Wednesday, September 30, 2015

INFERNO (Pacific Cove 1) by Stormy Glenn

Pacific Cove 1
Available Now!
Danny O’Shay grew up knowing he never really fit in. His family avoids him. He falls so much that the staff at the local hospital knows him by first name. And he can’t get a date to save his life.
Enter handsome fire fighters, Ben and Abe Lake, two men that bring every fantasy Danny ever had to life. Except Ben and Abe seemed to have some business deal with Danny’s father that involves a ton of money and the assumption that Danny has a clue.
He doesn’t.
When Ben and Abe start talking about fated mates and shifters and a family legacy that goes back decades, Danny is pretty sure they belong in an insane asylum. But as he gets to know the handsome twins, he begins to wonder if being crazy is that bad. Being alone again seems worse.
After someone starts trying to take Danny out of the picture permanently, he has to trust that Ben and Abe are trustworthy and not in on the plot to kill him, because they might be the only thing to keep his life from going up in flames.

“What did you need to see me about, Father?” Danny asked as he tried to get his father’s mind on something else. “It seemed rather important.”
“Do you really believe I would call you here if it wasn’t?”
“No, of course not.” Danny could see the fire raging in his father’s eyes and knew he probably wasn’t going to come out of this confrontation unscathed. “I saw the cars in the drive. Are the others here?”
Mentioning his siblings seemed to have the desired effect. Charles turned and started to leave, glancing back over his shoulder. “Thomas, bring refreshments to the study.”
“Very good, sir,” Thomas replied, although Danny saw the former butler roll his eyes and doubted the man would be following through with his father’s order.
Daniel cast one last look over his shoulder and then followed his father out of the servants’ lounge. He was kind of surprised that Charles even knew the small room existed. He had certainly never seen his father in there. He had never even seen him in the kitchen. Charles O’Shay did not do manual labor. He might sweat and that would mar his perfectly pressed suit.
He hired people to sweat for him.
The silence that followed him as he walked toward his father’s study was ominous. Danny was still confused about why he had been called home. Whatever his father had to say to him obviously involved the entire family.
Danny couldn’t rightly say what scared him more, the fact that his father had called him home or the fact that all of his siblings seemed to be there as well. If he had a choice, he would turn and hightail it out of the family home just as fast as his feet would carry him.
Danny’s jaw dropped when they reached the foray. He wasn’t standing in the middle of the foray he remembered from his childhood. He wasn’t even sure he was in the same house. The old wooden stairs that went to the second and third floors had been replaced with white marble, the railings glittering with gold filigree. A huge crystal chandelier now hung from the middle of the ceiling.
Was that a Ming vase?
“You redecorated.”
“My wife didn’t like the décor.”
Danny almost tripped over his feet as he skidded to a stop. “Your wife?”
Danny’s jaw dropped. “You remarried?”
Charles turned and stared at Danny. “Did you expect me to mourn your mother for the rest of my life?”
Danny quickly lowered his eyes, his father’s gaze too intent. “No.” Danny just wondered why he was only learning of his father’s new wife now. “How long have you been married?”
“Two years, give or take a month.”
Two years. He had had a stepmother for two years.
“Did you elope?” he asked.
Danny started to get a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe his invitation had gotten lost in the mail. “Did you have a big wedding?”
“Yes, I’d say it was fairly big. I believe Mariana said the guest list was over two hundred.” Charles seemed very proud of that fact. “It was the social event of the season.”
And that right there was why Danny never received an invitation to the wedding. His father wouldn’t allow him to attend the social event of the year. He might bring shame to the family name.
“Well, congratulations.”
Charles stared down at him, blinking slowly before turning away without another word. Danny sighed and followed after his father. Even if he wanted to meet this new stepmother—which he didn’t—he doubted the mysterious woman wanted to meet him. Who knew what she had been told about him.
He was, after all, the family shame.
When they reached the study, Charles walked right on in. Danny paused just outside the door, knowing deep down inside that once he crossed the threshold, his life wouldn’t be the same. Something was going on here that made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.
And what was that delicious smell?
“Daniel, I’m waiting.”
“Sorry, sir.” Danny hurried into the room, his heart sinking when he realized that every member of his family was inside, including a blond haired woman sitting by his father. He assumed it was his stepmother considering the way she sat on the arm of his father’s chair.
Two of Danny’s brothers stood behind his father, the other one sitting on a couch by the window with his sister. Danny was a little surprised to see his father’s lawyer in the room. He had seen the guy from time to time growing up, but never actually spoken to the man.
It was the others in the room that Danny didn’t recognize. Two strangers stood near the fireplace, both with a glass of amber liquid in their hand. And geez, they were big burly men, standing inches taller than everyone else in the room.
Danny suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. Every eye in the room was on him. This must be what goldfish felt like inside their glass bowls. Danny rubbed the back of his neck, his nerves rattled by the intense attention aimed in his direction.
Was he supposed to say something?
“As you can see, he is fine.”
One of the men by the fireplace walked over and grabbed Danny’s neon green cast, gently lifting it into the air. “You consider this fine?” The man’s voice was deep and rough and almost made Danny swoon as it rumbled though his body like an electrical shock.
Danny’s chin was grabbed, his face titled back into the light. “And what about this?” the man asked as he pointed to the stitches on Danny’s forehead. The man had deep amber eyes that glowed with some internal light. They blazed with fire but softened when they looked down at Danny.
“I fell,” Danny murmured.
What was probably the largest, strongest hand in the history of hands, gentled as it stroked down the side of Danny’s face. “That will no longer be allowed.”
Had he just agreed to not fall down anymore?
Feeling more uncertain and bewildered with each passing second, Danny pulled back out of the man’s alluring touch. As he did, he realized that the second stranger had moved up to stand on the other side of him. He was surrounded.
“I need air,” Danny wheezed as his chest tightened in a fraction of a second. “Please, I need air.”

“I can smell your excitement, love.”
Danny’s eyebrows rose. “You can smell me?”
“It’s delicious, like the warmest honey with just a hint of cinnamon.” Abe licked his lips, the gesture so sensual, Danny felt his cock jerk. “I could eat you up.”
“Okay,” Danny groaned.
“Here,” Ben said from the front seat, “you’re going to need this.”
Danny caught just a glimpse of a small black bag before it disappeared behind his back. “What is that?”
Abe grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
Danny was dying of curiosity but the gleam in Abe’s eyes kept him rooted where he was. The man’s excitement as he messed with whatever was in that bag might rival his own.
“Straddle my thighs, Danny, and spread your legs as far as they will go.”
Trusting Abe to keep him safe, Danny did as the man requested.
“Now put your hands on my shoulders and use them to lift yourself up.”
Again, Danny did as Abe requested.
“Now, hold on, babe.”
Confusion collided with curiosity. Why would he need to hold on? Danny opened his mouth to ask that very question when it was answered in a way that made a cry of ecstasy come out of his mouth instead.
Something slim and cylindrical and vibrating was being slowly pushed into his ass. Whatever it was, it was no larger than the width of one of Abe’s fingers. And the vibrations were low enough that Danny could still breathe, but just barely.
Abe moved it in and out of his ass slowly, not moving any faster until Danny pushed back against it. “Do you like that, Danny?”
“Yeah,” Danny panted. He fucking loved it. “Wha-What is that?”
Abe grinned again but started to move the object in and out of Danny’s ass a little faster.. “Secret.”
Danny’s eyes slid closed as the vibrations picked up. He could feel his balls pulsing, throbbing. He moved, thrusting his ass down toward the vibrating object, impaling himself, driving it deeper into his ass, faster, harder.
“That’s it, baby,” Abe said. “Fuck yourself.”
Danny screamed when the vibrations increased to an all time high. The tip of his cock buzzed. His balls drew up close to his body and then a fiery sensation erupted inside of his body, sending shot after shot of cum up between Danny and Abe. Danny’s body once again collapsed against Abe, a happy little buzz still zipping through his body.
“Did you like that, baby?” Abe asked as he carefully withdrew the object from Danny’s ass.
“Hmmm.” Danny was non verbal at this point.
“All nice and relaxed?”
Danny grinned. “Uh uh.”
Danny didn’t know why that response sounded so evil until he felt something bigger than the last object push into his ass. It wasn’t so big that it hurt but there was a definite burn. By the time Abe stopped moving, Danny’s entire ass was impaled on the rubbery device.
“Ready, love?”
Danny’s eyes widened. “Ready?”
Ready for what?
Ten seconds.
After Abe hit whatever evil switch he had and the vibrations started and the object in his ass began to move up and down, Danny lasted a whole ten seconds before he was screaming his way through another orgasm.
By the time the truck pulled to a stop and Danny was lifted out of the back of the cab, he could barely lift his head. He had climaxed through four—no, five—five different vibrating dildos, each one larger, thicker, longer, and more powerful than the last one.
Danny currently had an incredibly large butt plug lodged in his ass, his very stretched out ass. That last dildo had been bigger than anything Danny had ever taken, including Ben or Abe. Danny was now fully aware of how they planned on him being able to take both of them.
Torture. Pure, mind numbing, pleasure filled torture.
He was a fan.

Monday, September 7, 2015

Lost in the Fire by Draven St. James


Aaron Evans embodies every complication Wren Tucker knows he doesn’t need. The tempting go-go dancer refuses to leave him alone and his attempts to get into Wren’s bunker pants don’t stop at the club, even the walls of the Firehouse aren’t safe. Wren’s control is only so strong, and his desire for Aaron is turning into a clawing need that’s digging through the many reasons keeping Aaron at bay.
Aaron is two cold showers away from hypothermia if the hot fireman of his dreams won’t give in to the lust Aaron sees blazing in Wren’s eyes. The only issue is, Wren is a forever man, and Aaron doesn’t have that in him to give, not with so many secrets locked behind the glitter and gold of his beautiful world.
As Wren begins to cave to Aaron’s delicious demands, he gets a deeper view of the tarnished landscape Aaron exists in. A murky pit of drug addiction that’s slowly dragging Aaron under, and Wren is going to have to fight like hell to save Aaron from it, to even have a chance at a new beginning with the man who brought him out of the shadows. 

      You already do. Wren crouched beside the bed. The first time Wren had seen him, Aaron had been dancing. The light from the club had touched on every toned dip and groove of Aaron’s body as it swiveled on the raised stage, his tight ass shaking with the beat of the music. All of that had been amazing, but it had been Aaron’s face that had captivated him—the free expression, like he was in another world. His full lips mouthing the lyrics, his head thrown back, and the locks of his black hair waving around his flushed face.
      In that moment of abandon, Aaron had met Wren’s gaze, a smile tugging at the corner of his sensual mouth. Aaron had continued the dance, but he hadn’t stopped focusing on Wren.

Draven St. James

Back to the Sky by Katey Hawthorne

Blurb for Back to the Sky

Rather than spend his first post-college summer on the beach with a hot boy and a margarita, Zane Woodward goes home. While the lectures aimed at getting him to be more respectable like his lawyer father aren’t appreciated, Zane wants to be near his sister and his best friend—both of whom he’s convinced need him.

Enter Geordie Finsen: the Buddhist, blue-haired, stacked house-sitter-next-door. Geordie has a penchant for parties, older women who can pay the bills, and younger men who can wear him out—and he may or may not be able to control the weather.

While Geordie and his philosophies start to disentangle Zane from his own expectations and hang-ups, they bring the two closer and closer, and their chemistry flares into a hot and heavy summer romance. But Geordie has hang-ups of his own, including an aversion to getting too attached to anyone or anything. When things get a little too heavy between him and Zane, his instinct to cut loose and run free is tested, and Zane’s plans for a perfect escape of his own might never get off the ground.

Back to the Sky is the "air" in the Elementals project.

“Girl scouts make great body shots.” Geordie yanked off his shirt, revealing a broad, defined series of muscles and grooves across his bare chest and stomach that made Zane sit up straighter and squeeze his legs together. The hair trailing from the center of Geordie’s chest down, past the sweet indentation of his navel, over the flat hardness of his lower belly, into his shorts, was scruffy and pale.

Zane almost laughed at himself. Of course it fucking was—what, had he expected it to be blue? Jesus. “A’ight. Let’s do it.”

Geordie threw his shirt at the sliding glass door, then pointed to Zane. “‘First you gotta lose the shirt.”

Zane complied. He wasn’t as cut as Geordie—with muscles that were more long, flat planes than defined in deep relief. He took care of himself, though, and it was sure as hell nothing to feel ashamed of.

“Then…” Geordie leaned over to rummage for the chocolate. When he found it, he sat up on his knees. “I’m not really into food play, by the way. I just kind of want to lick you.”

Zane thought, Holy shit, is this really happening? Zane said, “Read my mind, man.”

“Don’t move,” said Geordie. “Stay just like that.”

Zane stilled, hands pressing hard into the clay tiles beneath him. Geordie threw one leg over his lap and sat straddling his thighs, facing him. The smell of clean sweat filled Zane’s head, overpowering the peppermint. When Geordie leaned forward, looming over him, Zane rolled his head to one side, offering up his neck.

Something wet and cold hit his collarbone, and Zane lifted his shoulder to form a deeper cup. It filled with chocolate, cooling his overheated skin; a little line of it dripped down his chest onto his jeans.

He wrestled down a sudden shudder as it tried to race through his body. Goose bumps broke out, and his nipples hardened.

Geordie placed his hands at Zane’s middle, thumbs sinking into his jeans. He lowered his head, opened his mouth, and— Jesus Christ, look at him stick that fine ass up in the air like a goddamn cat in heat.

Geordie licked up his pec, cleaning up the little chocolate trail before more could drip off. Raff was right. I so want to smash in that back door. Fffffffuuuuuuuuu—

The thought never completed, as by that time, Geordie was sucking at his collarbone, licking, sucking some more, licking again, cleaning it out. Zane’s nipples perked even tighter; his fingers and toes tingled. His dick grew too heavy to hide, and fast. He curled up his fingers, forming fists to try and keep him from grabbing for the fine-ass man in his lap. His throat clenched as he bit back a little groan, swallowed it whole.

Geordie sat up, snagged a shot glass from the ground next to his knee, dropped the contents into his mouth, and began shaking his head.

Gently this time, but it still meant there was now a vibrating fine-ass man spread out over Zane, the backs of his thighs pressing into the tops of Zane’s, the flat of his belly, the button of his fly, the mouthwatering bulge behind it, all inviting Zane to touch, stroke, play. Zane uncurled his hands and ran his fingertips through the trail of hair between Geordie’s navel and the waist of his shorts. His skin was warm all over, like it held the sunshine.

Geordie swallowed and settled his ass against Zane’s thighs again. He dragged the back of his hand over his mouth and said, “You made it taste better.”

Zane sank two fingers into the front of Geordie’s shorts and pulled, just a little. Not enough to actually bring him forward.

Just enough to let him know he wanted to.

Geordie grinned and edged forward. Zane tilted his face up, and again Geordie went with it, tilting his face and pressing his lips to Zane’s. They were soft, as soft as they looked, sticky and sweet with chocolate and peppermint. Zane licked at the full lower lip, sucked at it, then started a new kiss. Geordie’s lips parted under his, and he scooted his ass up Zane’s thighs until they were that close to optimum dry-hump position. One of Zane’s hands stayed between them, running up and down the flat of Geordie’s belly, tickling; the other slipped around his waist, held him close, ran over the curve of that ass.

Geordie hummed a little, closed off the kiss, and let his forehead rest against Zane’s. Zane’s breath had gone heavy, his chest tight and his heart thumping. A little wind picked up and ruffled his hair, and he vaguely thought it might cloud up again, rain on them. He was fresh outta fucks to give, apparently.

“You want to try?” Geordie asked.

Zane could think of a couple of things he wanted to try right then, yeah.

Katey Hawthorne is an avid reader and writer of superpowered romance, even though the only degree she holds is in the history of art. (Or, possibly, because the only degree she holds is in the history of art.) Originally from the Appalachian foothills of West Virginia, she currently lives in Ohio. In her spare time she enjoys comic books, B-movies, loud music, Epiphones, and Bushmills.

Katey Hawthorne
Superpowered Love

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Lord and Master by Emma Holly


My name is Mia Beck, and I’m a lucky girl . . .

Billionaire Damien Call didn’t magically stop being moody just because Jake and I moved in with him. Fortunately, I've devised a strategy. I inherited a share in an exclusive erotic club, and they’re beta testing a role-play game. Surrounded by period perfect detail, members pretend to be Edwardian lords and ladies . . . or stable masters, if they prefer.

By switching up our dynamic, I hope to smooth the snags in our otherwise fabulous ménage. Neither of my lovers has trouble opening his heart to me, but I suspect Damien would benefit from exploring his dominant side, and he and Jake could be easier with each other.

That’s my goal anyway. My plan might go up in smoke when Jake and Damien concoct their own scheme for me!

The sequel to Beck & Call
 Review; I had the pleasure of reading the first book and I thought was off the charts, this book has went beyond that and Ms. Holly took it to another level in their relationship! I love that Ms. Holly showed the emotions of all three and just because they were living together they still had issues and they still had to work to make their relationship strong. Awesome book and I hope she writes more about them!

Monday, August 31, 2015


Cade Creek 8
Available Now!
As an undercover DEA agent, Dorian Michael James's life was all about intrigued. As president of the Dirty Dozen Motorcycle Club, it was all about danger. But everything he has worked for goes up in flames when he discovers a man tied up in the trunk of a drug dealer's car. With no other choice, Dorian throws away all his hard work and rescues the frightened man. But leaving Artie behind might not be possible, especially when the drug cartel Dorian is investigating thinks the man knows something. When saving Artie becomes more important than busting the bad guys, Dorian calls in some help from some old friends.
Life for Artie Mills was hard enough without being sold to a drug dealer by his jerk of a stepfather. He wasn't sure if meeting the gorgeous Dorian James was going to make it better or worse, but he damn sure wanted to find out. When someone close betrays them, not even Dorian's friends can protect him, Artie has to decide if he's going to continue to be a victim or prove to everyone that he's not a little bit of thing.

Christ on a crutch.
Dorian Michael James knew the gun deal he had been working on for the last two months had just gone to shit when he opened the trunk of the car and found himself staring at the softest honey brown eyes he had ever seen. They were red rimmed and filled with tears.
"Who's the kid?" he asked as he took in the discolored skin around the kid's wrists, no doubt due to the ropes tying his hands behind his back. His ankles were similarly tied and he had a gag in his mouth. He was not here willingly unless he was into some really kinky shit.
"His old man owed us some money," replied the guy standing next to Dorian. "He gave us the kid in trade."
Dorian already knew that the man standing next to him was the scum of the earth. He was a gun runner and drug dealer with a rap sheet longer than Dorian's arm. He had arrests from everything from assault to rape to attempted murder. Taking some kid in exchange for drug money owed him wouldn't even be a blip on the guy's radar.
Dorian turned his cold eyes on the slime ball next to him. "You brought a kid to a buy?"
For a moment, fear flashed in the other man's eyes. "It's not like he's gonna be a problem, Michaels. He's tied up."
"He's here. That's a problem."
"Now, look—"
"Deal's off." Dorian slammed the lid down on the Pontiac, already plotting as to how he could save the kid even as he turned to head back to his motorcycle. If he could get away from prying eyes, he could call in an anonymous tip and maybe have the cops save the kid.
"Hey, look, this guyain'tgonna be a problem,"Jazz Jenkins called out to Dorian's retreating back. "Me and the boys were just gonna have a little fun with him and then get rid of him, dump his body in the East River."
Dorian could barely keep his disgust out of his voice. The idiot was detailing a cold blooded murder. Dorian wanted to wrap his fist around the moron's throat and slam him into a wall while informing him of how much of an asshole he was. He just couldn't. He needed to see if he could save the kid while salvaging his gun deal.
He needed those guns.
"I don't like complications, Jazz." Dorian made sure to put every ounce of anger he had into his voice. He slowly turned and glared at the man. "Get rid of the kid."
Jazz's eyebrows shot up. "Now?"
Dorian pulled his pistol out of his shoulder holster and walked back to the car. He flipped the lid open and stared down into those frightened honey brown eyes again. The pull to continue standing there and just stare at the guy was overwhelming.
And dangerous.
His grip tightened on the butt of his gun as he tried not to raise the barrel and point it at Jazz. Instead, he held the gun out to the man. "Get rid of the kid or the deals off."
"But—" Jazz glanced down at the man in the trunk, a small shudder working through his slim frame.
Dorian knew he had pegged Jazz right. The man wanted to play with the kid in the trunk. He didn't want to kill him. He might order one of his lackeys to do it, but Jazz Jenkins was too much of a wimp to ever pull the trigger himself.
"Fine, if you won't do it…" Dorian cocked the gun and then pointed it at the kid. Those soulful eyes widened, filling with more tears. This time, the big drops slid down his pale cheeks. Dorian made a big show of pausing and tilting his head to the side. "How old is this kid?"
"Old enough,"Jazz snickered. His grin was lecherous and made Dorian's stomach roll. He seriously doubted Jazz ever cared about someone's age.
Dorian stared for another moment before slipping his gun back into the holster and then reaching into the trunk to lift the kid out. "Bear!" he called out to his second in command. "Come get this kid."
"Hey," Jazz said, "what are you doing?"
"Taking the kid."
"But you don't play with…I mean, you're a biker and…"
The and was obvious. Dorian rolled his eyes as he handed the bound kid to Bear. "A hole is a hole, dumbass. Shove their face in a pillow and he'll look like any other bitch on the planet."
Jazz's eyes followed after Bear as he carried the kid back over to their bikes. "He's a real pretty one."
"He won't be after I get done with him." Dorian snorted snidely as he crossed his arms. "Now, are we going to do this deal or not? Because if not, I have a bitch to fuck."
"Yeah, yeah." It seemed like almost more than Jazz could handle to turn away from Bear and the kid and back to face Dorian. "You got the money?"
Dorian cocked an eyebrow. "You got the merchandise?"
The exchange went fairly smoothly after that, barring how many times Jazz's eyes strayed to Bear and the kid. Dorian began to wonder if he was going to have problems with Jazz. The man seemed way to obsessed with the kid, more than someone should be even if he took the kid in trade for money owed him. Dorian couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the story than he knew.
"Hey, I think maybe I should take the kid with me."

"Will you come see me?"
Dorian tipped Artie's head up, brushing a gentle kiss over his lips. "Every chance I get, little bit."
This time when Artie melted into him, Dorian buried his hand in the man's shoulder length hair and tiled his mouth up, claiming it as his own. He traced the softness of Artie's lips before pushing his tongue between them, demanding entrance into Artie's mouth. Sighing, Artie opened to him, and he swept his tongue inside.
He kissed Artie, lingering, savoring. The man tasted sweet, delectable. Dorian wanted to consume him. The touch of Artie's tongue against his was a delicious sensation, one Dorian sank into as he devoured the man's mouth.
"Touch me, please," Artie begged in a low voice.
Dorian swung Artie around so the man was straddling his hips. Dorian doubted anyone in history had ever been grateful for a hospital gown but he was. It left him quite a bit of access to the practically naked man in his arms. Dorian's hands were everywhere, touching, exploring. He lifted Artie's gown up out of the way so that his hands could stroke Artie's naked skin.
He pushed against Artie, the hard cock trapped behind his zipper brushing up against Artie—like Artie's body had been made for him. Dorian groaned as Artie bore down and rubbed against him.
Dorian wanted to be buried inside Artie's sweet little ass. He wanted to wipe away all the bad memories and replace them with visions of the two of them together. He wanted to watch Artie come apart in his arms, but now wasn't the time. Besides the fact that anyone could walk in at any time, Artie had just suffered something pretty traumatic. He would need time.
Dorian started to lift his head when Artie whimpered.
"Please, I ache..."
Dorian almost swallowed his tongue when Artie leaned back and he got his first good look at Artie's weeping cock. The poor thing looked like it was about to explode. Keeping his eyes on Artie's, Dorian reached down and wrapped his hand around Artie's cock. When Artie moaned and thrust forward, Dorian did it again more firmly.
The man was like magic in his arms.
When he couldn't stand it anymore, Dorian reached down and unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock. In the blink of an eye, he had his hand wrapped around both their cocks, slowly stroking them together. Glancing down, Dorian saw pure pleasure flush Artie's cheeks as he squeezed his fingers around the two of them.
Dorian reached around and tentatively explored the cleft of Artie's ass. He wasn't sure if the man was ready for that. He had healed physically but mentally was all together different.
Artie groaned as he pushed back against Dorian's hand. "Please, Dorian," he gasped as he pushed back again. "I ache."
"Are you ready for me to touch you there, Artie?"
For a moment, the fog of passion cleared from Artie's eyes. "Just you."
"Just me, little bit," Dorian promised. He'd kill anyone else that tried to touch Artie like this.
He gently circled Artie's puckered entrance with his fingertips, stroking before pressing a single finger slowly into Artie's gripping heat. Artie whimpered as he arched back, his butt sticking out as if begging for more.
Dorian was entranced. He slowly thrust his finger in and out of Artie's tight ass with one hand and stroked their cocks with the other. The ecstasy on Artie's face would forever be emblazoned in his memories, something to pull out and fantasize about during those times when they were apart.
When his fingers brushed across Artie's sweet spot, Artie cried out. His hips thrust erratically against Dorian and the tight silken heat wrapped around Dorian's finger clamped down like a vise grip. Ropes of pearly white cum shot up, splattering across Dorian's hand and their cocks.
Dorian lifted Artie up and spun, taking the two steps to the hospital bed. He laid Artie out on the thin mattress and hovered over the top of him. Scooping up the cum splattered across Artie's abdomen, Dorian used it as lube and started frantically stroking his own cock from root to tip and then back again.
The sight of Artie laid out, the hospital gown up to his neck, baring his naked and sated body, was more than Dorian could handle. His balls drew up tight to his body and his hips snapped as he gave into the passion inspired by the nerdy little man splayed out before him.
Dorian clamped his mouth closed to keep from roaring as his orgasm slammed into him with the force of a freight train. Shot after shot of cum sprayed from his cock, covering Artie's groin and abdomen, his chest. There were even drops of cum on his chin.
Dorian's legs shook as he gave his cock a few more strokes before releasing it and reached for Artie. Something that had been burning deep in his gut settled when Artie easily went into his arms. Dorian carried him to the bathroom, carefully cleaning them both up. He zipped himself up and then helped Artie into a clean gown, tossing the old one into the hamper by the door.
Dorian lifted Artie up into his arms again and carried him back over to the chair by the window. He sat down, settled Artie on his lap then grabbed the blanket and covered him, tucking Artie's head under his chin.
Dorian brushed a hand through Artie's silky strands as he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple."You are adored, little bit," Dorian whispered. "I hope you know that."
There was a small whimper from the man in his arms. "I do now."

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

THE BEST PARTS (Cade Creek 7) by Stormy Glenn

Cade Creek 7
Coming July 23rd
Recovering from a car accident in the sleepy little town of Cade Creek should have been a dream come true, but for Noah Helmond, it has been nothing but a nightmare. Ostracized by everyone for things he couldn’t prevent, Noah is trying his level best to make amends. But even he has his limits and when the man he starts to fall for rips the truth out of him, Noah has to decide if it’s worth the risk to stay and fight for what they could have together or run.
Paul Rafferty loves being a fire fighter. It fulfills his need to protect those that can’t protect themselves. When he meets Noah and learns who the man is, he’s prepared to think the worst. But there’s something compelling in Noah’s sad eyes that make Raff think that there is more to the story than what he has been told. Getting Noah to admit that might be the hardest battle he’s ever fought.
When trouble comes looking for Noah, asking for help means revealing secrets Noah has kept hidden for years, ones that will not only tear his family apart but have a significant impact on more than one resident in Cade Creek, and that may be asking too much.

Paul Rafferty stood by the door and watched the sandy blond haired man that sat in the corner talking softly on the phone. He was trying to be professional and not drool, but damn, the guy was simply gorgeous. Raff could eat him up.
The furtive glances the man kept sending him made Raff wonder if the man might be interested in more than a simple hello. He quickly looked at the man’s ring finger. No ring. Hopefully, that meant no significant other as well.
Raff didn’t do married man.
He watched the man hang up the phone and hand it back to Elijah. The two men talked for a moment before Elijah went running out the door. As close as he knew Elijah was to his secretary, Raff had no doubt the man was on his way up to the hospital.
When the man stood and grabbed his backpack off the floor, Raff knew he couldn’t let him get away without at least introducing himself. If he was lucky, maybe he could make a date to meet the man for coffee later.
Raff glanced around to make sure none of his fellow firemen were watching before approaching the gorgeous man. He wasn’t ashamed of his desire to meet the stranger but he was technically on the clock. Flirting while on duty was a big no-no.
“You did good.”
The man’s jaw dropped for the briefest moment as he looked up, and then snapped shut. His eyes rounded as if he hadn’t expected anyone to talk to him. “Thank you,” he said in a rather subdued voice. “I didn’t do all that much.”
“You probably saved her life.” Raff grew curious when he heard the man’s soft inhale when Raff smiled. “Where did you learn CPR?” Raff found himself riddled with curiosity when the man’s face paled. What was that all about? “Are you okay?”
Maybe he was suffering from an adrenaline crash?
“Here, why don’t you sit down?” Before he fell down, because he looked like he was on the verge of collapsing. Raff started to reach out and take the man’s arm to lead him to a chair when he caught a flash of white and red. “You’re bleeding.”
“Oh this?” The man held up his hand, staring at it as if bleeding was an everyday occurrence for him. “I was in a car crash a couple of weeks ago. I must have busted the stitches open when I was giving Sandy CPR. It’s nothing.”
“Here, why don’t you sit down and let me take a look at that.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Sit,” Raff said in a stern tone.
Surprisingly, the man sat.
Raff grabbed the medical case and brought it over, setting it on the floor before reaching for the man’s injured hand. “Tell me if this hurts,” he said as he began unwrapping the bandage wrapped around the man’s hand. “I’m Raff.”
Raff grinned again. “Hello, Noah. It’s nice to meet you.”
The man blinked up at him. “Hello.”
He grimaced as he finished unwrapping the man’s injured hand. Noah’s fingers curled in toward his palm. From the way they were twisted, Raff wondered just how much use the man had in them. It didn’t look like much. There were also several small cuts sutured together, some of them bleeding. Raff cleaned them up and the covered the bleeding ones with butterfly bandages before re-wrapping the entire hand again.
“Are you new to Cade Creek?” As much as Raff wanted to keep Noah distracted with the random questions, he also wanted information. Like, did the man even like guys? From the way he stared and the occasional flaring of his nostrils, Raff was pretty sure he was on the right track.
“Um, sort of. I’m just here taking a care of some business.” Noah breathed in deeply and then kind of folded in on himself as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “I’m not staying.”
“That’s too bad. I was kind of hoping we could have coffee.”
Noah’s jaw dropped.
“Is that so strange?” Raff asked. “You are a very attractive man.”
“Do you know who I am?” The words were almost hissed out, the man’s blue eyes watering.
“You said your name is Noah.” Raff wouldn’t have forgotten that.
Noah stood, grabbing his backpack again before backing toward the door. Raff could tell he was going to run. Whatever was bringing tears to the man’s eyes must be so big that it was overwhelming everything else. Noah looked like he was about to collapse under his anguish.
“My name is Noah,” he whispered. “Noah Helmond.”
With that one name, Raff understood why the man had been so shocked by Raff’s interest. Jack and Hank were both enraged with Noah. They scowled every time they saw him or heard his name.
“And now you know,” Noah whispered with such rough acceptance of being the object of hatred that Raff ached for the man.
And then he was gone.

“You have beautiful eyes.”
Noah was envious of the easy smile that spread across Raff’s mouth at his words. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled or even felt the urge to smile. Happiness was something he had long ago given up. Maintaining his sanity was all he had left.
Raff’s hand moved to cuddle the side of Noah’s face, the touch gentle yet firm. “I’m kind of partial to blue eyes.”
Noah’s breath hitched as his throat grew thick. “Yeah?” His gaze dropped to Raff’s luscious lips. God, the things he wanted to do to those lips. Hell, the things he wanted those lips to do to him. He could build entire fantasies around them.
“You’re all wet.”
The amusement in Raff’s voice was laced with something else, something hot and needy and lust filled. Something that made Noah’s balls clench.
“We should probably get you out of these wet clothes.”
Noah just nodded. He was pretty much beyond speech at that point. Raff was staring down at him with such intensity, almost as if Noah was the most important person in the universe. No one had ever looked at him like that. No one had ever thought of him like that.
Seeing what he hoped was lust in Raff’s eyes, Noah prayed with everything in him and whispered, “Maybe you could help me with that?”
He would totally understand if Raff rejected his advances. What man in his right mind would get hooked up with someone as messed up as he was? Not only did he had a wife, a set of parents that doubled as Satan’s minions, and a woman out there carrying his child, but he couldn’t walk ten feet in Cade Creek without getting an angry glare.
He was the worst prospect in the history of prospects.
Raff really should run.
When Raff began to lift the hem of Noah’s shirt, Noah froze for a second. A quick glance around showed that no one could really see them. They were high enough above the town and far enough off the beaten path to be hidden, especially this early in the morning, and during the rain.
Noah raised his arms and allowed his shirt to be pulled up and off. Noah’s fingers tingled as he settled them on the tight muscles of Raff’s chest. Had there ever been a more perfect specimen of manhood ever built? Raff was the stuff dreams were made of.
Raff’s dark eyes grew steamy as he reached for the hem of Noah’s pajama bottoms, pushing them down Noah’s legs. Noah’s chest felt heavy as he stepped out of the soggy material and finally stood before Raff with no way to hide anything. He felt like he was baring his soul, not just his body.
When Raff growled and reached for him, yanking him close, Noah forgot to breath. When the man’s mouth settled over his in a kiss that curled his toes, Noah forgot to think. And when Raff’s massive hands began sliding over his wet skin, Noah forgot everything except the man holding him.
The press of Raff’s wide muscular body against his back made Noah feel small. The strong thick arms that encircled him made Noah feel safe and protected. The hard cock pushing against his ass through the thin material of Raff’s pajama bottoms made him feel aroused. He really wanted to feel the man’s hard cock against his naked skin.
Hell, he wanted to feel all of Raff against his naked skin, preferably with Raff just as naked.
Noah groaned.
He was in so much trouble.
Noah shivered at the feel of warm breath blowing across his neck. His eyes dropped closed as he tried to concentrate on the sounds around him, his breathing, the soft patter of rain on the roof, anything to drown out the feel of Raff’s hand stroking his skin as it slowly inched down toward his cock.
Noah ached. He needed. He cried out when that hand finally touched him. His body bucked, arching towards the hand touching him. His movements were met by a low deep chuckle from the man torturing him.
Noah’s head fell back against Raff’s chest when the man reached between them and grabbed his hard cock. The pressure was unbelievable. It was just strong enough to let Noah know Raff’s hand was there but light enough to keep him just on the edge of an orgasm.
It was pure torture.
Noah’s mouth dropped open as nearly silent whimpers of need broke free. Raff had one hand on Noah’s chest, gently pinching and tugging at his nipples. The other hand stroked Noah’s cock.
His body hummed with arousal.
“Please,” Noah pleaded, not really sure what he was begging for but knowing he needed something more.
“What do you need, baby?”
“Touch me,” Noah begged as he grabbed onto Raff’s hips to ground himself. “Please, touch me.”
Noah’s plea was instantly answered. Raff wrapped his hand back around Noah’s cock and stroked him. His other hand caressed Noah’s chest, moving back and forth between his nipples to play with them both. Raff’s lips moved from Noah’s ear to his neck, licking a path around to the edge of Noah’s jaw.
Noah’s body throbbed when Raff grabbed a fistful of his hair and angled his head up. When Raff’s mouth covered his, Noah felt all of the air in his lungs escape, leaving him breathless and wanting. The feel of Raff’s tongue brushing against his sent Noah into a tailspin of desire.
He dug his fingers into the hard thick muscles of Raff’s hips as the pressure building in his balls exploded out the top of his cock. Noah’s groan of completion was loud in the silence surrounding them as he covered Raff’s hand with white pearly seed.
“That’s it, baby,” Raff murmured against Noah’s lips. “Give it all to me.”