Overview

I'd dreamed of him again. Now, if I'd known that Juandre would haunt my thoughts day and night for the past ten years, I would never have had the man. I couldn't dispute my incisors had prickled at the sexy Hispanic ever since he'd pulled over and smiled a cheeky smile at me. As if I couldn't already read into that, I knew what he would ask me even before he asked. The thing was, I had felt a little peckish and hoped a meal would stop and take me home with him for the night. Prolonging my hunger was never good.

That final night of debauchery and discovery was the last item on my list to check off before my year-long sabbatical to clear my head and decide whether I wanted to run away or dismantle the Disciples. Over the years, I had managed to surround myself with them, and only Tony and the few men in our inner circle knew the true reason for Lord Andrew Whiskey.

He'll be in his early thirties, and I'll still look exactly like I did ten years ago. Will he even remember me?

Would he stir indignation against the world he now lived in, or would he accept himself even with the false background he'd painted? Would he utterly disregard himself as a gay man, and be the opposite of the man he'd led me to believe he was?

This story contains explicit graphic depictions of gay sex and crude language unsuitable for young or sensitive readers or anyone offended by gay sex.