On a lush, tropical island inhabited by rogues, thieves and villains, where men take the law into their own hands, a father and son are thrust into tumultuous events that will change their lives forever.
Bernardo de Rodrigo is proud of his son. Alonso is handsome and winning, and everyone he meets is instantly drawn to the tall, warm Spaniard. But how could either of them have known that a forbidden love is about to claim Alonso’s heart?
Arbol, the charismatic male slave who was saved from the clutches of Raul Ignacio Martín, feels an instant connection with Alonso, the moment he looks into Arbol’s eyes, the moment they touch.
Bernardo has other things to worry about, however. He’s trying to exorcise himself of an intensely gratifying yet shame-filled sexual affair with Raul, who secretly adores Bernardo but doesn’t know how to show it.
When Raul blackmails Bernardo, their dark and sordid relationship not only threatens the bond between father and son, it places Arbol’s life in danger. Now Bernardo must make a difficult choice that could further alienate his son while Alonso must find a way to keep the man he loves.
* * * * *
Alonso stood in his darkened bedroom completely naked. It wasn't something he normally did at home. But here, in the Caribbean, things were different. All he had to do was breathe the air into his lungs, and he was aroused. There was a certain energy, like a charge. Something he could feel more than touch. It was almost as if lightning had struck in that part of his mind where sexual desire resided.
It had been one thing, on the ship, to allow Tocino leeway, let himself be lured down a path he had never followed. In fact, late the night before, they had been most indiscreet while on deck. They had been in shadows but could still have been seen if someone truly had bothered to look. It was part of what added to the excitement of their hurried encounter.
And what sensations he had felt!
First Tocino's hands had been all over his flesh, burning him. Then the man had hurriedly freed Alonso's cock from his pants and undergarments and hungrily wrapped his lips around the head. Even after repeated attempts on their three-month voyage, Tocino was still unable to take Alonso all the way down his throat. It thrilled Alonso tremendously.
The excitement of being serviced the way he had been, only semihidden from the others on duty had been thrilling enough. But now that he was finally on the island, especially after having seen Arbol again, after touching his hand, feeling him near, Alonso felt as if a large fire were burning brightly and roaring somewhere inside him.
But where was Arbol? Where did he live?
Looking through the window in his room--beyond the barn and beyond the forest of trees to the clearing where the slave quarters had been built and were now lit by the waxing moon--Alonso thought to search for him. He wanted to take Arbol's hand and share with him the wonderful pleasures of the flesh, show the tall, handsome slave all the things he had experienced.
If only he were here now. Alonso groped himself.
Unfortunately there had been no assignments left for Arbol. And despite the smile on his dark brown, almost black face, Alonso knew Arbol had been gravely disappointed.
Alonso had tried to persuade his father, to no avail. The man refused to budge from his decision that Arbol was best left in the fields for his own protection.
In private, Alonso had argued that after all this time, Raúl would have forgotten about the lost baby, assumed him dead. But his father still refused him, finally confessing that due to Arbol's strength and size, he could do the work of three men. That type of field-worker would be a tremendous loss. Then his father did something he had never done before. He abruptly ended the conversation.
Still irritated by that, Alonso leaned into the night air and looked up at the moonlit sky. He spread his arms wide on the sill made from thick wooden timber. Feelings he had forgotten, memories that were all but a whisper, came flooding back.
Perhaps I should not have hugged him, Alonso thought, then pushed the thought aside. He was the master's son. He would do what he wished.
But what of that strange feeling when I touched and squeezed his arm? Alonso could feel a tingling coursing through him, numb yet still there. Like the memory of a burn. It was as if Arbol had made an impression that lingered, one that was still very much alive despite how many hours had passed.
Alonso had never felt that before. It was an odd sort of tension, something he could almost put his finger on and touch. It felt similar to what he had felt that first night with Tocino. Only much stronger. All he could see in his mind--all he could smell--was Arbol.
Alonso was sure Arbol would welcome his advances. He briefly wondered if Arbol had been with another man before. If he had, all the better. And if he hadn't, how exciting it would be to show him how it felt to have another man do such pleasurable things to him.
As he thought of it, Alonso stroked his groin with his palm. He curled his fingertips around his pubic hair and tugged while his cock--thick, long, and tumescent--bobbed in the night air, seeking much-needed attention.
He closed his eyes and imagined Arbol, lips wrapped around the head of his cock, a hand around the base of his shaft, cupping his balls.
A lone drop of clear liquid flowed and dangled several inches below the head of his cock. It sparkled in the moonlight.
Alonso reached for it, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. The salty taste only aroused him more. With a sigh, he knew he had to find a way to bring Arbol out of the sugarcane fields and into the house, into his bed. But first he had to find him.
Turning from the window, Alonso hurriedly reached for the clothes he had worn earlier that day. He dressed, walked across the room, and opened the door.
Then stood there at the threshold.
What if I'm getting the wrong impression? What if I'm just imagining Arbol wants the same thing as Tocino? I'm sure he already has a girl--or a boy. Someone to take care of his needs. Why would he want to be with me?
And then another thought popped into his head.
What if he expected to be friends?
Copyright © Johnny Miles