Read Online Incubus Moon by Andrew Cheney-Feid - Free Book Online Page B

announced: Men’s Only Night . With all the hot Czech women afoot, in addition to my complete lack of sex in nearly two weeks, I was ready to pop.
    “There is problem?” Pavel asked as we exited the cab.
    “Yeah, I’m not gay.”
    He stared back at me for the longest moment, his blue eyes wide with self-conscious disbelief, his pale, freckled cheeks turning bright red. Then he did something unexpected.
    He lost it.
    Passersby took in his laughing fit with smiles. The sound of it was somewhat girlish but completely infectious. Even I couldn’t help letting loose a chuckle or two.
    “Big apologies, Austin. I assumed that…” He shook his head and wrapped his tall, lanky body around mine, which shook now with silent laughter. “Come,” he said taking a step back, “I know just where in Prague to take cute straight boy like you.”
    What Pavel didn’t know about me (couldn’t know) was that I wasn’t altogether straight anymore. Okay. I’d had sex just once with another man, along with a raunchy dream-gone-bad starring an impossibly handsome Alitalia flight attendant. That did not make me or my libido any less female friendly. Then what did it make me, exactly?
    Pavel started to maneuver me toward an idling taxicab, but I held my ground. “No.”
    His amused embarrassment faded. “Austin, I am sorry that—”
    “No. What I mean is, let’s go inside,” I shocked myself by telling him.
    His eyes grew large again. “But I know very nice club where lots of pretty girls go.”
    The way I saw it, this guy had gone out of his way big time to ensure that the Golds and I had a memorable visit to his city. That he’d also been largely responsible for pulling me out of my sullen funk was yet another reason I could do something kind (albeit weird) for him.
    Besides, I had no intention of scoring at Alcatraz.
    “That’s great, Pavel, but I want to see it.”
    He appeared to weigh my decision, then nodded. Hey, he’d brought us here to begin with. Pavel clearly wanted to go inside and blow off some steam.
    “Do not worry,” he said once we got in line. “I will protect you.”
    Shit . Was I really ready for this? “You’d better.”
    My host might be taller and more familiar with the workings of a sex club, but he lacked a good forty pounds of muscle over my one-hundred-ninety-pound-frame. Factor in years of martial arts training and my newfound incubus strength and the one thing that I was not the least bit concerned about was having to fend off overly eager admirers.
    Once inside, though, I began to have second thoughts. Make that third and fourth thoughts. The club’s clientele skewed much older than I’d expected and also leaned toward the leather gear and harness-wearingcrowd. As an incubus (God, would I ever get used to referring to myself as that?), I’d recently opened to new forms of sexual experimentation. Hardcore gay S&M/B&D weren’t among them.
    Not yet, anyway.
    Shaved heads, tattoos, and piercings everywhere imaginable, also played a major theme at Alcatraz, as did a general disregard for the use of deodorant. Pavel didn’t seem to mind this one bit. He was glowing like a filly in estrus in a field of randy stallions.
    “Go,” I told him with a laugh. “Have fun. Just come get me when you’re done.”
    After twenty minutes of raunchy Euro porn in the club’s only bar, and being the decided apple of several leather-clad gents’ eyes, I abandoned my half-finished vodka martini in favor of a little exploration. Exploration did not have to mean participation, I reminded myself.
    Larger than expected, Alcatraz played host to fewer customers than I’d imagined, lending a more squalid and sinister air to its dark, maze-like corridors.
    The few low-wattage red bulbs did little to give the place a less creepy feel, as I passed small rooms tricked out with all manner of sex gadgets—or devices of torture, depending on one’s bent. De rigueur porn played on small color monitors in each of these