Golden Dancer by Tara Lain

Excerpt ADULT: Golden Dancer by Tara Lain

Available Sept 27 from Loose Id

A reporter and the thief he’s investigating fall for a golden dancer forging a ménage of love and lies that could send one to prison and one to the morgue. Uncovering secrets requires baring more than just the soul.

He half believed the reason his investigation was going nowhere was because he didn’t want to succeed. Now that he knew Daniel -- in more than the Biblical sense -- he didn’t really want the man to be guilty. Or, at least, he was having a tough time with the idea of bringing him down. Shit! What kind of a fucking reporter was he? But it was possible that Daniel didn’t do it. It was possible!

On top of a boatload of frustration over his stalled investigation, Mac was also crawly with sexual frustration. From celibate to addict in a week. He stalked around his little house like a caged animal, thought about the Laguna gay bars, and rejected the idea as too scary and kind of repulsive. He’d even thought of trying out the boy-toy service he used for Kizwalski, but that qualified as full-on creepy. What he wanted was Trelain. Trelain’s ass, yes, but also those turquoise eyes looking at him like he -- what did Debbie call it? -- hung the moon. He missed the dancer with an ache he would have thought impossible just weeks ago. Yeah, and to be honest, he kind of missed the damned billionaire too. Crap.

One more tea. Pouring the dark liquid over yet more ice, he heard a car door slam. It was early afternoon. Not many people coming and going at this hour.

Feeling nosy, he carried his drink into the living room and peered out the window. Holy shit. Daniel stood in the middle of his little yard looking around like he’d never seen how the other half lived, but his chauffeur was pulling the big limo away from his house.

Talk about conflicting emotions -- a weird combo of horror and delight. Before one emotion could win, the doorbell sounded. He set down the tea and walked to the entry. First he needed to know why the hell Daniel was here. Deep breath. He opened the door.

How could he forget Daniel’s beauty? Six-three or -four of slim, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped masculinity. That silver hair had grown a bit since Mac had first seen him, and it curled a little around his ears. Those deep midnight blue eyes went on for eons. Right now, those eyes looked uncertain. Dimples flashed in the lean cheeks. “Hi.”

Breathing was difficult. “Hi.”

Mac couldn’t move. Daniel didn’t. Finally, Mac shook himself mentally. Get a grip. “Did you want to come in?”

“That would be nice, yes.”

Mac stepped aside, and Daniel walked past him into the cramped, messy cottage. Mac followed the bigger man as he walked into the little living-room/office combo. Shit. He walked over to the computer to check that only his water article was up on the screen. Yeah. Good. “Do you want some iced tea?”

“Thank you.”

Mac walked into the little kitchen, poured a new glass, and refilled his own. What the hell did the man want? When he went back to the living area, Daniel was looking at photos on the wall. He extended a glass. Daniel took it, and their eyes met.

Daniel seemed to take a breath. “I miss you so much.”

“What?”

“I miss you. I can’t stand that Trelain being gone means we have nothing left between us.”

Mac knew his mouth hung open. “I didn’t think you even liked me.”

The dark eyes looked back at him, and then he got the wry smile he knew so well. “I didn’t. I even tried to hate you because Trelain cares for you so much, but I can’t seem to do it. I want you, Mac.”

Mac shook his head, trying to clear it. What was this about? This was so not in character for the cool billionaire. Yeah, he’d seen Daniel play at bottoming for Trelain, but this was…well, not Trelain. It was him, MacKenzie MacAllister. WTF? A lot of people were acting strangely lately, including him. “There are a million guys who would lie down in the road to be with you…”

Daniel grabbed his arm, sloshing a little tea onto the old wood floor. “Don’t want them. Want you. Fuck me, Mac. Please, fuck me.”

This wasn’t happening. Daniel Terrebone, billionaire, art thief, and nemesis, was not really standing here begging to be fucked. Sweet Jesus, his head was going to explode. Mac backed up, pulling his arm from Daniel’s grasp, surrendering more tea to the floorboards.

Daniel closed the gap in one step, flipping the glass from Mac’s hand. He barely heard the crash as Daniel’s mouth closed over his. Instant flashback to that night in the hallway at Daniel’s house, the night Mac’s whole life changed. Mac felt that hot tongue pressing into his mouth with no pause for permission, and every ounce of frustration boiling just under his skin for days poured out his throat in a deep moan, a moan echoed by the big man holding him. Mac’s arms wrapped around that tall body of their own accord, and he tangled a leg around Daniel’s thigh trying to get their cocks closer. Daniel was big, but no way he could lift Mac’s tall, lanky frame around his waist like they both loved to do to Trelain. Instead, the man grabbed that thigh and pulled it high until Mac’s erection pointed straight at the big lump in Daniel’s shorts, and then he pulled Mac’s butt with his other hand and ground them together. Oh shit, it felt good.

“Feel good, Mac? Have you been missing this as much as I have?” Daniel stared relentlessly into his eyes as he purposefully ground their two big rods, separated only by thin summer cotton. Daniel pulled Mac’s butt harder, shooting sparks straight through his cock. “Tell me, dammit!”

“Yes, shit, yes, I dream about it. I wake up covered in cum thinking of your mouth on my cock.” And damn him to hell, it was true.

Daniel pulled their bodies closer and rotated his hips. Holy crap, it was like heaven and hell at once. Daniel pushed his lips next to Mac’s ear. “And did you ever dream about fucking me, Mac? After you saw Trelain do it, didn’t you want to just a little bit?” When all he got from Mac was a moan, he upped the grinding. “Tell me; I want to hear. Tell me!”

“Oh God, yes, I wanted to fuck you right then, but you didn’t ask me. I’ve wanted to every day since; I want to…”

“Now. You want to now.”

“Yes, God, yes.” Crap, what was he saying?

Daniel pulled Mac in for a searing kiss. “Where?”

Mac nodded toward the bedroom.

The crazy big man picked Mac up by the waist. Mac was only a couple inches shorter and maybe twenty pounds lighter, so the overall effect was not graceful or suave. In fact, the marked contrast to having the sinuous Trelain wrapped around him made Mac laugh. Daniel looked at him askance for a moment, then joined in. This had to be a sight worthy of a Saturday cartoon, but it got the job done, and Daniel carried Mac, stumbling, down the short hall, tossed him onto his bed, and fell down on top of him.

The laughing turned to gasping. Daniel dug into a pocket and produced a bottle of lube. He pushed himself up off Mac’s body and dragged his denim shorts off a very erect cock with no underwear in between. The man came prepared. Breathing hard, he poured lube into his palm, knelt up, bent over unceremoniously, and started shoving lube into his ass. He glanced at Mac. “Get those shorts off, man. You got work to do.”

Holy crap. He was about to fuck Daniel Terrebone. That this might be true in more ways than

one was not something he wanted to think about.

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