ability to not give in to such primal urges. He was the typical horny gay after a few drinks--love the climax, regret the guy. Such was the confounding nature that was Jake Westbury. And now, with Freddie having already left for Rome, Matt in Paris nearly two weeks now, it was Jake's turn to head off on his summer adventure in London.
That is, if he ever found his passport.