A Spartan Love
Alone, Andreas toils on a remote farmstead for a Spartan overlord. When a kryptes enters his world, Andreas fears for his life. The dread warriors stalk and kill helots—like Andreas’ father—as part of their training.
Andreas sees only one way to save himself: he must tame the fearsome warrior.
But what began as self-preservation develops into attraction. Yearning for the company of someone other than his ferret Ictis, Andreas decides to trust the Spartan warrior and risk the fate that claimed his father.
Born to rule by the sword, Theron sees the world as his and acts accordingly, taking everything Andreas offers and reaching for more. However, love between men in Sparta is considered shameful and requires either exile or suicide to redeem Sparta’s honor. Now, only the gods can save them from the terrible price Sparta extracts from men who desire other men.
Pan trotted into his pen at the head of his flock, tail flicking jauntily. Andreas couldn’t hold back his chuckle at the knowing gleam in the buck’s eye. “Yes, I have plans for tonight. Thank you for not interfering.”
Andreas glanced down at his dirt-and-sweat-stained tunic, redolent of rutting goat musk where Pan had rubbed against him. He brushed ineffectually at his clothing. “I can’t entertain a guest like this. I’d better bathe first.”
Not wanting to foul the spring, he strode to the small stream under the branches of the forest. Trees closed in around him, blocking the sun’s rays and dappling the forest floor, brook, and his skin. The stream was farther away from his house than the spring but offered enough water to clear away the day’s grime.
Stripping off his filthy chiton, Andreas tossed the tunic on the ground. He stepped into the cool stream and hunkered down, splashing the water over his heated body. The rivulets trickled down over his ribs, cutting through the dust and dried sweat. Andreas scooped handful after handful, drenching himself, enjoying the cool touch of the water on his back.
Tonight he would entertain the man in his home—the man with the sinful voice.[A1]
Andreas gazed down at the water droplets caught in his body hair. The sparkling beads trapped the shifting sunlight and drew his attention lower. His cock hung heavy and half-hard, the foreskin beginning to retract.
He stroked up the stiffening length, breath catching in his throat as he squeezed the reddened tip. The enticing vision of bathing the warrior roared back to life so quickly Andreas staggered and nearly fell. The thump as he seated himself unceremoniously on the stream bank drowned out his groan.
Giving in to the uncontrollable urge, Andreas slid his hand up and down his leaking shaft as, eyes closed, he pictured the man. The long muscles of his legs and back that made him move so gracefully. The voice that turned Andreas inside out. And his face… surely his warrior would be as beautiful as the gods.
His breath tore hot and fast through his chest, the harsh sounds filling his ears, driving him harder. Panting and groaning, Andreas pumped his cock, trying to pretend someone else touched him. The slender feminine fingers he felt obligated to summon were quickly replaced by thick callused fingers, the hands of a man.
Andreas’ body tightened and arched. “Ahhh…!” His shout echoed through the forest as ribbon after ribbon of his creamy seed splashed on his thighs and fell into the water.
He trembled for a moment longer, hand squeezing and stroking his cock, before slumping on the grassy bank. His chest rose and fell as he blinked at the trees overhead, shudders still running through his body.
“Now I’ve got to clean up again,” he muttered in disgust, splashing water over his legs. Hopefully, he would be able to focus on his cooking now.
Rising, Andreas glanced at the setting sun. He picked up his tunic, then swished the cloth in the water a few times to rinse it as best he could. Carrying the sodden chiton, he hurried home to change into the clean tunic he’d left out, his best.
Kayla Jameth grew up on the family farm in Ohio, baling hay, raising cattle, and making maple syrup. An unrepentant tomboy, her father taught her to weld before she graduated from high school.
She attended Cleveland’s Case Western Reserve University and later, Texas A&M University in her pursuit of veterinary medicine, taking her farther away from her rural roots. You can transplant the county girl, but you can’t make her a city slicker. Besides, it was only going to be for a little while, right?
But it wasn’t all hard work for Kayla, her sojourn as the princess of the Celestial Kingdom left her with the title sir and a costume closet the envy of many knights, lords, and ladies. See? She does have some ladylike qualities complete with the title of Lady to back it up.
After declaring for years that she was just a veterinarian who wrote not an author, Kayla now finds herself living in Spring, Texas (practically Houston) and writing m/m erotic romance. The location is probably a bigger surprise than the genre. Never the kind of girl to discuss makeup and clothing designers, she would rather be outside getting dirty with the boys.
Kayla shares her home with a cat, two guinea pigs, a gerbil, three guppies, a husband and a son and daughter.