Alex Klein, professional photographer, leads a blessed life with a supportive family and longtime lover Harley Scott, a successful PI. However, everything is about to unravel. He found peace in the arms of Harley after suffering from night terrors most of his life. Now the night terrors are back and his new assignment in Seattle may be the cause.
While he struggles to control his fears, back in St. Louis, Harley unravels a secret that could destroy the life they’ve created together. Maggie Reynolds is a convicted murderer, former member of a violent gang that terrorized the West Coast in the 1980’s. She may also be Alex’s birth mother, finally free after 25 years in prison. Positive his lover is in danger Harley heads to Seattle to save him from a mysterious stalker not beyond using murder to get what she wants. Are Maggie and the stalker one and the same?
Sometimes no matter how many lies you weave the past will come back to bite you in the ass. An intricate web of blood and deception, over two decades in the making, has Alex beginning to question his entire identity. Can he free himself from his past before it claims everyone he loves?
Lightning cast an eerie glow along the underbelly of churning clouds that rolled in from the west, looming over the twinkling lights of downtown St. Louis, sheer drapes whipping into a frenzy of twisted fabric in the wind. In the distance, the mournful call of a barge’s horn echoed across the waters of the river as it meandered south to New Orleans in a serpentine path. He slid from the bed and padded naked across the carpeted floor to where the doors stood open. In between the flurry of drapes, he caught a glimpse of a figure standing on the balcony, outlined by the occasional flash of lightning. Cautiously he stepped around the twisting drapes and moved towards the figure on tiptoes, lurching forward to wrap his arms around it in a bear hug.
“You think you’re funny—don’t you?”
Harley leaned in to tug on his lover’s earlobe mischievously with his teeth and whispered in his ear, “Nope.” He sighed softly and left a trail of damp kisses down the other man’s throat and back to his ear, to whisper again, “Couldn’t sleep, Alex?”
Turning into his embrace, Alex smiled up at him. “I never can during storms,” he confessed, dark eyebrows drawn together in a frown over haunted eyes the color of burnished walnut.
Playful light filled Harley’s gaze as he leaned forward until their noses were brushing and they were breathing one another’s air. “I’m sure we can think of something to occupy your time and wear you out.”
“Not now.” Alex snorted and pressed a quick kiss to Harley’s cheek before turning back to retrieve his favorite camera from the ledge—an EOS Rebel XSi. “You know I have to be up early for my flight to Seattle.”
Sighing in frustration, Harley brushed his fingers through his bristle of dishwater blonde hair, blue-green eyes lifting to the stormy sky. “Shame, because I always wanted to fuck you in a rain storm.”
Another snort escaped Alex as he lifted his camera, honing in on the shimmer of the Gateway Arch in the distance, lightning refracting off its stainless steel skin in an opalescent glow. Hands firm and steady despite the roll of thunder and the increasing wind, he snapped a picture, catching the eerie luminescence on the huge landmark. “Where and when don’t you want to do that, you horny toad?”
Harley wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, buried his nose in his thick brunette locks, and inhaled the spicy scent of sandalwood, hands caressing Alex’s bare stomach. His fingers tickled just above the elastic band of Alex’s pajama pants. “You do realize that if you screw a toad you get a prince.”
A chuckle reverberated through Alex’s chest as he snapped another picture. “That’s kissing, not fucking, pain in my ass. I doubt the innocent princess would have hiked her skirts for a quick bone with a toad anyway.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath as Harley’s fingers slid beneath his waistband, teasing along the edge of his hip. “Harley…” Breath with an edge of warning hissed from between his lips.
“What?” Harley purred into his ear, nipping gently along its curve, down to suck at the spot of flesh just behind.
“Seattle.” He moaned deep in his throat as the questing fingers slid lower to curl around his half-hard cock.