Sunday, September 28, 2014

Patchwork Heaven by Jaime Samms

Description:
Singer Coby Kennedy and his drummer twin, Bruce, have a band called Patchwork Heaven. They have been rising steadily up the country music charts, but unfortunately, that rise has attracted unwanted attention. Faced with anonymous letters, sinister gifts, and the wanton destruction of their personal space, they hire The Detail, a specialized security firm. Coby never anticipated Gregor, The Detail's owner and his personal guard, would be quite so intriguing. 

As the stalker gets closer and more violent and questions pile up, Gregor fears his past might get in the way of him finding who is threatening his client when he becomes suspect number one. Even though Coby is convinced Gregor is not behind the threat, Gregor is not sure he's the right man to keep Coby safe, either from the stalker, or from his own interest in the singer.
 


Ecerpt:
 “Thought you weren’t going to get your rocks off with your boss,” Coby murmured as he leaned back and rested his head on Gregor’s shoulder. It was nice to have someone he could do that with. Most guys were inches shorter than he. Gregor was thin, lanky, but as tall as Coby. He liked the feel of that.
“Three things,” Gregor replied, dropping a kiss on the side of Coby’s neck. “First, I’m off duty, so you’re not my boss.”
“Okay.” Coby was willing to agree to that slight stretching of the definition.
“Second, I admit, more than a couple of my own guys are breathing a sigh of relief right now, watching this. Apparently, I’ve been a little… tense lately.”
“Really?” Coby resisted the urge to glance around the room at the cameras he knew were there. It would hardly be the first time he had an audience for a couple of kisses. Sometimes, you compromised privacy for security in his line of work. Closed-circuit cameras in the public portions of his home were a necessary precaution. Especially now. The private areas, however, were nonnegotiable and his staff knew it.
“What’s the third thing?” he asked, tipping his head away to give Gregor more access to bare skin. He reached back to find purchase for his questing hands on Gregor’s legs behind him.
“Third?” Gregor licked a trail up the side of Coby’s neck to his earlobe, kissed it, then nipped it. Hard, and held on.
Coby barely resisted the instinct to pull away despite the pain and surprise. He went very still, and a tingle traveled down his body.
Gregor released his earlobe to whisper. “Third, this isn’t about getting my rocks off at all.”
Coby swallowed. “It isn’t?”
“Put your hands on the counter, Coby.”
Heart speeding up, brows drawing down, Coby slowly did as he’d been instructed. The splint clicked lightly against the countertop in the quiet room. He wasn’t entirely sure why he obeyed. “What is it about?” Coby asked. Heat prickled across his skin under his clothing.
“Maybe this isn’t the place to find out,” Gregor said as he stepped back.
Coby remained very still. Chill replaced the heat and he hesitated, rethinking the motion that would have turned him to face Gregor. He remained where he was, not even swiveling his head to see the other man, and waited, wondering what was stopping him moving.
“Upstairs?” Gregor asked.
Was it an invitation? Or was he asking permission?
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me?” Coby asked, confusion undermining the earlier relief.
“Needing it and wanting it sometimes aren’t the same thing,” Gregor said. “You need it.” Gregor’s breath was loud in the stillness that asked for permission in place of his words.
Gregor traced a path down Coby’s spine, and he held back a shiver. Barely.
“It can be a difficult thing to accept that you also want it,” Gregor went on. “So I am asking.”
“I’ve never… done it before,” Coby said. “If by ‘it’ you mean….” How to word it?
“Submitted?”
Coby swallowed. Incongruously, in that moment, he thought of Bruce. He’d never submitted in his life. He was up against Bruce. Always. Submission meant letting his twin’s bolder temperament swamp him. And if some days he wished he could let that happen, the greater part of him knew he didn’t want to be the lesser brother. His strength came from the constant battle not to let Bruce take over their lives. They vied and bantered and teased, and Coby thrived. But it was tiring. He was so tired. Now here was Gregor, offering a sort of surcease if he dared take it.
“I don’t know,” he said. His sweating palms slipped against the countertop. Tell me what to do! He closed his eyes.
Bruce. He was there, and then he wasn’t. A spray of red, his feet flying, and gone.
“Fuck!” He snapped his eyes open again, and nothing he did could stop the way his arms shook with tension or the way his good fingers gripped the counter edge. His breath hitched. Nothing he did opened his lungs enough to pull in sufficient air.
“Upstairs,” Gregor said. Calm radiated off him as he took Coby’s arm and placed a hand on the small of his back. “Come on.”
Coby allowed himself to be led. He followed the direction because the numb, frightened part of his brain kept eclipsing the rest. He had to control it, fiercely hold on to the immediacy of every moment to keep that vision at bay.
Once they were inside the private sanctum of Coby’s bedroom, Gregor eased his hand away and stepped back to look around. The warm woods and plush carpet seemed to meet with his approval, if his nod was anything to go by. He gaze fell on the bed and he smiled.
“Bruce has a quilt like that in the trailer.”
Coby nodded. “Mom made them for us. Long time ago.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.” Coby gazed at it himself and felt a bit of his tension ease.
“Okay.” Gregor’s hand was back, palm firm against Coby’s lower spine. “Sit. On the bed.”
Coby did. He also removed his shoes, socks, and shirt at Gregor’s command, as Gregor circled the room drawing curtains closed, checking the bathroom and walk-in closet, and flicking on a few small lamps.
The room was warm. The clammy sweat covering Coby’s chest and back made that fact less noticeable, and he trembled, every so often losing control of the spasms that shook him and sent slivers of pain radiating out from his bruises and stitches.
He kept careful track of the other man as Gregor knelt at his side and traced light fingers over his bandages.
“Hurt?”
“Yeah.”
“Not bleeding, though,” he confirmed with a quick peek behind them. Gently, he plastered the peeled tape back in place. He pulled in a deep breath as he considered. “Okay.” He placed both hands on Coby’s knees and looked up at him. “I know you trust me with your life, or you wouldn’t have hired me.”
Coby nodded.
“Like I said, we’re not going to have sex.”
“Oh.” Coby couldn’t decide if that was disappointing or a relief.
“You’re not up to it until that’s more healed, for one thing, and you’re freaked the hell out. I know how to help with that, but you have to trust me.”
“We just established that I do.”
Gregor nodded. “Really trust me, because this might actually be scary.” He squeezed one of Coby’s knees. “And you have… some quirks, I noticed. About touching. And tidiness.”
Coby bit his lower lip. “I guess.”
“So I’ll be touching you, and I need to know that’s okay. I need you to know it’s okay.”
Coby nodded. “It’s you. The touching thing is more with strangers.”
“Okay. Good to know.”
They were quiet for a few minutes.
“The tidy thing doesn’t really come into play here, does it?” Coby asked, and congratulated himself when he didn’t even glance at the shoes and socks Gregor had left strewn on the floor next to the bed.
“Probably not, but if there’s anything else I should know about, you need to tell me.”
Coby shook his head. “No. Well. The confined-spaces thing, I guess. Sometimes. And….” He shivered. “I thought I was over it, but the dark, where I can’t see if there’s anyone around.” He did glance around the room then, noting there were none of the usual opaque corners. Lamps were lit to reveal everything, muted, but enough so no inky shadows covered the recesses by the closet and window seats. “But you already figured that one out,” he said, bringing his attention back to Gregor.
Gregor smiled. “I told you. I pay attention.”
“Uh-huh.”
Gregor pulled in a deep breath and held Coby’s attention. “Just so we’re clear before we start, the enclosed spaces might be a problem. The dark, definitely. If they’re hard limits, you have to say so now.”
“Hard limits?”
“Things you absolutely can’t handle. Can’t do.”
Coby stared at him a long time. “What are you going to do?”
“Ultimately, help you relax.”
“By pushing me into situations that make me tense.” He frowned.
“Not if it’s going to make you so tense you can’t do them. But maybe we can keep this discomfort in the dark from becoming another thing for you.”
“You can do that?”
We can. If you trust me.”
Coby had to swallow a few times to keep the nerves from clogging his throat, but finally, he nodded. “Okay. But what do I do if it’s too much?”
Gregor smiled softly. “Tell me you want Bruce, and everything stops. Promise.”
“That simple.”
“Coby.” Gregor touched Coby’s cheek. “This is about you. I think I can help. I’d like to try, and if it works, it’ll be good. If it doesn’t, we find another way.”
“Normally, people who find me attractive just want to fuck me. They want my money. Or something….” Gregor was petting his cheek. Okay, that was distracting and sweet and hot all at once. Coby lost his train of thought somewhere in the caress and the depths of Gregor’s gaze.
“If you want me out the door, I’m gone,” he promised.
Coby shook spasmodically. Uncontrolled. “No. Stay.”
“Okay. Then yes or no?”
Coby nodded.
“Okay then, close your eyes,” Gregor instructed, standing before him. The tie he’d been wearing dangled from his hand, and he’d opened the top few buttons of his shirt. Letting his gaze travel down from those elegant fingers, past his flat stomach and narrow hips, along muscled—if lean—legs, right to his toes, Coby had to appreciate the vision. Even his feet, Coby noticed, were strangely beautiful, narrow and long-toed.
Coby logged that fact, along with the view of long legs in tailored pants, tailored shirt over broad chest, narrow chin, pursed, pretty lips, and finally, deep, liquid eyes, the brown nearly black in the dim light. Coby fixed his gaze on Gregor’s gorgeous eyes. He didn’t want to be deprived of the sight, he convinced himself. It wasn’t because he was afraid of what might flash through his brain if he voluntarily let the darkness close around him.
“Coby.”
“No.”
Gregor’s gaze held reassurance. His smile held something harder-edged. “I’ll do it for you if I must.”
Coby frowned. It didn’t even occur to him to move until the tie was actually across his face, and then it was too late.
Gregor was pressed right against him. His head, held tight to Gregor’s chest, was beyond his control to move, and the tie was fastened in place all in less time than it took Coby to process what had happened.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

The Billionaire’s Bodyguard by Erin M. Leaf

The Billionaire’s Bodyguard — by Erin M. Leaf

~Editor's Pick~

Gay (MM), Erotic Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Suspense, Thriller
Word Count: 35,130
Heat Level: 3
Published By: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 9781772330175
pages: 113


buy links: Evernight - Amazon - BookStrand - ARe - Smashwords
Billionaire Alex Roman needs a bodyguard. His best friend, Jesse Emerson, an ex-Security Forces Specialist, needs a job. What could possibly go wrong?
Jesse thinks protecting Alex will be a piece of cake. He’ll get to spend quality time with his oldest friend while avoiding his ex-girlfriend. Of course, nothing ever goes as planned. Why would Alex introduce him to everyone as his lover? And why didn’t Alex tell him about the threatening notes he’s been receiving for months?
Alex has been in love with Jesse for years, not that he’d ever admit it to his best friend, but he’s not above making a practical joke out of it. Telling everyone that Jesse is his boyfriend will go a long way toward relieving the stress of the threats he’s been plagued with recently. Unfortunately, when someone tries to shoot him at a charity gala, he discovers that maybe he needs Jesse’s skills more than he realized…
…because sometimes a billionaire’s best friend is the fake boyfriend who’s really his bodyguard.

Story Excerpt:
“You are not going to talk to the police again,” Jesse said firmly. “You’re going to let your lawyers deal with them.”
“Not a problem.” Alex laughed shortly and tipped his head back against the back of the seat. The limo slowly weaved between traffic, much later than he’d wanted to be getting home. The lights of the other cars flashed against his eyes, making him feel like he was stuck in an endless film noir. Across from him, Jesse checked his weapons, again, settling his underarm holster more firmly against his side. “I gave them a statement. That’s enough,” Alex murmured tiredly.
“That detective was such a dick.” Jesse rubbed his eyes. “What the hell was his problem?”
“He thought we were lovers.”
“That does not make me any less angry, Alex,” Jesse said, glaring out the window.
Alex shook his head. “You know how people are. I’m wealthy. He thinks that makes me a jerk. And he doesn’t like the idea that maybe I like taking it up the ass.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had taken up residence in his spine. “It doesn’t matter. The police won’t find anything, anyway.”
“Jesus.” Jesse sighed and slumped down in the leather seat. “What the hell is going on, Alex? Those notes aren’t as innocuous as they seem.”
Alex watched Jesse, knowing he was right. He nudged Jesse’s foot with his toe. “Hey. You did all you could. You saved my life. Thank you.”
Jesse gave him a look.
“Don’t do that.” Alex leaned forward. “I would be dead if you hadn’t been there.”
Jesse clenched his fists. “Yeah. That’s why I’m so fucking upset, Alex. What if I hadn’t been there? It’s pure luck that I showed up at your door.” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving your side until this is resolved.”
Alex couldn’t control the tiny surge of joy that welled up inside him. “Um, that might get a bit awkward. Especially when I have to use the toilet.”
Jesse glared at him. “Someone’s trying to kill you and you’re making jokes.”
“What else can I do right now?” Alex asked, reasonably.
Jesse’s face tightened. “Shut up. Please, just… Be quiet for a minute, Alex.”
Alex watched his friend for a long moment. He knew Jesse better than anyone else in his life, and his friend was not happy right now. “I’m okay, Jesse. I’m alive.”
“Yeah.”
Alex pursed his lips, then he slid to his knees on the floor. He put a hand on Jesse’s right knee.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jesse asked, going rigid.
“What I should have done years ago,” Alex murmured, sliding his fingers up to his friend’s crotch. Jesse’s cock was hard.
“Fuck!” The word exploded out of Jesse as Alex cupped his erection.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” Alex murmured, running a finger along the firm length.
Jesse gave a strangled groan. “This is crazy.”
Alex looked up at him, hand going still. “That kiss was crazy.”
Jesse didn’t look away. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”
Alex liked the way his friend didn’t deny what had happened. “I know. I don’t either,” he finally whispered, leaning closer. He put his cheek on Jesse’s thigh. It was warm and hard and shook just the tiniest bit. He wanted to bite it.
“Alex, I’m not gay. I’m not even bi,” Jesse ground out.
Alex had to laugh at that one. “Aren’t you?” He leaned back, then deliberately cupped Jesse’s prick, holding his friend’s gaze the entire time. Jesse’s blue eyes were dilated. “Then why are you so hard?”
Jesse swallowed. “I don’t know.”
Alex deliberately undid the button of Jesse’s pants, then slid the zipper down. Jesse’s cock pushed against his boxer-briefs, hot and sure. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Jesse’s entire body shuddered. “God, Alex…” he trailed off when Alex leaned closer and put his mouth over the head of his dick, breathing through the cotton. “Fuck!”
Alex grinned against the fabric, enjoying the musky scent of his friend. He rubbed his face against the hard length, then slowly peeled the fabric down until Jesse’s prick was exposed. As he stared at the deep ruby crown, moisture slid from the tiny slit. He licked his lips. Jesse’s thighs were iron-hard beneath his forearms.
“Do it,” Jesse said roughly. “Put me in your mouth.”
Alex glanced up. Jesse’s eyes glittered in the low light of the car. When the car drove over a pothole, Jesse’s erection bumped his chin.
“Jesus, Alex,” Jesse muttered, head going back as his eyes closed.
Alex couldn’t resist any longer. He didn’t want to resist. He leaned in and sucked the tip between his lips, playing his tongue across the smooth skin. Jesse moaned and Alex slid his hand around the hard length, holding it steady. He put his other hand on his own erection, pressing hard enough to hurt. He didn’t want to come in his pants like a teenager, but the sight of Jesse so messed up had him closer to orgasm than he’d realized. Jesse moaned again and Alex swirled his tongue faster, then sank down, opening wide. He stopped and sucked, then lightly scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin. He wanted to blow Jesse’s mind.

Author Details:
Erin M. Leaf is a romance novel devotee, the steamier the better, with a specialty in edgy erotic tension. She also writes romance as Marie E. Blossom.
Twitter: @erinmleaf

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Erin M. Leaf
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Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Binding Robbie by A.C. Katt

 
--> Coming 09.25.14
Binding Robbie

Blurb

-->
Tom Martino is curious. All of the Doms and their subs are protecting Robbie Bailey, a street kid Danny and Gary found in a Trenton snow drift. It seems that at one time Robby took a beating meant for Danny Donovan. When Danny’s Brother Caden came to rescue Danny from the streets, they looked for Robby and couldn’t find him. Now that they have, all of the Doms and their subs are determined to help him because he helped one of their own. Tom wants to help Robby too, but for a different reason. After getting to know the young man, Tom is in love. But one problem remains; Robby says he isn’t a sub.

Excerpt
Danny and Gary stepped out of DeLorenzo’s Tomato Pies into two feet of dirty snow that was pushed to the edge of the sidewalk. Danny’s breath looked like smoke coming from his nose,  as his mouth and lungs protested the inhalation of the sub zero air. The sidewalk was icy and Gary grabbed at Danny so he wouldn’t slip. Danny glanced across the street and saw a small figure, huddled near a pile of snow against the aged brick faƧade of the old Roebling building. A cardboard box with a plaid blanket hanging out the end sat next to the snowdrift elevated from the sidewalk by discarded wooden pallets.
Danny shivered in sympathy. He remembered his two months on the street after his parents threw him out for being gay. He was lucky it was spring time and although it was chilly at night it was relatively easy to keep warm. He had a part-time job at McDonald’s and a membership at the Y that kept him clean and fed while he finished high school.  It was two months before his brother Caden came home from Afghanistan for his graduation, found him on the streets, and got him an apartment and a good job. Just the memory of being homeless and scared gave Danny shivers that didn’t come from the cold.
“Sir, would you mind if I go across the street and give that man money for a room tonight?”
“You can’t save the world, baby, but if it makes you feel better, go ahead.” Gary removed his leather gloves and pulled his wallet from the inside pocket of his tailored topcoat. He took out five twenty dollar bills and passed them to Danny.
“I’m going across the street with you. I don’t want you in danger.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Danny crossed the street quickly with Gary on his heels.
Danny leaned over the huddled figure and immediately noticed the shock of dark red hair sticking out of the battered knit cap on his head. Danny’s mouth opened in surprise and joy. He leaned over and shook the sleeping figure. “Robbie, wake up, it’s Danny.”
“You know this boy?” Gary asked.
The boy was lethargic; he barely stirred when Danny said his name. “Please Sir, we have to help Robbie. I wouldn’t have survived the two months I spent on the street if Robbie hadn’t taken me under his wing.”
“Let me look. Robbie…” Gary knelt and placed his hand on the head of the boy lying on the cardboard box. Danny stood behind him. The boy turned his head to Gary as if in slow motion.
“Danny?”
Gary stood making a quick decision. “The Navigator [K1] is up the street. He may have hypothermia. Let him hold onto you. I’ll bring the car up and we’ll get him into it and take him to Greg at St. Mary’s. Cisco said he was pulling a shift tonight.” Gary ran up the dark street to get the SUV.
****
Danny helped Robbie get to his feet. “Danny, is that really you?” Danny saw the hope flare brightly in Robbie’s eyes for a moment, then extinguish.
Robbie dropped his lids avoiding Danny’s face. “Don’t…don’t let me mess you up. You found someone. Leave me here.” Robbie stopped talking as a long spate of coughing rendered him unable to speak.
He rasped, “Don’t screw up by getting involved with me.” He tried to control his constant shivers as tears ran in rivulets from his eyes freezing on his cheeks.
The Navigator pulled up. “Don’t worry, come with me, everything is going to be fine. It’s my turn to take care of you.” Robbie attempted to resist but obviously didn’t have the strength.
Gary pulled up and got out of the huge blue SUV and with his help, Danny half carried and half dragged Robbie into the door pushing him up and onto the beige leather back seat. Gary jumped back into the driver’s seat and turned on the heat to the highest setting, while Danny got into the car beside his friend with an old stadium blanket he retrieved from the rear of the Navigator. He pulled the blanket over both of them to try to warm Robbie by sharing his body heat.
“I can’t afford a hospital,” Robbie said in a barely audible voice.
Danny shushed his friend and pulled Robbie closer as he buckled him in the seatbelt.
Gary turned and asked, “Ready?” Danny nodded his head.
Gary took off into the night. On the way to St Mary’s he called Cisco. Through the rearview mirror Gary watched  as the boy violently shivered in the warm car crying out in pain as the chilblains hit. Danny whispered reassurances. Gary sped through the Trenton streets. The ten minute ride to the hospital took less than five minutes.


photo
Mary Lynn Hansel
Author, Writing as AC Katt for MLR Press & JMS books