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Why did I do it? Why did I let this guy do those things to me? More importantly, why did I enjoy it so much? A sensual misadventure with a stranger leaves closeted, college-bound Adam restless, haunted by the memory of what had happened at the park a week earlier. Now craving for the rough handling he had received, he forces himself to escape back to his normal life and move on. Too bad the stranger, Martin, has other ideas. He ends up on Adam's door with an incriminating photograph, threatening to expose him to his naïve, judgmental mother if he doesn't cooperate with Martin's plans. Fearing exposure, Adam once again follows Martin into his twisted, sensual world. He is quickly trapped in a situation he could not control...and that was before drugs, money and powerful cartels come into the picture! Suddenly, Adam is caught in between Martin's schemes, and the wrath of a god-like, tattooed cartel boss bent on bloody, brutal retaliation. Does the sheltered, closeted college boy have what it takes to survive? *A gay thriller for mature audiences. SAMPLE 1: "Let's me and you get something straight right now. You belong to me and you'll do anything I ask. You got that, boy?" He didn't raise his voice, and talked as if he really cared about me. "Why are you doing this?" I asked softly, looking at him and hoping that he would just let me leave. "What do you mean 'why am I doing this?' You asked me to, boy. Don't you remember?" He continued to stare down at me with an expression of mild bewilderment and surprise. The frustration that had been building in me all day had given me a little courage and I didn't feel like taking anymore of this guy's shit. I had had enough and I wasn't interested in being nice anymore. "What do you mean I asked for it?" I said sarcastically, beginning to raise my voice. "I didn't ask to come here. I wouldn't be here except for that picture and that little stunt you pulled in front of my house. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Still smiling Martin said, "Well, maybe you just have a bad memory. Let me see if I can help you out." With that, he suddenly reached forward and grabbed my hair, pulling me off the bed... SAMPLE 2: "I think you are ready also, Chico. But it is not just you and I, Chico who are here. Let me ask your friend." Looking over at me, and this time I did not look down as our eyes met, he asked. "So tell me, No One. What do you think I should do?" I looked at the entire view in front of me. The previously cocky Latino teen who had met me at the park earlier was now on his stomach, his legs squeezed together, his hands gripping the edge of the bed, and a look of crazed lust on his face mixed with his tears. I looked at the man who towered over him, covered in tattoos and muscle, his horse sized cock positioned at the edge of Arturo's hole that was now quivering and shaking. I looked back at Maldito and with a serious but honest voice I told him what he should do. "Fuck him. Fuck him hard." And with that Maldito looked back down at Arturo who was still looking over his shoulder and said, "You heard the man."
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