Simply Pleasure Read Free Page A

skin.
    â€œAm I supposed to see to myself?” He scowled at the back of Val’s oblivious head. “How stupid of me. I forgot this was all for your benefit.”
    â€œThat’s not true, you were the one who—”
    â€œBegged?” Peter tried to ignore the sick feeling pooling in his stomach as Val turned around and came slowly back toward the bunk. “Oh, let’s not forget that. The great Valentin Sokorvsky would never beg for anything .”
    Val ignored him and vaulted up onto the top bunk.
    â€œExcept that I know you need sex, Val. That’s what’s wrong with you. The last two weeks without it have made you fight with the crew, Mr. Harrison, and most usually, me.”
    Peter gripped his cock and made himself climax, shuddering with relief as his come jetted out over his hand. “You asked me not to go and prostitute myself to get opium. Was that because you knew it would be cheaper to use me yourself ?”
    â€œPeter, shut your damned mouth.”
    â€œI know why you don’t like to look into my eyes when you fuck me. If you don’t acknowledge it’s me, you can pretend I’m just another client, can’t you? I’m so bloody glad I was here to give you relief, and, don’t worry: I certainly don’t expect any payment, or even a thank-you.”
    Peter got up and went to wash, his cock aching in sympathy with his heart. Of course, Val had left hardly any water, but Peter did the best he could. There was no sound from the top bunk. Val had turned his back and was apparently sleeping.
    Not that such behavior surprised Peter in the least. Val hated needing anything, particularly him. With a sigh, he straightened the covers on the lower bunk and allowed himself to fall asleep.

    Peter woke when the smell of roasting meat tantalized his nose and hurried to put on his shirt and breeches. If he was going to be allowed out for a walk after dinner, he had to be decently clothed. He didn’t bother to check on Val, his feelings still too raw to allow him to face his friend with the slightest hint of complacency. He’d learned over the years that Val was extremely difficult, and that the more he pushed or tried to force his friend to acknowledge his appalling behavior, the more defensive he became.
    Val’s being an aristocrat explained a lot. Peter stood up as the door opened and took the heavy tray of food from the precarious grip of the young cabin boy.
    â€œThank you, Jameson.”
    â€œI’ll be back in a while.” The cabin boy nodded. “It’s a fine, calm evening.”
    Peter put the tray on the table, picked up his plate and tankard of ale, and set about eating. Val didn’t stir and Peter continued to ignore him.
    After a while, Jameson came back, accompanied by one of the larger members of the crew who looked as if he’d been the victor in many prizefights.
    â€œErik will escort you on your walk.”
    Peter nodded. “Thank you.”
    Erik moved past him, went over to Val’s bunk, and prodded his shoulder.
    â€œWhat about him?”
    â€œHe’s probably had enough exercise for the day. Best leave him to sleep.”
    Peter followed Erik through the narrow passageways and finally up the ladder to the deck. He took in a deep appreciative breath of fresh, unsullied air. Jameson had been correct, the sea was as tranquil as a millpond, and the sun was setting on the horizon, bathing everything in golden light.
    He walked over to the nearest railing and looked out over the vast expanse of water. Memories of that other voyage, the one that had ended in disaster, suddenly overwhelmed him, and he blinked hard.
    â€œGood evening.”
    He looked up to find the ship’s captain had joined him and stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring out over the water.
    â€œGood evening, Captain Ford.”
    â€œYour friend has not come out for a walk this evening, then?”
    â€œMy