Sunday, October 19, 2014

Shifting the Veil - Preternatural Rescue Centre by Ellen cROSS

Shifting the Veil - Preternatural Rescue Centre book 9

Jumping through a Mage portal on some sort of instinctual autopilot probably hadn't been the best decision of Morgan’s life, but it did lead him to two pieces of his soul, trapped in not only a cage, but also their animal forms.
    Owen and Ridley never thought they'd be free again, living a life of captivity and pain, until a sexy Guardian breaks them out and offers them forever.
    While Ridley hungers for Morgan, Owen just wishes the mate-stealing merman would walk away and forget about them both. He may not have to worry about his future for long, though. It's Halloween, and the veil is once again at its weakest. Denzel has failed to break through before, but this time, he has a secret weapon…


    Morgan had to close his eyes as the soft tone of that one word floated across his senses. It sent a shiver to course through his body, and when he smiled back at the man, he had to remind himself that it was cold, and the little guy was naked.
    "My name's Morgan. What's yours?"
    "R-Ridley." Ridley looked over Morgan's shoulders until Morgan turned to face the cage. Ridley pointed to the otter. "That's Owen, my mate, and the komodo dragon is Kyle." Ridley groaned and closed his eyes, holding his stomach for a second, before he opened them and his expression cleared. Morgan wondered if it was a reaction from being locked in his animal form for so long. He'd have to keep a watch on it, just in case.
    "It's nice to meet you all." Morgan gave a nod toward each of them. At Ridley's sleeve-tug urging, Morgan slowly lowered him to his feet and took a step back, trying not to stare at the delicious little body in front of him. It was hard not to notice Ridley's compact little muscles, smooth and soft, just begging for attention. His semi-erection was also impossible to ignore, and Morgan cursed softly as he spun around, swiping one of the spare folded robes that were on a shelf a couple of footsteps away. He reached his arm back and offered it to Ridley, hoping the shifter covered his nakedness quickly. Morgan was trying to be considerate, goddamn it! All he wanted to do was lift Ridley up, urging him to wrap those slender ankles around his back, as he devoured every inch of the thick pouty lips the kid had. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thanking the gods when Ridley stepped back around him and headed toward the cage. He lifted Owen out, cuddling him to his chest as he turned and addressed Morgan.
    "Can you take off his ring, too?"
    Morgan gave Owen a small smile he didn't really feel like offering, considering the image of Ridley's naked body was still playing through his mind. But hey, Owen was his mate, too, and he couldn't wait to see if he was just as cute in the flesh, as Ridley was.
    He picked up the same bolt cutters he had used on Ridley, gesturing that he help him.
    "Just hold him still. These things aren't the best tool for the job."
    Ridley held out Owens back leg, presenting the metal ring as he leaned down and whispered encouragement into Owen's ear. Owen turned and nose-kissed Ridley's cheek, before fixing a glare at Morgan. It was obvious the Otter was staking a claim, and a challenge had been thrown down. Morgan couldn't wait, and grinned as he shook his head.
    "I'm not taking your mate away from you, Owen, so just relax. I have plans for you both."
    Owen squeaked and grunted, jerking in Ridley's arms.
    "Now, now, cut that out! You have to know we three are mates. This close to you, the pull is like nothing I have ever felt before."
    "I feel it," Ridley whispered, a crimson flaring across his cheeks as he blushed, and Morgan had to wonder if his little rabbit mate could get anymore adorable.
    The ring fell from Owen's leg, hitting the floor and rolling beneath a bench. Owen started to shake in Ridley's hands, and Morgan jumped into action, grabbing Owen and taking him from Ridley—much to Ridley's cry of dismay.
    "Calm down, my little bunny. I would imagine Owen is bigger than you, right?" At Ridley's nod, Morgan added, "So how do you think you'd be able to hold him while he shifts?"
    Ridley didn't answer, but looked relieved when Owen's human form finally appeared. Owen filled Morgan's arms for all of a second, before the guy pushed at his chest so hard, he almost fell backwards onto the ground. He caught himself at the last moment and landed on his hands and knees. He stood and stalked to the same shelf Morgan had found Ridley a robe, grabbing one of the top of the small pile and wrapping it around himself in angry movements. He spun and held up a finger toward Morgan, as if he were a mother scolding a child.
    "Keep your hands away from my mate!"
    Gods help him, but Morgan found that a challenge he couldn't walk away from. The brunette was bigger than Ridley by a good few inches, with a little extra padding that Morgan couldn't wait to explore. He took a large step forward, bringing him nose to nose with the slightly shorter man.
    "Or what?"
     Owens's melted dark chocolate eyes widened. He inhaled deeply, and Morgan grinned when the guy's irises dilated as he swayed a little. Looks like he'd finally picked up Morgan's scent and realized Morgan had been telling the truth about being mates.
    "Just hit ya, did it? I take it your otter's nose was a bit stuffed up?"
    Owen groaned and shook his head, snapping his angry face back in place and shooting Morgan another dirty look. The clenched jaw and lines of tension around his eyes and mouth seemed to have to do with more than just protectiveness over Ridley.
    "I don't give a fuck what you think. Ridley's mine!"

Saturday, October 18, 2014


by Mychael Black
Torquere Press

Detectives Jonah and Riley Pierce are back with a new case for Arcanum, and this one is full of surprises! Erin Grey, lead singer for the gothic metal band Grey's Valentine, has a stalker, and not just any stalker. He turns to Arcanum for help… and gets the shock of his life.

With the help of another detective, Christian Knight, the Arcanum guys race to catch the stalker before Erin's biggest secret leads to his death.


Maryland, August 2010

"What in God's name are you listening to?"

"Grey's Valentine."

Jonah Pierce crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "Grey's Valentine? Sounds like the name of a soap opera gone bad, Riley."

Riley rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Shut up. I have to listen to your nonstop classic rock all the time. You could use some education in the goth metal department."

Jonah watched his brother, Riley's nimble fingers practically flying over the keyboard. Just a few hours ago, those fingers had gripped Jonah's hair as he demonstrated an unauthorized use of department desks. Technically, they shouldn't do so much as kiss at work. The whole fraternization thing, coupled with the being brothers bit, didn't look very good. But then, sometimes, Jonah just needed Riley, in whatever way he could get the man.

"What are you doing anyway?"

"Finishing up the reports for that last case," Riley answered. "Oh, Lane says hi, too. He emailed me."

"He probably thinks I forgot to reply when he sent me one. I got... busy."

Riley stopped typing and smirked. "Next time we fuck on a desk, I'm topping. My back is still sore."

Jonah bit his tongue before he could argue. As vampires, they both healed quickly, but he sure as hell wouldn't turn down the chance to bottom. Riley, despite being slimmer and a few inches shorter, had a wicked streak that made Jonah's toes curl. They'd only brushed the surface, and Jonah knew damn well he'd let Riley do anything the man wanted.

The phone rang and Riley answered, not missing a beat in his typing. "Detective Pierce, Arcanum Division." A few seconds passed and then Riley chuckled. "There's two of us. I'm the nice one." He winked at Jonah, obviously ignoring Jonah's glare. "What can I do for you, Mr...?" He listened, then stopped typing altogether. "I see. When did this start?"

Curiosity got the better of Jonah and he shut the door behind him. Taking a seat on the corner of his brother's desk, he waited patiently.

"When will Mr. Grey be back in town? I think it best to get the full story directly from him." Riley nodded. "Yes, evening will be fine. We keep... odd hours here. A few of us are of the nocturnal sort, if you catch my drift." Riley grabbed a pen and scribbled something on a slip of paper. "Seven-thirty, Tuesday. Got it. Tell Mr. Grey we'll see him then." He hung up and sat back, blinking at the paper.


"We're meeting Erin Grey," Riley said, sounding more than a bit stunned.


Riley looked up at Jonah. "The lead singer of Grey's Valentine."

"Why are we meeting him? Surely you're not that hard-up for an autograph."

Riley scowled. "Fuck you."

"Gladly," Jonah said with a grin. "Seriously, what's going on?"

"Apparently Grey has gained himself a rather obsessed fan."

"Isn't this better suited to normal police departments?"

"Not when the fan vanishes in plain sight."


Friday, October 10, 2014

With Proper Maintenance by C.V. Madison

Named the youngest head engineer in the history of his company, Ethan Cole’s first voyage on the Platinum Bow is his chance to stand out from hisfather’s shadow. His dream is dashed by the roguish Cecil Goode, promoted to Ethan’s position just before the ship sets sail. When the Bow is hijacked by pirates, Ethan and Cecil have to work together to bring the pirates’ nearly wrecked ship to safety. Will they make it to port before the ship plummets from the sky? And what will become of the combustible passion between them? Will it outlast the pirate attack?

Book buy links:

If you buy your copy of With Proper Maintenance from the Jupiter Gardens Press website and use the promo code GAYSTEAM, you get a copy of Angelia Sparrow's steampunk story Sky Rat for $0.99!

Giveaway codes:

Blog Dates
Oct 10 Lorraine Pearl
Oct 11 Yeah Books!
Oct 14th Caffeine Crew

Excerpt 1
Ethan signed the bottom of the requisition form and gave the list another once-over. Accuracy was the key to a clean, tight, steam-powered airship. All forms were submitted in triplicate with neat, easy to read handwriting. Two copies would be on the captain’s desk within the hour, just as promised.
Three sharp raps brought him from his work as he finished the final pen stroke. Ethan set aside his quill, careful not to spill ink or make a mis-mark on the copied requisition forms, and pulled open the door.
Captain Quinn, a tall man with a head of thick black hair,  a lantern jaw with a cleft chin and, presently, five-o-clock shadow, filled the doorway. He wore no coat and tie, his shirt was unfastened three buttons down and his trousers hung wrinkled. Ethan hoped he covered his shock at the captain’s attire.
Good evening, Engineer Cole. I hope I find you well.”
Indeed. What might I do for you, Captain?”
Have you walked through the engine compartment? Is everything satisfactory for departure?”
I found a few pieces in need of attention. I am duplicating requisition forms now, sir.”
Requisition form?” The captain’s thick fingers pinched the corner and plucked the crisp page from Ethan’s grasp. “I can’t even read this.”
Ethan’s cheeks heated. How could he have been so foolish as to keep the original in hand when he answered the door?
I will make the submitted forms legible.”
Tut, tut, tut.” The captain wagged a stout finger and leaned in, his cologne mixing with the bourbon on his breath. “You come highly recommended. I have no worry. Go, find what you need, stop off at the office on the way back and give them your forms. I can’t exactly allow them to see me like this and expect to keep my job, now can I?”
Ethan shook his head and took a step back. The captain weaved in the doorway and, thankfully, returned from whence he came. Once the pervasive odor of stale bedsheets and hair oil dissipated, Ethan drew a breath of relief. If the captain didn’t dry out, Ethan would be certain they wouldn’t leave port. A captain should keep his wits about him at all times. At any point a mechanical failure or invading ship could kill an entire crew. Ethan would not become another casualty of piracy.

About the author
C.V. Madison is a licensed massage therapist, author, feminist and gamer full of schadenfreude pie and Mountain Dew. She pens urban fantasy, horror and steampunk with a side of heavy romance. Her characters are straight, LGBTQIA and some shades not on the spectrum. She has been published in both fiction and non-fiction anthologies.
Through the month of November, she can be found in local coffee houses, over caffeinated and armed with her trusty laptop as she strives to bang out 50,000 words in 30 days for National Novel Writer’s Month. She serves as a Municipal Liaison for Columbus, Ohio.
She is a writer for the Caffeine Crew and does book reviews and promotion for the Yeah Books! Blog.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014


COMING 10.09.14

Rafeal Connell is a very serious Dom, and he wanted Denny the moment he spotted the sexy little man dancing at Dante’s Dungeon. Rafe is used to getting what and who he wants. When Danny refuses, it sends Rafe into a whirlwind of arousal and confusion, especially since he knows the little submissive is interested.
Denny has desired Rafe since the moment he spotted the handsome Dom. He’s trained, planned, and did everything he could to get the man interested. And according to Rafe’s friends, that means playing hard to get, not an easy task when all Denny can think about is claiming his Dom.
But there’s someone else that has been watching Denny and he’s determined to have the submissive at any costs.
Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.

“Fuck me raw!”
“Stunning, isn’t he, Rafe?”
“Breathtaking,” Rafael Connell whispered in awe as he watched the sexiest man he had ever laid eyes on dance his way across the top of the bar counter. His hips undulated, moving to and fro, as he swayed to the beat of the music like the tempo was created just for him.
The tight, black leather pants hugged his ass but hung low on his hips, giving the audience a glimpse of the man’s tight abdomen. The low lights of the club did nothing to hide the rippled muscles on display, nor the matching silver rings in his pierced nipples.
The man wore no jewelry other than the nipple rings, no collar of ownership. He wasn’t even wearing a shirt. His only accessories seemed to be a pair of black leather boots, a Celtic sun tattoo encircling his belly button, and a long braid of sandy-blond hair.
“Who the hell is he?” Rafe asked. He realized he had been gone from the club for several weeks, but it hadn’t been that long. Could this man have suddenly appeared while he was off on a business trip?
Michael shrugged. “We call him D, but that is only because he won’t give anyone his real name. He showed up here about two weeks after you left for Hong Kong. He’s been coming in every Saturday since.”
“Yeah, just about.” Michael chuckled. “He sets the place on fire every damn weekend. It’s quite the sight to see.”
Rafe took a few steps closer. He had to get a better look. This man was glorious. Rafe could tell D was a submissive. His true nature showed in the way he moved, the way he lost himself to the music. Rafe bet he would lose himself the same way under the hands of his master, and Rafe wanted to be that master.
“Uh, Rafe?” Michael called out as Rafe took another step closer, his gaze riveted on the show just feet from where he stood. “He doesn’t go home with anyone, ever.”
Rafe glanced over his shoulder, smiling confidently. “He’ll go home with me.”
Michael looked doubtful. Rafe didn’t share his uncertainty. He’d been dominating other men as long as he’d known what to do with his dick. If this man’s whole demeanor wasn’t screaming master me, Rafe would eat his hat.
If he had a hat.
The music ended just as Rafe reached the edge of the dance floor. The man moved to the edge of the bar and made ready to jump down. Rafe quickly stepped in to play, holding his hand out to help the gorgeous man to the floor.
A perfectly manicured eyebrow arched, and then D took Rafe’s hand, jumping down from the bar to land next to him. A slow, sensuous grin began to play across D’s lips as he looked Rafe up and down.
“My knight in shining armor,” D drawled, not letting go of Rafe’s hand.
Rafe smirked. “Would you be the damsel in distress then?”
“Hardly.” The man chuckled. Rafe was surprised how much the soft laughter filled up the space around them, giving off an air of raw lust to anyone lucky enough to hear it. The sound sent a shiver of anticipation up Rafe’s spine. “I’m much better equipped than any damsel.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” Rafe asked, and then grinned. “Or a car?”
D chuckled again, withdrawing his hand. “While I appreciate the thought, I’m afraid I have to say no.” His head tilted to one side, a lock of sandy-blond hair falling over his cheek. “I already have a car.”
“Then how about that drink?”
“I have one of those, too.” D signaled the bartender, who brought him a fresh, still-sealed bottle of water. D nodded to the bartender, unscrewed the lid, breaking the seal, and then took a long drink.
Rafe groaned as he watched D’s throat muscles move as he swallowed. Oh, he was perfect. Rafe just bet D could suck cock and swallow with the best of them. He couldn’t wait to find out.
“So what can I get you then?”
“Who says I need anything?” D asked as he lowered the bottle from his lips and eyed Rafe.
“Are you saying I don’t have anything you might be interested in?” Rafe asked as he stood back and let the man look his fill.
And look he did.
Rafe felt D’s soft, grass-green eyes move over every inch of his body, down to his toes, then slowly, slowly back up. Rafe’s cock began to harden by the time the man’s eyes reached his knees. At his groin, he was marble hard. By the time the D’s gaze reached his chest, Rafe was afraid he’d come in his pants like an untried teenager.
The sexual tension arcing between them could have set the room on fire. Rafe was positive D felt it. His tanned skin was just a little too flushed. His eyes held a special sparkle that only a man very interested could have. And the impressive bulge in his pants screamed his need, a need Rafe desperately wanted to fill.
D smirked. “Oh, you have plenty I’d be interested in.” He set his bottled water down on the countertop, reached for his shirt, and pulled it on. “Unfortunately, I think you’d end up breaking my heart, and I’m not sure you’re that sexy.” The man’s eyes made another quick perusal of Rafe’s body, and his head cocked to one side. “Of course, I could be wrong.”
Rafe’s mouth dropped open as shock rocketed through him. The submissive of his dreams was turning and walking away. He couldn’t believe it. Subs never left him. He did the leaving. He watched D as he worked his way through the crowd then out the door.
“Struck out, did you?”
Rafe turned to glare at Michael.
Michael chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, man, but I warned you. D doesn’t go home with anyone.”
“Who is he?”


“Do you like that, angel?”
“Please, sir.”
Rafe closed his eyes for a moment, Denny’s soft plea washing over him like a tidal wave. He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere close to teaching Denny what he liked tonight. The need to fuck the man overwhelmed him. Rafe had to keep reminding himself that wasn’t part of the deal.
Denny whimpered when he stepped away and grinned. “I told you I like to watch, angel. Do you?” Rafe smirked at the small whimper that fell from Denny’s lips. It sounded like need… a need Rafe had every intention of filling. “No, I think I’ll keep you blindfolded. Maybe I will keep you blindfolded for the entire week, let you wonder what I am going to do to you next. Does that idea excite you, angel?”
He kicked his shoes to one side then reached for the buttons on his pants and undid them. He pushed his pants down his legs. Rafe watched Denny as folded his slacks and set them on top of his shoes. He moved closer to Denny and trailed his hand over the man’s abdomen as he stepped around him.
“I’m just as naked as you are now, angel,” Rafe whispered into Denny’s hair as he stepped up behind the man and pushed his hard cock against Denny’s backside. “Can you feel how much I want you?”
Rafe grabbed his cock and dragged it down the crease of Denny’s ass before stepping back. Despite Denny’s insistence that there be no penetration, the man was practically begging for it, pushing back against Rafe, his entire body shuddering.
“Does your rule about no penetration mean everything, or am I allowed to play with you a bit?”
Denny whimpered. “Everything, sir.”
Rafe was disappointed, but he had never broken the rules of a contract, and he wasn’t about to start now. However, the rules said nothing about playing with Denny’s cock. Rafe grinned as he reached down and wrapped his fingers around the hard shaft. Denny whimpered and thrust against his hand.
“Do I need to tie you down to keep you still, angel?” Rafe’s eyebrows shot up when he felt Denny shudder against him. “I think you like that idea, don’t you, angel?”
As much as he wanted to be balls-deep inside Denny in the next few seconds, the thought of having Denny bound while he fucked his mouth sent Rafe into a frenzy of need. Both ideas drove Rafe out of his mind, especially when Denny groaned and thrust against him. The man was begging to be fucked, and Rafe was dying to give him what he wanted. It nearly killed him not to be able to do exactly that.
Denny needed to know right from the beginning who was the Dom and who was the sub. Rafe dropped his fingers from around Denny’s cock and walked across the room to the remote.
“Hold on, angel.” Rafe hit the remote and watched Denny lower to the floor, his arms still held high by the hook in the ceiling. By the time Rafe hit the stop button with one hand, he had the other one wrapped around his cock to keep himself from coming before he could fuck Denny.
The sight of his angel bound with his hands in the air and kneeling on the floor was nearly too much for him. It would be too much for any man. Just another picture Rafe needed taken of the man. He decided he was buying a camera first thing in the morning. Right now, Rafe had a sub that needed his undivided attention.
Rafe walked back over to Denny and stood between the man’s spread thighs. He grabbed his cock and nudged the head against Denny’s lips until the man opened up and took him in.
Rafe liked having his hands free. As soon as Denny took him in, Rafe reached up and grabbed the chains holding Denny’s hands above his head. He watched as his cock slowly breached the man’s lips. Inch by slow inch, Rafe pushed in, until he felt his balls press up against Denny’s chin.
“You are so fucking good at this, angel.” Rafe sucked in a hissing breath as he took a moment to savor the feeling of Denny sucking his cock. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything so good in his life, and he’d been with a lot of subs.
Rafe watched again as he pulled out until just the head of his cock remained inside Denny’s mouth. It was almost as fascinating to watch as it was to feel. Rafe pushed back in slowly, not wanting things to be over too soon, not this time, this first time. He imagined he’d be fucking Denny’s mouth many times over the next week, but there was only one first time with a new sub.
“Fuck, angel,” Rafe groaned.

POPPY’S PLEASURE by Stormy Glenn

Assassin’s Pride 2
Poppy lives in hell and has for as long as he could remember. The only bright spot he has seen in years is another prisoner being held in the cell next to him. If he can save Marcus, Poppy knows that he will have done at least one good thing in his life. He just had to find Marcus's friends and let them know that they are being led into a trap…and then go back to hell.
Dean Stone is an assassin. He's cold, hard, and without remorse. He's also pretty damn sure that he has stepped into a crazy world. His friend, Gage, has mated with the cat king of a pride. His other friends are missing and the agency he works for is a complete mess. What's crazier than that?
When Dean goes to the place where he's supposed to pick Marcus up, he finds something else altogether. Poppy is sweet and innocent and about as sexy as he could possibly be. He is also scared out of his mind and clinging to Dean like a second skin. And Dean doesn't have the heart to deny the man, even when taking care of Poppy turns into a full-time job.
But when danger arrives on their doorstep, Dean's training as an assassin comes in handy, especially when Poppy is kidnapped by the same men that held him in the first place. And Dean has no remorse whatsoever about killing anyone that stands between him and the man he's falling for.

Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.

Dean Stone chuckled. His sandy-blond hair, longer now, brushed against his cheeks as he shook his head. He leaned back against the wall behind him and he watched as his friend Gage argued with Noah, the man’s boyfriend, or partner, mate, whatever the little fur ball was to the former assassin. Noah Andrews was also the king of the cats or some such shit like that.
Dean was still trying to figure it all out.
What he did know was, despite the fact that Gage Tynan had grown from a man who was a couple of inches shorter than Dean to someone who stood a few inches taller than him and topped him by at least twenty pounds, it was Gage’s little five-foot-six mate that ruled his life. Noah had Gage firmly wrapped around his furry little finger. Apparently, the increased size was a side effect of mating with Noah, the cat king. Gage’s very human body grew to whatever size was needed for Gage to become Noah’s guardian.
The fact that Noah could shape-shift into a house cat was just an added bonus for cannon fodder. Dean was still reeling from learning that shape-shifters lived outside of Hollywood movies. And now, not only was he friends with the king of cats, he was living in the pride’s damn house.
I had to have been dropped on my head as a baby.
That was the only way to explain it.
“Gage.” Dean held up his hand to stop the arguing couple. His head was starting to ache from watching Gage and Noah go back and forth. Gage wanted to go with Dean to get Marcus. Noah wanted him to stay home where he would be safe. “I am perfectly capable of going to this meeting on my own. I’m a big boy, I promise. I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. I can even go to the bathroom all by myself.”
Gage growled.
Dean smirked with amusement. The whole growling thing was not necessarily new. Gage always growled. Now he just did it with more flair. “Dude, seriously, sheathe the claws. I’m just going to pick up Marcus in town and bring him back here. It’s not like this is a mission or anything,” he said with a touch of an attitude in his voice. “If I stub my toe, I promise to call you right away.” Dean bristled a little bit that Gage seemed to have so little faith in him. He had been at the agency almost as long as Gage. He had been going out on missions for years. He wasn’t stupid. He knew how to be cautious.
Dean clenched his hands, hiding them by crossing his arms over his chest and tucking them under his arms as he pushed away from the wall. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me, Gage.”
“Of course I trust you, Dean.” Gage pushed a frustrated hand through his short hair. “I just—” Gage’s lips twisted as he grimaced. “I don’t like the way this is going. We still haven’t heard from Steele, and Trent isn’t answering any of our phone calls. This smells of a setup to me.”
Dean arched an eyebrow. “You think Marcus set us up?”
“No, I think Marcus is being used as bait to set us up.”
Dean couldn’t argue with that theory. Except for a single phone call two weeks ago to arrange a time and place for pick up, they hadn’t heard from Marcus at all. And Gage was right. They still didn’t know where Steele was. He had simply disappeared.
Almost every single mission that Gage, Dean, Marcus, and Steele had been assigned to in the last few months had gone wrong somehow. Either the target was off or in the wrong place. The locations were questionable, and there was absolutely no backup. There’s no way in hell intel got screwed up that badly that many times. It was all starting to add up to someone in the agency setting them up.
Dean’s money was on Gregory Trent, the head of their black ops division in the Company. He was the man that handed out the assignments and gave them their information, even if he got it somewhere else. Trent was the one that decided if the information was good or not, and then passed it along to them. Trent was also the one that started acting strange just about the same time the missions started going bad.
Dean wasn’t a genius by any means, but even he could add one and one and come up with a good theory. Over the last few months, Trent had gotten weird. He received phone calls that he always took in private, had meetings with people behind closed doors, and went off for days at a time. Trent had never been like that in the past. He had always been a standup guy even if he was a tad standoffish.
“Would you be happier if I took Braden or Jonas with me?” In the weeks since he met the lion-shifters, he had grown to respect them as much as he did Gage—and that said a lot. Gage, Marcus, and Steele were pretty much the only people Dean trusted to guard his back. He used to trust Trent just as much, but that started to fade when Trent began keeping secrets and acting all mysterious-like.
Gage’s eyebrows shot up. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, sure.” Dean shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt for them to see how a professional does it.”
Gage chuckled and nodded even as he wrapped an arm around his much shorter mate and pulled Noah to his side. “I’d appreciate it, Dean. Until we get a chance to talk to Marcus and find out where Steele is, you’re the only one from the agency that I trust. I’d really feel a lot better if you took some backup.”
Dean rolled his eyes. It wasn’t a mission, but a simple retrieval—child’s play in his book. But he didn’t feel like arguing the point to death with Gage. The man could be just as stubborn, if not more so, than Dean.
“Consider it done.” Dean turned and started for the door when Noah’s hesitant voice stopped him. He paused at the doorway and glanced over his shoulder at the little runt.
“Be careful, okay?” Noah asked.
Dean grinned and winked at the smaller man, gaining a slight growl from Gage. God, it was too easy to screw with these two. “Sure thing, pussycat.”


“Come on, Poppy. We’re going to head up to our room before Noah uses your innards to knit an afghan.” He swung Poppy up over his shoulder, saluted Gage and Noah, and carried the laughing little man out of the room.
Poppy laughed all of the way up the stairs and down the hallway to their bedroom. Dean just shrugged when people stopped to stared at them—well, Poppy specifically. There really was no way to explain Poppy’s condition without explaining his past and that was only for Poppy to tell. If he wanted people to know, he’d tell them.
Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the bedroom and walked in, shutting the door behind him. He walked over to the bed and swung Poppy off his shoulder, dropping him into the middle of the bed.
He pulled Poppy’s bathrobe off and tossed it into a chair then kicked his own shoes off. Dean stretched out on the bed beside Poppy. When Poppy finally stopped laughing, he turned to look at Dean. There was a glassy look in Poppy’s green eyes that said he was still high as a kite.
Dean chuckled and reached over to brush Poppy’s hair back from his face. “How are you feeling, Poppy?”
“I hurt, Master.”
“You hurt?” Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position and glanced down the length of Poppy’s body. He couldn’t see anything wrong with Poppy. He looked fine. Maybe he was getting a stomachache from all that sugar. “Where?”
Poppy’s face flushed as he grabbed his groin. “Here.”
Dean swallowed hard as every ounce of blood in his body flowed south. “Let me see.”
Poppy didn’t hesitate at all as he raised the oversized shirt he wore up to his chest and exposed the beautiful erection jutting out from his groin.
“Oh, hell.” Dean licked his lips. They had gone as dry as the Sahara Desert all of a sudden. His throat wasn’t doing much better. It felt so thick he could barely get air down into his lungs. “Would you like me to make it better, Poppy?”
He should be shot for asking but…
“Please, Master.”
Yeah, he was going to go to hell for this.
He just knew it.
Dean scooted up to the top of the bed and then gestured for Poppy to join him. When Poppy got to his side, Dean lifted the man up and over his chest. He kept his eyes locked on Poppy’s as he leaned forward and sucked the head of Poppy’s cock into his mouth.
“Master!” Poppy wailed.
When Poppy wiggled to get away, Dean tightened his grip on Poppy’s hips and held him in place. He sucked Poppy’s hard cock further into his mouth, carefully listening for any sounds that said Poppy didn’t want this.
Instead, deep moans filled his ears and Poppy pressed forward with his hips. Dean almost grinned, but that would have meant letting go of the cock in his mouth and he wasn’t about to do that. Instead, Dean grabbed the edges of Poppy’s shirt in his hand and lifted it up until Poppy pulled it over his head and tossed it away.
Now the man was totally naked in Dean’s arms. Well, on his chest, but it was essentially the same thing. Poppy was naked. Dean started sucking long and hard as he reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand.
Behind Poppy’s back, he flipped the lid and poured some out on his fingers. He closed the lid with the other hand and set the lube bottle down on his chest. He pulled off of Poppy’s cock long enough to tell the man to grab the headboard, and then he sucked him right back down.
When Poppy grabbed the headboard, it changed the angle for both of them. Poppy’s cock now hung hard and long right over Dean’s face, making it easier to lick the sides and get to Poppy’s balls.
It also made it easier for Dean to reach Poppy’s ass. Dean kept his lips locked firmly around Poppy’s cock as he stroked his fingers lightly over the crack of Poppy’s ass. He knew the moment his fingers brushed against Poppy’s hole because the man suddenly stilled and a long keening noise filled the room.
Swallowing Poppy’s erection to the root, Dean pushed one finger into Poppy’s ass. It was only as his finger slid easily in that Dean remembered what Gage had told him. When he was aroused, his pheromones would tell Poppy’s body that he was about to be claimed by his mate.
Dean didn’t have to stretch him out.
Still, he wanted to be really, really sure. He would never do anything that would hurt Poppy, and fucking him with no lube would hurt like the dickens. He wiggled his finger for a moment and then pushed in another finger.
With his free hand, Dean reached up between their bodies and tugged on one of Poppy’s pert, brown-hued nipples. Poppy’s cries grew louder as he started humping Dean’s face. Dean stroked his hand all over Poppy’s chest and abdomen, flicking his fingernails over Poppy’s little buds.
At the same time, he pushed a third finger into Poppy’s tight ass, fucking him with all three digits. Using his tongue, Dean laved the tender depression beneath the swollen crown of Poppy’s cock then tongue-fucked the tiny slit, licking away the salty taste of Poppy’s essence.