In this excerpt from Eye Candy and Achy Hearts, Jeffrey gets his first glimpse of EyeCandy2933. And a big “yum” for him.
Since Valentine’s Day to be exact—three days ago—the anticipation about meeting EyeCandy2933 was more stressful than knowing that my boss had just slimmed down his staff and informed us at a staff meeting that those of us left behind would have to pull our weight plus some. Translated, that meant stuffing forty-eight hours of work into twenty-four. This job was going to be the death of me. I hated it.
As my midnight hour drew closer, I kept thinking I should cancel. I glanced at the pile of paperwork on my desk that needed to be translated and transformed into tax advantages for our clients. I knew I wasn’t going to cancel. I definitely needed the fantasy.
John Smith and Douglas Jones. That’s the name the room was registered in. It was the type of hotel where the desk attendant didn’t ask questions. Not too sleazy, let’s just call them discreet. As long as the money wasn’t counterfeit, they could have cared less whose name was on the register.
On the night in question, my hand trembled as I slipped the key card into the door slot on the sixth floor of the Remington Hotel on West Main Street. Fuck! Red light. Try it again. Bzzzt! The story of my life. One more time. Three’s the charm, right? Green light meant go. Bells ringing. Ding-dong, ding-dong. Open Sesame. Stupid kid’s tale, as I entered my own Aladdin’s cave filled with what I hoped would be my personal jewel of exotic delight.
Opening the door to the hotel room, I couldn’t believe my luck. Brave soul was he. Far too trusting, I think. But he was young, not so jaded as I. At least he looked quite young. Maybe when I got closer I’d find the age lines that didn’t show up at a distance in a darkened room. He sat there, his back to me—his sexy, naked back, a slight curve to his deliciously long spine. Adonis or Cupid, I couldn’t decide. He was everything I’d fantasized he would be.
Resting next to him on the king-sized bed was a heart-shaped box. Looked like white satin, with a big red bow. But it wasn’t the candy box that caught my attention, it was the cute eye candy in the lacy white satin bikini undies—panties that matched the pattern of white satin on the candy box.
His online photo didn’t do him justice. No way, no how. I was salivating as I gazed at him. EyeCandy2933 certainly knew how to set up a sexy scene. I had to give him that. To the side, on the table, sat a bottle of cabernet, nicely chilling.
They were a set—he and the candy box. Small red bows decorated each side of his hips. Sitting there, on the bed like that, he held my rapt attention and my week of painful casualties slipped away. Casualties. Frustrated fantasies that never came to fruition.
Still, they hurt.
Of particular note was when Harvey Smith, the investment counselor who worked several floors above me, who’d given me some great advice, and for whom I’d had my romantic eye on for some time, announced at Willborn Pub, that he was getting married. And it wasn’t to me. I hadn’t even known he was involved with someone. I’d always thought someday maybe I’d get up the nerve to ask him out. Now it was too late. I always seemed to wait just a beat too long. But not this time I hoped.
The hotel door swung shut behind me with a solid latching sound of a small bank vault, shutting out the outside world. I forgot about Harvey.
Happy distraction. Happy Belated Valentine’s Day to me.
EyeCandy2933’s head was tipped to the side in demure fashion. Neatly trimmed thick wavy ink-black hair. Long, long black eyelashes swept downward in flirtatious shyness. A Persian harem boy, sweetly poised. At least a good fifteen years younger than me. Twenty maybe? No more than twenty-five, I’d say. At least that’s what he appeared from my less-than-astute assumptions on age. Minutia. Age, as long as he was legal, didn’t matter. And legal he was. He had golden tanned skin that spoke of long days spent in the sun. No tan marks that I could discern. He made me think of warm, Mediterranean, sapphire-blue, sparkling waters. Maybe he was Greek. Perhaps Italian. Maybe even Persian. His profile had been sketchy about his background. It didn’t really matter. He was perfect.
Then he craned his neck around to look at me and I caught my breath. Eyes of the Mediterranean, vivid and bright. Slowly he smiled, his teeth so white against his golden skin. Really nice smile.
“AchyHeart1945?” he asked, in a voice not too high, not too low. A tone that hinted at promises from between full lips that likely were fashioned to follow through on the invitation.
Though I couldn’t help blushing at the name—it was the first one that came to mind when I’d signed up for the dating site. I was frustrated with myself. Interesting that there were 1,944 other achy hearts before me. Once signed up I couldn’t take it back.
I cleared my throat.
“Yeah. I guess.”
He chuckled softly. “First time you’ve done something like this?” he gently asked.
I rubbed my sweaty palm against my trousers. “Yeah.” It was the only word that seemed to fully form inside my head.
I watched him unfold from the bed. Compact, hard in all the right places. The outline of his cock appeared stallion-proportioned beneath the flimsy lacy panties. God, but I loved those panties and what they hinted at. A swath of dark curly hair covered his well-constructed chest. More hair curled over the edges of the panties. Manly, I’d say. I liked that he wasn’t shaved. Pretty. Gorgeous. A mix of so many perfect things. Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, white lace-wrapped packages, and dark eyes that spoke volumes.These are a few of my favorite things. Okay, maybe those aren’t quite the right lyrics. But mom’s favorite movie, The Sound of Music, kept that tune spiraling inside my head. We’d just come off a marathon of holiday viewing, so no wonder it kept replaying in my mind. But the lyrics, those I’d made my own. Too bad. I’m not a kid anymore and with age I’ve learned to adapt. So should a classic song, right?
He padded toward me. “You’re just as I imagined. Have you another name? You can call me Noelle. Online is one thing, but here, in person, it should be something more intimate, don’t you think?”
“Noelle?” That surprised me. It made me think of Christmas. It made me think of snowy nights wrapped up before the fireplace with someone special. But I didn’t have someone special. I’d had fleeting somethings. I’d had fantasies. But not much more. Nothing ever seemed to turn into forevers, only here-and-nows. Gone tomorrows. Just as this would, too. I had no doubt. Noelle was way out of my league. I’m surprised he agreed to the night of hot sex we planned. But at least this time it would be at my choosing, not someone else’s. It was me who had suggested the just-sex angle. It could be fun, I’d said.
Noelle shrugged. “If you don’t like the name, you can call me whatever you like.”
I couldn’t read him. He was perfect, but I sensed something beneath the surface. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He glanced down—down at my cock. Hard beneath my trousers.
“N-Noelle is fine. I like it,” I said. I loved it. But I couldn’t tell him that. I did wonder if the name was real or made-up. “Y-you can call me…” I took a deep breath, “Jeffrey.” There, I’d done it. I’d given him my real name. Well, my middle name actually. It was still better than AchyHeart1945.
His lashes fluttered upward as he looked up at me. “Can I touch you, Jeffrey?” he asked in a steamy, flirtatious, sort of coyish manner. I sensed he’d done this before.
Oh, God, if my cock could get any harder—impossible. “Yes. Please.”
From his lips against mine, open-mouthed, tongue searching, to the feel of his strong, warm hands inside my pants, gripping my cock, time spun out of control.
“Mmm, hard already,” Noelle said. “I like that. Let’s get you undressed. I’m thinking you need to put that somewhere tight and warm. Do you want to fuck me, Jeffrey?”
Releasing February 7th, preorder now on Amazon
Foreplay is everything. And to help that along here’s a couple of upcoming February releases to prime the passion, so to speak. Valentine’s Day Countdown. The month of love and red velvet and silk, and chocolates. All things that include a bit of sweet temptation. Two releases, now ready for preorder on Amazon. Eye Candy & Achy Hearts, a gay contemporary erotic romance is set for release on February 7th. And then on February 13th, The Forever Heart, a steampunkish fairy tale, involving a woman guilder who heals hearts, an automaton with a clockwork heart, and a king – the king of hearts.
Here’s a little more about these stories.
[#MM #romance #erotic #kinkylace #chocolate #flirtyD/s]
Love has eluded Jeffrey all his life. In desperation late one night he signs up for an online dating site. What began as a way to ease Jeffrey’s aching lonely heart erupts into a real-life sexual encounter when he invites his online younger friend, EyeCandy2933 to join him in a steamy one-night hook-up, just for sex. Online fantasies can easily devolve into disappointment when confronted with real life. Will that be the case on this February night? When AchyHeart1945 finally meets EyeCandy2933, everything changes. Jeffrey may discover that love and romance at any age can be an amazing thing.
Teaser for you–
Friday night. It had been a long, exhausting week of not-so-happy surprises. I was desperate. I did this, perhaps selfishly, just for me.
I guess the devil had me by the balls when I sent off that message asking if he wanted to hook up in RL. That’s real life for those not in the know. I went full-out and revealed, in what felt like anonymous fashion, ’cause it was online and one can hide so easily behind a computer screen, my deepest, sexiest wet-dream fantasy. An online relationship can give you that kind of freedom. Makes you feel like you can just throw your fantasy out there, be someone you’re not. Be someone you want to be. I took my chances.
An email response from EyeCandy2933 told me I could have that fantasy. He wanted to give it to me. Sure, we’d been corresponding for several months now. Little flirtations, some pretty hot and sexy. Other times, late at night, we’d chat into the wee hours of the morning about anything and everything. The story of my life with relationships, I guess. I could ignore the email response he’d just sent me. I could ignore my yearnings. After all, I wasn’t the type to adventure out. I was a simple nerdy accountant who worked in a dusty little corner office with no windows. I was someone who didn’t have steamy, hot love affairs.
I thought about it for several days. There was something between us—EyeCandy2933 and me. We hadn’t just exchanged one-handed steamy explicit messages. We had actually “talked” about stuff that seemed to matter. So I took a chance, and almost gave myself a heart attack in the process.
I’ll be there.
I sent the message off, my heart pounding. What had I just done?
[#fairy tale #fantasy #erotic #romance #MMF]
Valentina Peacock of the Kingdom of Hartfall is a hearthealer guilder; her lover, Flavio, is an automated man with a ruby heart. Valentina’s past is lost to her and her craft of mending broken hearts and her lover at her side are all she needs or wants. Suddenly her calm, well-ordered world is shattered when Flavio brings her a summons from the heart-king–it is a royal command to attend his court. Will a journey to court bring back her memories of a forgotten love? Or will it shatter her finally and forever?
A short excerpt–
Flavio was an automaton man, infused with magic—her best friend, her lover. She couldn’t remember how or when they had first met, but it seemed as though he’d been a part of her life forever. He never asked for more than she could give and always knew when she needed him.
A slight skip and a shudder in the movement of his heart had required her immediate attention. A hearthealer guilder, a precise and intimate craft to be sure—she would allow no one else to administer to the heart of the man whom she could not bear the thought of losing.
Even though she couldn’t remember the exact circumstances under which her own human heart had been broken, she remembered the undeniable devastation of loss. It was a feeling she did not wish to experience again.
The repair turned out to be minor, but necessary—a warped pinion replaced, the delicate toothed wheel realigned, the casing and other workings cleaned and glossed. Having replaced the cover, polished the ruby veneer to a flawless finish, she then carefully lifted the remarkable heart from the table and turned to the inanimate man positioned on the other side of the room.
She drew closer, looking at him, admiring the fine breadth and dimension. How she could have come to care so deeply for an automaton often surprised her, but care she did. He was beautiful with his long dark, silky hair, strong features and sensual lips. Her gaze lowered to the flaccid cock that rested quietly against his body. The magic that fueled his human qualities now rested dormant while she worked on his heart. But when he was animated, by the stars what a wondrous creature he was.
Valentina placed the precious mechanism into the opened cavity of his chest, securing it meticulously into the casing filled with delicate wiring, tiny springs, and shiny slotted wheels. Once satisfied, she closed the panel to his chest, fastened it securely, then pulled the brass key from the pocket of her white apron. She fitted it to his navel, and twisted it.
It took a delicate, steady hand—one attuned to the mechanism to wind properly without shifting and causing irreparable injury to the workings. The mechanism should not be wound too tightly, nor allowed to remain too loose. The key fitted properly, she then fused her open palm flush to the pliable stretched muscle in the vicinity of his fine, solid chest. She willed a measure of her special hearthealer magical energy into his casing as she carefully turned the key, feeling the tension tighten in the mechanism surrounding the keyhole. Beneath her touch his skin warmed, the heat radiating through him as he slowly revived like waking from a long sleep.
Ear to his chest, she listened, her finely attuned hearing vigilant to the least nuance of change in the rhythm. Almost immediately the steady hum and whiz of perfectly weighted clockwork met her hearing. A smile of relief curled her lips when she felt a large hand cup the back of her head, pressing her close.
“As always,” a deep, rumbling voice said, “your work is unparalleled, my beautiful hearthealer.”
Happy February, everyone!