Amorous Overnight by Robin L. Rotham Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes, he took a calming breath, and then another. The minister knew he’d been on duty since early afternoon, and by now he was surely aware of the potential pitfalls of using the waste canal for something other than its intended purpose. If he wanted Hastion in pristine condition, he would allow him time to get that way.
    And the minister had suggested this experiment because he knew bottoming for another male could very well be unpleasant, if not thoroughly traumatic, and surely wouldn’t hold any uncontrolled reaction against him.
    Irrelevant, Hastion told himself one last time. He would control himself, the minister would accept him as second, and he would never give the minister any reason to regret offering him second position in his bond with Shelley. No other outcome was acceptable.
    Taking one last deep breath, he squared his shoulders and marched into the minister’s living quarters.

Chapter Three
    It was rather anticlimactic to find the suite’s large sitting area empty. Hastion looked around curiously for a moment and then followed the sound of music down a long corridor to the only open door.
    The minister sat at a large black piano in the midst of a treasure trove of instruments from all over the galaxy. Though there was no music display in front of him, he played as if he’d mastered the instrument long ago. Had he downloaded a mastery program or was he naturally talented?
    Hovering in the doorway, Hastion cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you took an interest in music, sir.”
    Cecine’s long, slender fingers moved quickly over the black and white keys, eliciting a triumphant melody from the piano—and another swell of heat from Hastion’s loins. Those fingers would be touching him soon, squeezing him, holding him, directing him…
    “Creating music was my outlet of choice when no other was available.” The minister glanced up at Hastion from under his brow as the music changed abruptly to dramatic pounding on the keyboard. “That and thrashing the conceit out of young warriors in the sparring arena.”
    Feeling as though he were negotiating his way over a deep chasm on a decrepit footbridge, Hastion said neutrally, “I enjoy sparring as well, sir.”
    The music changed again to a more soothing piece he recognized as a primitive Garathani ballad and he took another calming breath.
    “You don’t challenge other warriors,” Cecine observed.
    Hastion shifted. “I see no need to.”
    “That’s because you harbor no conceit. You’re aware of your own abilities and feel no need to prove them to anyone else.”
    “Actually, sir, I see no need to challenge because I am challenged so frequently. I am defeated nearly as often as I triumph.”
    Cecine smiled as he continued to play. “The operative word there, Ensign, is nearly .”
    Some of the tightness in Hastion’s chest loosened. “Yes, sir.”
    Ending the song with a flourish of low notes, the minister pushed back his stool and stood. “Well, Ensign, are you ready to put the matter of compatibility to the test?”
    Hastion braced himself. “As a matter of fact, sir, I’ve been on duty since luncheon and thought perhaps I should bathe first.”
    “That won’t be necessary. I find nothing offensive in the sweat of labor,” Cecine said, tugging his tunic off over his head as he walked by.
    Too enthralled by the play of muscles in the minister’s long, pale back to protest, Hastion followed him across the corridor. Inside the large sleeping chamber, Cecine shoved his pants down his lean hips and stepped out of them without ceremony, tossing both articles of clothing over the back of one of the two chairs framing the flare window.
    When he turned, Hastion’s mouth went dry. The minister’s stirring phallus was…huge. Not as fat as Zannen’s monstrosity, but nearly as long.
    Holy Powers, he was about to be fucked.
    “You look nervous, Ensign.”
    “Wouldn’t you be, sir?” he asked with difficulty.
    The minister scrutinized him