Tristan turned his head to one side to watch his lover undress. Lover. What a joke. His lover was the man that he paid to be attentive, loving, but hard. Henri was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. Over six feet in height and with broad, manly shoulders he was magnificent. Long, dark wavy hair curled about his head and looked as though it needed the attention of a barber. It made him look gloriously debauched. Added to that were his eyes of a clear, almost crystalline, greenish-grey hue that seemed to see everything. It made him nigh on irresistible.
The man stood now, carefully removing his clothes so that Tristan could crawl onto him and be held. The two things that brought Tristan back time after time was the man’s powerful body that at once could overwhelm him, pin him to the bed,
