Four Coins: A Gay Erotic Romance

By Habu

New York television soap opera heart-throb, actor Nathan Thorne, travels to Key West on an open-ended vacation from the pressures of the big city. He’s there to scout out the keys as possibly a new home where he can create the life he wishes to free him from the effects of a double tragedy in relationships and an even darker past he doesn’t want to face.

Having booked into the center of freestyle gay life activity on the key’s Duval Street, Nathan is immediately caught up in both the carefree gay male “whatever brings pleasure” atmosphere of Key West and in no less than four relationships offering him a widely divergent set of preference choices.

These are choices, however, that prove to be entangled with each other. Each offers both a release and a reconnection with the tragedies he is trying to escape. Only one man, however, the most incongruous and potentially most dangerous of those he links to, forces him to face his demons and points him to the path of satisfaction and healing. The question remains, however, which of these paths Nathan will choose to walk down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BarbarianSpy
• Release date: Jun 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781922187529

Habu

Habu is one of the pen names of a former supersonic spy jet pilot, intelligence agent, male model, movie actor, and diplomat. A wild youth in South East Asia was spent enjoying whatever sexual opportunities came his way, and much of his gay male writing is about recalling incidents from those days and inventing ones he’d perhaps have liked to experience. He now leads a very quiet and ordinary life.Check out our blog and get free stories. Feedback and reviews are always appreciated.

Book preview

Chapter One: Gene

Nathan Thorne had just made his first decision since landing in Key West—to go with an Audi 4 convertible rental rather than the Mustang that everyone else in line was getting—not getting, actually, had gotten and had already been on their way in while Avis tried to track down an Audi 4.

Sorry about that, the woman at the counter said, giving Nathan a glorious smile. Almost everyone goes for the Mustang in Key West. It once was Sebrings, but now it’s Mustangs.

Quite all right. I’m not in a hurry. He smiled back, politely. She still was looking like she wanted to swoon in his presence. He got a lot of that. And he wasn’t in a hurry. But he was a little irritated that one of the first decisions he’d made—which car to rent—after weeks of not being able to make one, just floating along, struggling to get up in the morning and to make it to night without screaming or torturing himself with his feelings of guilt, seemed to have been a bad one.

Was coming to Key West a bad decision too? Was considering moving here permanently fatally flawed no sooner than he’d gotten out of the plane from New York via Miami?

The young woman at the counter turned back to him. It’s ready now, sir. I’m really sorry about the wait. You’ll find it in bay 7 on the lot. You can wait for the courtesy bus, but it’s only a five-minute walk. It’s metallic blue.

The bus? Nathan asked, still distracted by his thoughts.

No, sir, the car you’ve rented.

Nathan was afraid she was going to break her face she was smiling so hard. He noticed for the first time too that she’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of her uniform blouse while she’d been turned away from him. He’d already noticed that she had big tits.

Are you meeting friends in Key West . . . or are you visiting alone? she asked.

A group of friends, Nathan answered, and, thanking her, he turned and left, hoping she hadn’t seen the flash of pain or the lie on his face when he said that. The word alone. It meant so much more to him now than it ever had before. And, yes, he was alone. Utterly alone. Twice over.

He was staying at the New Orleans House, right in the center of everything on Duval Street, he had been assured. He was trying the shock treatment; trying to jump back in with two feet. The young woman at the counter—quite the looker really—apparently hadn’t zeroed in on the hotel address he’d given. Either that or she was terribly naïve and didn’t know Key West very well. He wondered if she’d laugh or curse when she did look at it and realized what kind of hotel it was.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes to get to Duval, the heart of Key West life, or to find the New Orleans House, which was on top of the Bourbon Street Pub, which Nathan would have been able to identify just from the clientele loitering around the entrance. After he’d parked and come around from the back of the place, he had to good-naturedly fend off several offers just getting through the door in the middle of the building that opened onto the stairway up to the hotel on the second floor.

The reception clerk gave him pretty much the same look and deference that the car rental woman had.

Will yours be the only name on the booking, sir? the clerk asked.

Yes, I am here alone, Nathan answered, wincing again at the use of the word alone.

Not that it matters, of course, the clerk prattled on. We have a very lenient policy on visitors to the rooms.

Was that a wink the clerk gave Nathan?

That’s good to know. I know there isn’t much time left this afternoon, but is there a beach nearby? I’ve flown all the way from New York today, and I’ve been looking forward to dipping my toes in the water first thing.

An appropriate one? the clerk asked.

Yes, if such a one exists.

There is Higgs Beach and there is Fort Zackary Taylor Park. Both are south on Duval. For Higgs, turn east on South Street, south on White, and then west again on Atlantic. The Fort Zackary beach has areas giving more privacy. At this point the clerk definitely did give Nathan a wink. For that, turn west on Truman and follow the signs. But it’s getting late for the beach. The life will have already come up here on Duval . . . downstairs mainly . . . and I’ll bet you—

Thank you. You say the room is right down this corridor.

"Yes. Our best. Room 21. A king with a queen loft bed and a full kitchen. And French