Turks Cay

By Kirby Crow

What's it like to be a resident on a tropical island that's known as THE gay party place to be? For Ethan and Kit - workers in the Cay's BDSM scene - trying to make a living in the place you call home requires more than just partying.

Enter Vincent; a handsome, mysterious client who turns out to be more than just a player. In just a few weeks, Ethan finds himself falling for the masterful Vincent, but complications arise when Kit turns jealous and throws a wrench into Vincent's plans to make Ethan his own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bonecamp
• Release date: Nov 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540132147

Kirby Crow

Kirby Crow worked as an entertainment editor and ghostwriter for several years before happily giving it up to bake brownies, read yaoi, play video games, and write her own novels. Whenever she isn't slaying Orcs or flying a battleship for the glory of the Amarr Empire, she can be found in the kitchen, her vegetable garden, or busy writing her next book.Kirby is a winner of the EPIC Award (Best Horror Novel) and the Rainbow Award (Best LGBT Novel). She is the author of the bestselling "Scarlet and the White Wolf" series of fantasy novels.Her published novels and works are:Prisoner of the RavenScarlet and the White Wolf 1: The Pedlar and the Bandit KingScarlet and the White Wolf 2: Mariner's LuckScarlet and the White Wolf 3: The Land of NightAngels of the DeepCircuit TheoryHammer and BonePoison ApplesScarlet and the White Wolf 4: The King of ForeverMalachite: Book 1 of the Paladin CycleMeridian (Mirror Series #1)Windward (Mirror Series #2)Scarlet and the White Wolf 5: The Temple RoadChimeraThe Art of FireFor upcoming news of her future novels, visit http://KirbyCrow.com

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Copyright

This is a work of fiction . Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Turks Cay, 1

© 2016 by Kirby Crow

http://KirbyCrow.com

Bonecamp Books

License Notes:

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you, then please return to your favorite online retailer and purchase your own copy, or any other work by the same author. Thank you for respecting and supporting the hard work of creators everywhere.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or part in any form.

Cover Art by Kirby Crow

ISBN 9781540132147

Editors: Reya Starck, Megan Derr

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

This is all Megan Derr’s fault. Publish your book, slacker! 

Chapter 1

AS A rule, Ethan didn’t take late calls from clients. Late calls meant that either Ethan was a second choice or the guy was drunk. His regulars knew his routines. They knew they were not welcome to just drop by or to expect him to cancel his arrangements.

Not unless they paid very, very well.

He'd gone swimming earlier, gotten a little drunk, stubbed his toe on the sidewalk, gotten a sunburn, and burned his dinner. Kind of a crap Monday, all around, and no small part of that was thanks to the blowout fight he’d had with Kit over the weekend. Funny; he could barely remember what they’d fought about now.

He wasn't in the mood to entertain any kind of customer, but he recognized the number calling his phone. Max’s referrals always paid well. Max had a friend, he said. New in town but well-known. Ethan knew that was shorthand for one of Max’s business connections.

Ethan looked at his watch and repressed an impatient sigh. So.... what, I’m his welcome package?

Max’s deep chuckle purred through the phone. The best kind of package. Can you work him in? This guy has no problem with your fee.

"My doubled fee. You know I don’t like surprises."

Done. He’ll be there in an hour. Thanks again, Ethan.

Ethan put a smile into his voice.  Anything for you, Max.

He hung up, stripped his swim trunks off, turned the AC on full blast, and took a quick shower. When he came out, dripping and raking his blond hair back from his forehead, his phone was ringing again. He stabbed the talk button with a damp finger. Hullo?

Hi there! Hello, you!

The young, husky voice was bubbly, too full of the fake, plastic cheer that Ethan used on his own tricks, and had just used on Max.

I’m not one of your johns, Kit. Just in case you forgot.

Kit’s tone turned to immediate hurt. Hey man, that's no way to—

Sorry, Ethan broke in, before Kit could start in on the guilt. I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood and I’m in a hurry. How are you?

Fine.

Pouty. A massive pout-fest. Ethan pictured Kit’s luscious lower lip poked out in woe. He reached down and shifted his dick under the fuzzy towel. Just thinking about Kit had already made him a little hard. I said I was sorry, babe. It’s been a weird day and I'm busy, but I won't be busy all night. Is everything okay?

I'm bored.

Ethan chuckled. He gave up rearranging under the towel and curled his fingers around his shaft. Want to phone sex me?

I want to see you, Kit replied.

Ethan heard music in the background. Are you at Torch? Torch was the biggest bar on the Cay, away from the beach side and nearer the marinas. It was Kit’s usual hangout and hunting grounds. 

Yeah, just leaving the parking lot. Kit gave a long-suffering sigh. So I guess you’ve got a late client, huh?

Ethan winced. Yeah.

He must really be something for you to break the rules for him.

They’re my rules. I can break them if I want, Ethan replied. Anyway, he probably won’t stay long. How about I give you a call when he leaves and you can come over?

Kit snorted. And get his leftovers?

Ethan rolled his eyes. Again with the pouting. He asked himself for the hundredth time why he put up with Kit's tantrums, not to mention his insecurity and jealousy.

It’s not like he’s not in the same damned business himself.

Ethan opened his mouth to tell Kit he was no mood for this shit, then he heard the ragged sigh and Kit’s husky voice went sweet and sad.

I miss you, Ethan. I hate it when we fight.

Ethan’s anger melted. I know, babe. I miss you, too. I'll call you after, okay?

Sure, Kit said flatly. You do that.

Ethan heard the low, expensive purr of Kit's car engine before the line went dead, and wondered where Kit was headed to make trouble. Somewhere upscale, naturally. That face would open any door.

Unlike him, Kit didn’t have a routine, rules, or established working hours. His clients called day and night, and Kit would either agree to see them or not, depending on his mood. It was an awful business model, but Ethan couldn’t argue with the results. Kit earned three times what he did.

Ethan sighed, silenced his phone, and tossed it on the couch. He walked into the bedroom and opened the closet door. "Hmmm, what does one wear to cocksucking appointments these days? he asked aloud in an exaggerated voice. Ah! he whipped off the towel and posed in front of the mirror, one hand on his hip. Perfect! Le birthday suit."

Ethan kept his long hair trimmed to his shoulders to accentuate the sleek muscles of his body, the high arches of his feet and the broadness of his shoulders. When dry, his hair would turn to curling gold, and men never stopped complimenting him on his eyes, which were an ordinary brown but had a narrow, startling shape that whispered sex with every blink of his long lashes.

Definitely not a twink, he decided, examining his reflection with no small amount of satisfaction. Too many men saw his long hair and pretty eyes and assumed he was a bottom. Well, he was, when the money was right, but business was business and pleasure was a whole other matter. On his own time, he preferred to be in control and sought it out with Kit at every opportunity.

He hoped Kit would be occupied long enough for him to finish the appointment. Not like last time, which had been a godawful mess. Kit had a knack for getting himself into trouble. He always needed rescuing or bail money or sobering up or retrieving when some trick left him on the far end of the island or even on the side of the causeway. His long and seemingly never-ending series of perils had prompted Ethan to dub him Snow White.

Ethan had called him Snow a few times in public and the name stuck with certain of Kit’s clients. Kit now used it as a professional stage name of sorts: For the best blow, ask for Snow.