CRASH PAD by Whitley Gray

Blurb

Physician Remy Marshall has two loves: Emergency Medicine and running. Work doesn’t leave much time to meet guys, and most seem more interested in his bank account than him. With a week off to train for a marathon, Remy plans to make the most of his precious vacation. The last thing he needs is a distraction.

Jamie Sutton is new to the area. He hopes to make a fresh start after leaving an abusive relationship with an orthopedic surgeon. He’s got a new job as a massage therapist and wants to meet some nice guys. Against his better judgment, Jamie decides the best way to meet a cute rollerblader he’s seen in the park is on wheels.

With attention on his watch and not where he’s going, Remy crashes into Jamie and fractures the first-time rollerblader’s ankle. Jamie has no one to help him after the injury; Remy proposes Jamie stay with him. Jamie is reluctant, but it’s a better option than staying with the odd guy in the neighboring motel room. As the two get acquainted, Jamie’s past comes calling. Remy discovers the prize he really wants isn’t a medal in a marathon, but the man right in front of him.

 

BUY: Loose Id

 

Excerpt

What the hell had he been thinking?

Jamie tottered along on the rollerblades, arms windmilling, wobbling like a man on a three-day drinking spree. A beautiful morning: sky a serene blue, sunlight dappling the lawns with green and gold, the fresh scent of newly mowed grass. All the things he loved about the park on his daily forays. Now all his attention was focused on surviving this excursion into bad judgment.

The hot-as-Hades helmet and safety gear looked ridiculous.

Cute Rollerblade Guy didn’t wear all this crap. On the other hand, Cute Rollerblade Guy could skate. That coppery ponytail and beard… Mmm, mmm. Too bad the guy wasn’t a runner like Jamie. It would have been easier to meet him—safer, for sure. A shirtless runner, in shorts. Yeah…

A girl yelled, “Look out, Mister,” and whizzed by on his right.

Jamie stuttered on his skates and then got his equilibrium.

The broad path stretched before him like a concrete snake, a thousand times as long and just as dangerous. Kids half his size zoomed past on their wheels, perfect balance, full of confidence and laughter. He wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. God, he felt like an inept giant. Might as well be ten and at the roller rink with his sister. Why did adults think this was fun? And why did he feel the need to risk his neck at age twenty-eight?

Because you want to meet Cute Rollerblade Guy.

He coasted forward a few feet—too fast, too fast—and grabbed on to a light pole. Yeah, this would impress the man. Two miles an hour, gyrating like a weathervane in a wind storm. Can anyone say idiot? There had to be a better way.

His truck was at least half a mile away in the east lot. Okay, he had a choice: take off the blades and walk in his stocking feet to the parking area or suck it up and blade there. Wouldn’t take that long, just a few minutes. Or hours. Or days. He blew out a breath. Cute Rollerblade Guy hadn’t showed yet. Maybe he’d skate past before Jamie either reached the parking lot or sustained a grievous injury. A glance to the right, and he cautiously re-entered the foot, bike, and blade traffic.

* * * *

Two miles to go.

Remy’s running shoes slapped on the asphalt path through the park. As he passed the mile marker, he glanced at his watch. Seven minutes for the last mile. To be competitive in next month’s marathon, he’d need to get it down to six and a half. He hit the Reset button and picked up the pace. A little crowded on the path, but otherwise a perfect day to add a couple of miles onto his usual six. They’d had snow last year at this time. Old Man Winter had blessed them with one last blizzard on Memorial Day before going into hibernation.

This afternoon, people packed the recreation areas around the lake. Screeches and laughter came from the playground. The fragrance of grilled steak wafted over from the picnic area, and his stomach growled. Remy shook out his hands. On pace for six and a half minutes. Good.

By the time he got home, he’d need to rush through his shower to get ready for tonight. The guy Brett planned to introduce him to better be worth the trouble. A double date/blind date for dinner wasn’t Remy’s idea of a good time. Of course, alone at home wasn’t any better. If the guy turned out to be a dud, Remy could claim a headache and leave early. As he turned the corner, the sun flashed in his eyes. He ducked his head, squinted at his watch, and kept running.

Thwack.

Remy landed on his back in the grass; the impact knocked the wind out of him. For a moment, he stared up at the sky. What’d he hit? His side of the path had been clear a second ago, so where had the roadblock come from? A hand rested on his groin. A strange hand. A man’s hand.

What the hell? Remy scrambled backward.

Lying prone on the turf next to him, in a tangle of arms, legs, and rollerblades, was a helmeted man. Remy scowled. One of those damn skater boys, always clogging the path and expecting everyone to get out of their way. God, they were a hazard.

Remy’s face heated. Except his time, he’d been the hazard. The rollerblader groaned. The sound of hurt. Remy’s medical training kicked in, and he scrambled to his knees and bent over the man.

“Hey. You okay?”

“My…ankle.” Lips pulled back in a grimace, revealing enough teeth to suggest agony. The man’s helmet angled over both eyes as he tugged at the buckle. “Stupid thing.”

“Here.” Remy got the chinstrap unfastened. “Does your neck hurt?”

“No.” The skater took a deep breath and rolled to his back. “Sheezus.”

Remy pushed the headgear up far enough to reveal the skater’s eyes, but they remained shut. The brain bucket gave good protection, but a concussion wasn’t out of the question. “Can you open your eyes?”

Golden lashes lifted to reveal eyes the blue of a first-place ribbon. The guy reached up and yanked the helmet off, and for a moment Remy couldn’t move. The injured man had blond curls, plastered down into hat hair. A straight nose and full lips. Gorgeous. Wow. Just…wow.

“Argh,” moaned Gorgeous.

Nice doctor you are, ogling the injured patient. Shoving the improper thoughts away, Remy got back to work with his assessment. “Anything else hurt?”

“Knee,” the man muttered, lids closing over the world’s most gorgeous eyes. “Frickin’ ankle inside the skate.”

Fracture? With the skates, Remy couldn’t see a thing. Removing them would help, but the boot would keep a fracture splinted until they could get X-rays. The guy could move all four extremities. Other than a scrape on the left shin, everything seemed to be in working order. Remy pushed on the man’s hipbones, checking for pelvic fracture.

The man grabbed Remy’s wrists. “You should buy me dinner first, don’t you think?”

Remy winced. Nice move, dummy. This isn’t the ER. The sun had apparently addled his wits. “Sorry. What’s your name?”

“Jamie.” He bent his knee and another grimace twisted his features. “Hurts.”

“I’m Remy Marshall.” He gripped Jamie’s long-fingered hand. “Well, Jamie, I think an ER visit is in your future.”

A woman crouched beside Remy. “Does he need an ambulance?”

“No ambulance.” Jamie’s tone was a mix of pain and irritation.

Remy glanced at the woman. “It could be a fracture. My car’s in the west lot. If we can get him there, I’ll take him.”

Jamie pushed him away. “I don’t know you.”

Remy sighed, pulled his hospital ID card out of his wallet, and held it over Jamie’s face, giving him a few seconds to check it out. “I’m a doctor.”



THIS COULDN’T BE happening.

It just didn’t get more humiliating than this. In the park, on a cloudless day, being carried to a stranger’s car—no, to Dr. Marshall’s car—by the doctor and a female Good Samaritan. And he still had on the damn rollerblades because the MD suspected a fracture. Jamie had to admit, the intense throbbing in his left ankle tended to make him agree. At least going by private car was cheaper than an ambulance. Another group of kids, all giving him unabashed stares. Jamie closed his eyes. Nightmare.

“Almost there, Jamie.” Dr. Marshall spoke next to Jamie’s ear. At least he was cute. Jamie opened his eyes.

Oh no. Cupid, thy name is cruelty. Wending toward them, body moving sinuously in time with the music on his MP3 player, was the object of Jamie’s worship from afar: Cute Rollerblade Guy, fiery ponytail gleaming in the sun.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Skate right on by—

Cutie halted next to Dr. Marshall. “Hey. Need some help?”

Jamie’s rescue team paused, and he tried to sit up straighter. Hanging between two people, parked on the seat formed by their forearms—dignity really wasn’t possible. He smiled through clenched teeth.

“We got it,” said the woman. Her tone dared the guy to challenge her capability to haul injured men through the park.

“Big oops, huh?” Cutie pointed at Jamie’s scraped leg and throbbing ankle. “Looks bad.”

“Rollerblading injury,” Dr. Marshall snapped. No mistaking the disapproval in those words.

“Did you fall?” Cutie leaned forward, hands on knees. Tawny eyes met Jamie’s.

The man had dreamy peepers. “N-no, more of a collision.”

“You ran into someone?”

“Sh—sheesh, no. Someone ran into me.”

Dr. Marshall cleared his throat and looked away. “We’ve got to get going, get him to the ER for X-rays.”

The rescuers bounced Jamie up, resettling him in the two-person carry, and resumed their shuffling progress toward the parking lot.

Cutie tagged along, rolling next to the rescue team. “Hope you’ll be okay.”

Jamie tried, but an authentic grin wasn’t possible. “Sure.”

Flashing another stunning smile, Cutie executed a one-eighty and bladed off. Jamie attempted to enjoy the view of Cutie’s spandex-clad ass, but pain got in the way. He closed his eyes. Well, now he’d met Cute Rollerblade Guy. Only had to sacrifice an ankle to do it.

Mission accomplished.  

Whitley Gray -- Official Author Website

 

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.

 

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5473

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.

 Jaime Samms

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.

website: http://erinmleaf.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Erin-M-Leaf/410019209059510

Twitter: @erinmleaf

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4355929.Erin_M_Leaf

Evernight: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/erin-m-leaf/

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Erin M. Leaf

erinmleaf.com

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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 façade 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.

Mary Lynn Hansel Author, Writing as AC Katt for MLR Press & JMS books e:mlhansel@gmail.com | w:http://www.ackatt.com

 

Stealing Enchantments - Preternatural Rescue Centre by Ellen Cross

Stealing Enchantments - Preternatural Rescue Centre Book 7

   

Blurb
    Shamus is small...really small, but being a leprechaun, that’s okay. What isn’t small about him though, is his magic. When his father disowns him from not only the family, but also his clan, Shamus knows the resulting upsurge in his magic will eventually burn him out. Instead of concentrating on finding a solution to his problem, his thoughts remain on the most irritating man he has ever met, Zee.
    Zee is a water sprite hiding a dark secret, one that led to the death of his only lover. He can’t let anyone in, can’t let anyone close—it isn’t safe. While he has been able to keep his distance from everyone so far, a redheaded leprechaun with a smart mouth and irresistibly shiny toys tests his resolve.
    Zee hates Shamus and delights in irritating him, but when the leprechaun goes missing, Zee is going to have to decide if he really hates Shamus after all, or if he is just lying to himself.

eXtasy Books link: http://www.extasybooks.com/Stealing-Enchantments/

 

Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Stealing-Enchantments-Preternatural-Rescue-Centre-ebook/dp/B00MYDIN1O%3FSubscriptionId%3DAKIAJBDF5XQBATGDX4VQ%26tag%3Dspea06-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3DB00MYDIN1O

Excerpt

    Shamus was pissed. Actually, he had passed that point an hour ago and was steadily approaching the point of full-blown postal meltdown. Did the source of his anger seem to notice, or care? Nope! Zee, the water sprite the guardians had rescued a couple of weeks earlier, paraded himself around the buffet table without a care in the world, his plate full of fruits, salad, and oh hell no! Was that the last slice of Betty’s fudge brownie? Yep. The water sprite grinned at Shamus as he took a bite and moaned, closing his eyes as if on the verge of a climax from that one taste, before he turned and ignored Shamus once more.

    Dressed in board shorts that looked to be at least two sizes too big—so much so that they barely hung onto his hips—and showed off the dimples on either side of his lower back, Zee practically screamed take me now! Of course, he pretended not to notice the way the workers stared, yet Shamus just knew that nothing the sprite did was innocent. Zee had to know that the workers around him were practically salivating.

     Shamus growled as the guy pranced off, happily sitting with a bunch of other sprites and laughing. The group turned as one, giving Shamus the stink-eye and giggling even harder as they turned back. Honestly, the world wouldn’t miss one little sprite, would it? Make that a whole bunch. Hell, there might even be a reward in it. What he wouldn’t give to have a flashbang on hand.

    Shamus snatched up his own tray, stomping along the buffet table and growling louder the further along he went. The worst thing about the sprites was that they preferred the same vegan diet that he did. The containers for each of the dishes he would normally pick looked as though they had been licked clean. It left only meat options and the bread rolls to choose from, and there was only one of the rolls left, too. Shamus snatched up the sorry looking roll and sat it in the middle of his tray, sneering in the direction of the sprites as they started to fling food at each other from their overflowing trays. A blob of what looked to be vegetable lasagna landed on Shamus’s shoulder. He gave it a momentary glance before he glared back at the table of delinquents, they all seemed to hold their breath, stunned looks on their faces as they stared, before falling into a heap against each other and howling with laughter.

    Carefully holding the tray containing his pitiful lunch with one hand, Shamus flicked the mess off his leather duster, then had to dive to one side to avoid a baseball-sized ball of mashed potato, with what he could swear were corn and peas imbedded into it. The flying monstrosity looked like a green and gold snowball as it splattered the wall behind him, but that wasn’t the last straw that broke the camel’s back. It was the fact that his pitiful bread roll had gone flying off his tray, landing on the ground, and rolling into yet another pile of unrecognizable crap. He assumed it had at one time been coleslaw, but it looked like someone had chewed it and spat it out.

    Rage burned through Shamus. He glared at the chaos, turned and dumped his empty tray back down on the sideboard and stalked from the room. It had been this way all week, and his stomach growled painfully in protest of too many skipped meals. Hell, it was as if they never left the damn dining room, camped out and causing chaos every single time Shamus tried to sneak in to grab a bite to eat. It wasn’t as if he could just give in to his urge to use some of his toys on the little brats. He had promised Davis he would behave. The Delta rehab centre couldn’t be finished fast enough, as far as he was concerned. The sooner those troublemakers were on their way, the better!

http://ellen-cross.webs.com/

 

Scars on his Heart by Jaime Samms

Blurb: After a disastrous five years away at college, Joe returns to his aunt's farm and finds his childhood sweetheart Cameron eager to rekindle their relationship. Joe has a hard time confessing that he didn't come home until now because he's only just managed to leave Andre, his controlling boyfriend, and has a harder time renewing his submissive role in his affair with Cam. Cam thinks he has to find a way to remind Joe how to be strong. But what Cam doesn't realize is that Joe is strong, strong enough to leave behind a life of shame—though he's terrified his past will catch up to him. Joe must confront his ex and take back his own life, on his own terms, before he's able to give Cam everything they both desire.

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5284

Excerpt 1:

They sat and watched as the first few dances of the evening progressed. The bride was as beautiful as she should be, and Joe was more than grateful that Cam took Albert’s place for the duty of the father-bride dance. When it was over and Cam looked from the dance floor to Joe, still slouched in his seat just outside, Joe rose and stomped off into the darkening evening.

Strings of lights had been hung in the trees leading down to the pond, but the narrow path was deserted. The small clearing was ringed with citronella torches, and more lights led off from the far side. Between the trees, Joe could see the water glinting. The place seemed deserted. Just the way he liked it.

They had lucked out with the warmer-than-average weather. It was too early for mosquitoes, and just a bit past blackfly season. The music from the barn was only a faint sound in the distance, barely heard over the songs of the mating bullfrogs. More torches lined the water’s edge, throwing their flickering gold light out across the expanse.

An occasional splash sounded out beyond the reach of the light. In the near dark, the gurgle of the small creek that fed the pond seemed louder than Joe remembered. His boots dislodged the stones of the shore and they clacked together, a quiet counterpoint to the rest of nature’s music.

Joe bent to pick up a few of the smoother, flatter ones. He fitted one into the crook of his index finger and twisted his arm out and around. The stone sailed out over the water in a low arch. He lost sight of it in the darkness, but he heard it splash once. He tried another and a third, but each stone only hit the water with a plop and sank.

“Never were very good at that.” Cam’s voice drifted from the head of the path. He hadn’t ventured out onto the stones, so Joe hadn’t heard his approach. Still, his voice didn’t send a shockwave through Joe. It was as if he had expected the other man to come eventually.

“My dad tried to teach me. We used to come here all the time when I was a kid.”

“I remember.”

“You do?” Joe turned to watch Cam saunter across the beach.

Cam’s broad shoulders filled out his suit nicely. He had his hands buried in his pockets, and the jacket was hitched up around them. His tie hung loose around his neck. Joe eyed that tie and a slow slide of want slithered through him.

“Course I do,” Cam said. “I’ve lived on this farm my whole life, remember?”

Joe nodded, because of course he knew that. And he remembered Cam from the years before he had come to live with Aunt Marie and Uncle Albert. Cam had been a farmhand by then. Well, he always had been a farmhand, but Joe had never paid any attention at that young age. It was only when he’d moved into the farmhouse after his parents’ deaths that he’d realized Cam was more than just a regular worker….

Very shortly after Joe had moved here, Cam had proven to be so much more. He’d quickly become Joe’s confidant. His best friend. A lot of things Joe didn’t understand until he began to understand Cam wasn’t the only boy who fascinated him. He was just the one who fascinated Joe the most.

“The lights out here are nice,” Cam said.

“Yeah. Katie thought of everything.”

“I thought more people would be out here enjoying it.”

Joe shrugged. “Dancing is still going strong. Give them time. They’ll start slipping away in pairs soon enough.”

“Hmm.” Cam nodded sagely.

They watched each other in silence for a while. Finally, Cam bent and scooped a few stones from the ground. He flung them, one after the other in quick succession, and they could be heard skipping across the water far into the dark.

“Yeah, well.” Joe kicked at the ground. “Never did get the hang of it.”

Tossing the rocks had brought Cam closer to the shore and closer to Joe. “We all have our different strengths.”

“Sure.” Joe watched as Cam tugged on the loose ends of his tie. The blood rushed in his veins at the thoughts of what Cam could do with that tie. It made his mouth water and his palms sweat. He swallowed that reaction down.

“I rushed you earlier,” Cam said softly.

Joe kept his gaze riveted on the fingers curled tight around the strip of silk.

“Joe?”

Joe licked his lips.

“I’ve always been rushing you.”

“No.”

“Oh?” Cam let go of one end of the tie and pulled it from his neck. He passed it to Joe. “You hang on to this. I can’t be trusted.”

Joe almost smiled. The thing was, Joe knew a lot of men who couldn’t—or shouldn’t have been—trusted. Cam was not on that list. It was Joe and his inability to say no that was the problem. He took the tie anyway.

As if it was some sort of cue, Joe suddenly found he could lift his gaze farther than Cam’s chest. He stared into his friend’s face and found a sweet, longing expression there. That was enough to break down something in Joe that had kept him at a distance.

He took a step, all that was needed to put him inside Cam’s personal space, and tilted his chin up. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t think he had to. A heartbeat later, Cam caressed Joe’s jaw with a touch both firm and gentle.

Cam bent his head. “Joe.”

“Shh.” Joe had to lift up onto his toes to reach. He pressed his lips to Cam’s and tilted his head slightly. It was as though Cam was holding his breath. Waiting. As though he was being extra cautious and still. As though he thought if he moved or breathed, Joe would bolt. Joe pressed forward, pushing his mouth over Cam’s, parting his lips and darting his tongue out to lick lightly.

“Kiss me, idiot,” Joe whispered against his lips. “Kiss me before I start to think again.”

Cam’s fingers grew resolute, traveling farther back to tangle in Joe’s hair. He pulled Joe to him and turned so their mouths slanted over each other and their lips locked. He took control of the hesitant kiss so fast Joe’s head spun.

Grabbing handfuls of Cam’s suit jacket was the only thing keeping Joe grounded. He moaned softly and pushed his tongue past Cam’s lips. The kiss went from tentative to true to tangled in a matter of seconds, and Joe knew if he let go, or if Cam did, he would be lost. He would bolt. He needed the contact, the feel of Cam holding on to him to be brave.

When Cam’s tongue swept into Joe’s mouth, it was over. His will evaporated, and he pressed his body against Cam. He would have burrowed right into him if he could. Cam’s arm went around his waist, and Joe groaned. He could feel Cam’s cock, as solid as his own, digging into his hip.

“I want to fuck you,” Cam growled against his mouth. “I want to lay you out and fuck you ’til I’m all you know, Joe.”

Joe moaned and attempted to crawl up Cam’s body.

“Oh God.” Cam tightened his grip in Joe’s hair, pulling painfully. “Come to bed.”

Joe would have agreed to spread out right there on the unyielding stones if Cam demanded it. He nodded even as Cam took another kiss, another breath, another bit of him. 

 Jaime Samms