Tag: gay romance

Public Lives, Private Pleasures – an Excerpt

Public Lives, Private Pleasures

“…a complexly layered tale, rich in detail, with characters who will grab your heart…”

#erotic #contemporary #MM/M #gayromance

publiclivesprivatepleasures_medDescended from an old, very influential Virginia family with conservative views, Adrien has no desire to carry on the family’s political tradition. Still, he’s forced to hide his gay identity to protect the budding political career of his younger twin brother, Marsh, who wants to take up where their father, Senator Douglas Langtry, left off. There’s no room for mistakes, no matter how much Adrien hates living that lie.

It’s not until Adrien meets sexy Latin choreographer, Frankie Raphael, that his apathy evaporates, and he begins to questions his choices. Beautiful, passionate Frankie offers Adrien a glimpse into a world he’d only ever dared experience through the safety of the lens of his camera. Desire for Frankie makes his personal sacrifices seem suddenly unacceptable.

Dare Adrien jeopardize his brother’s political aspirations for a chance at his own happiness or will forces beyond his control slam the door shut on a life he’s only ever dreamed of? If he chooses to come out, their public lives be forever altered by the shocking revelation of their private pleasures.

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DN7RPPF

EXCERPT

It was as he was washing his hands that he happened to glance up in the mirror and then stilled as a pair of blazing green eyes captured his attention. He wiped his hands on a brown paper towel, tossed it, and then turned. For the moment the bathroom was empty except for Frankie and the man with the gorgeous green eyes. And the black silver-tipped cane.

“We’ve met before,” Frankie said. Yes, he was familiar, but if it hadn’t been for the cane, Frankie might not have recognized him. Long black hair that was now slightly disheveled and hanging loose about his shoulders almost hiding his face. Black mascara and liner that emphasized his eyes, pale complexion. Tonight he wasn’t wearing a conservative suit, but a pair of black jeans and black T-shirt that showcased his trim physique. The jeans outlined the thick bulge of an erection. The shirt was tight enough for Frankie to glimpse the outlined temptation of pierced nipples. God, he was even more tempting than the other night. He had to have this man. “Tad,” he said.

Tad’s eyes widened. Frankie could now see the green was ringed with gold, and he stepped toward the man. “You remembered,” Tad said.

Frankie smiled. He reached out a hand to trace a nipple through the fabric of the T-shirt. He gripped it with two fingers, twisted lightly, heard Tad suck in a breath. His pretty pupils dilated, almost obliterating the gold. “Yeah, I remembered.” He tugged, and Tad staggered forward. “God, I love your eyes. I’m surprised to see you here. I wouldn’t have thought it was your sort of hangout.”

He kneaded the nipple rhythmically, watching Tad’s expression, saw his gaze grow heavy with lust. But still he made no move.

“I-I come here now and then.”

“Do you? I don’t recall seeing you here before.” He released the tit and slid his hand suggestively down the front of the shirt to rest at Tad’s narrow hip. His fingers splayed at Tad’s waist, slid around to cup Tad’s sweet, tight ass, pulled forward until they were groin to groin.

“Oh, God,” Tad said and released another shuddering breath. Music pulsed in the background, making Frankie’s body throb.

“Do you want me?” Frankie asked. “Because I want to fuck you. Come home with me.” He led, his hand gripping Tad’s more firmly, leading into a slow grind. The cane clattered to the floor, and Frankie took Adrien’s weight easily. Feet slid across the floor, away from the cane, circling slowly, undulating to the music. Frankie felt Tad weakening, the rise in his body heat, the smell of arousal permeating the air in the bathroom, blending with his own scents. “I-I can’t.”

“Do you want to, Tad?” Frankie pressed him closer, both his hands now cupping Tad’s ass. “Do you want to do it right here? Right now?”

“W-what about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Kurt?”

The one you were—”

Frankie peered closer at Tad. “Were you watching us, Tad? Is that it? Do you get off watching people?”

Frankie saw the red flush creep up Tad’s neck and flood his face. “You were watching us. Which would you prefer—the handjob or the blowjob? Or maybe both.”

Suddenly Tad jerked back. He stumbled and righted himself, drew in deep breaths, and then turned to face Frankie once again.

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about what I want.” There was so much pain attached to the words that Frankie almost winced. Pain dripping with desire.

Frankie leaned back against the sink, studying Tad. He narrowed his gaze. “Who are you, Tad? That’s not your real name, is it? What are you hiding, I wonder?” He tugged the black leather billfold out from his back pocket and pulled out a card. He replaced the wallet and then moved to Tad. First he bent down and snapped up the cane and handed it to Tad. Tad leaned heavily on the cane.  Then with one hand Frankie pulled at Tad’s waistband. With his other hand he slipped the black and silver business card down the front, fitted it snugly between the moist, hot flesh of his abdomen and the rock-hard penis. Frankie took his time about fitting the card into place. He stroked a finger slowly along the veined erection, over the ridge of Tad’s glans. He smeared the liquid of preejaculate across the head before removing his hand. God, but he wanted this man so damned bad. He was a tenacious hunter, and he had the scent.

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Home For Christmas – Excerpt

Home For Christmas

homeforchristmascoverDestrie Two Rivers and Benedict Webster–an orphaned half-Indian and a wealthy rancher’s son. Men who were boyhood best friends, turned secret lovers when they were eighteen. And then one nightmarish night they were discovered and Destrie almost died as a result.

Now, eight years later, just before Christmas, Destrie, an Army sniper, returns to Wyoming on leave to attend the funeral of his foster father. Both men have changed and the distance between them seems wider than the Continental Divide with no way to breach the chasm. But just as the creek where they first made love runs powerful and constant, Destrie and Benedict’s passion for each other still burns undeniably deep

and everlasting.

Re-igniting their unquenchable desire could prove fatal. Until the heavy guilt and shocking secrets of the past are revealed, neither of these two men can truly come home for Christmas.

EXCERPT:

“How’s Laine holding up?” Benedict asked.

“It’s not easy for her, but I think she’ll be okay. They were married for fifty years, and she always said Ray was her best friend. You’ll look in on her?”

“Of course.” Benedict’s voice sounded rough. The white peaks in the water surged; Ray’s ashes had disappeared.

Destrie looked down and noted Benedict’s hands as his fingers curled around the brim of his hat. Destrie could feel his tension, saw it as he flexed his fingers, rubbing over the rim.

A working man’s hands, rough and calloused. Reddened by the winter, his hands were littered with tiny cuts. Destrie dropped the urn and spun to Benedict. He cupped Benedict’s roughened jaw, leaned forward, and kissed him.

Benedict’s hands clutched at Destrie’s leather jacket, dragging him forward. Destrie tasted the bitterness of farewell, and he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t be the one to walk away—not this time.

Tongues clashed, mouths hungered as they held on to each other, knowing this could very well be the last time they would ever see each other.

Benedict yanked free and stumbled back. Just as he’d done in the alley, he bent over to pick up his hat. And soon it would only be the memory that remained.

Suddenly, Destrie reached out and grabbed a shank of Benedict’s pale blond hair. He yanked up. Benedict yelled as he was brought up swift and hard by Destrie’s grip. Destrie saw his gaze widen. Throwing his body against Benedict’s, he shoved him back against the immovable, wide, ancient tree.

He held his lover there, hand wound tightly into his thick hair. Benedict stared into his eyes. Destrie saw the range of emotions as they crashed through him, the color of Benedict’s eyes changing so rapidly. Sky blue deepening to storm gray. Pinpoints of black that dilated as he began to yield to the savageness that overtook Destrie. Finally understanding. He knew what Destrie wanted without his saying a word.

Destrie yanked back, practically pinning Benedict against the rough bark, shoving his coat down over his shoulders. Benedict’s thick coat dropped to the ground. His hands reached for his belt, and he quickly unbuckled and unzipped his jeans, then shoved them and his underwear down over his hips. Legs spread, balancing himself in the slippery snow; the lowered clothing hung just below his ass.

Destrie released his hair and spun him around. He kicked Benedict’s legs as wide as they would go. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of snow and held it in his warm palm until droplets trickled between his fingers.

He couldn’t wait. He and Benedict were almost the same height. He used the snow to lubricate Benedict’s hole. He heard Benedict gasp when the icy water was pressed into the passage of his hot anus. He shoved back when Destrie’s fingers speared inward, then quickly out. More snow and Benedict’s ass colored from pale ivory to ruddy rose.

Suddenly Benedict whirled around. He shoved Destrie back full force. Destrie stumbled and landed in the snow. He didn’t feel it; his full attention was the man towering over him, a look of steely determination on his face.

“Did you think I was going to make it easy for you?” Benedict said.

He dragged Destrie up by the lapels of his jacket. Spinning around, he slammed him back against the tree and possessed his mouth, thrusting his tongue deeply between Destrie’s lips.

Destrie was so taken aback by the dominant act, at first he didn’t respond. Benedict’s hands were at his waist, ripping the tails of his shirt from inside his pants, reaching for the opening, unzipping them, and then he shoved them down. His mouth ravaged across Destrie’s lips, over his lean, darkened jaw, back to his mouth, down to his throat. He sucked his way downward to the opened collar.

Anger and frustration warred with passion and lust right there next to the creek bank. The cold, frigid winter was no match for the hungry, blazing furnace of their need.
Benedict lifted his head and looked into Destrie’s black eyes. “Now, you have me.”
Destrie didn’t wait to even catch a breath. With little effort, he shoved Benedict back against the tree. He was hard, so fucking hard. He positioned the head of his cock at Benedict’s opening.

“You’ll feel this, lover. You’ll feel it, and you’ll never forget it.” He surged forward, burying his thick prick inside Benedict’s rectum. Benedict grunted as Destrie’s cock tunneled deep inside him.

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Currently a #kindleunlimited selection.

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JD61V3R

 

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Delicious Sinn

BLURB:

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Two men, born with a Montana-bred sense of adventure. Neither stays, both leave to make their fortune. Each walked a different line, made different choices. Both ended up in Seattle. One a jaded and scarred rocker with no dreams left; the other a young photo journalist who has a gift for dealing with wild things.

Both men have secrets. But one night’s chance encounter in a Seattle nightclub, will likely change their lives forever….

 

 

EXCERPT:

“What do you think my professions is?” Will responded.

Sinn gazed at him for long moments before answering. “Outdoors. You’re no more a man to sit behind a desk than me. Contractor? Engineer? Architect?” He pulled the hand on his ass around and examined it, even as they continued to sway to the music. He ran his hand over Will’s. He sucked the middle finger into his mouth. It proved another chance to show off his expert sucking abilities to Will. Slowly he pulled the glistening finger from his mouth and again examined it.

“Tanned, callused. But very tasty.” He tilted his head and looked into Will’s eyes. “Nothing soft about you. Not on the outside anyway. You climb rocks, don’t you? You’ve got hands that have done work. They’re used to doing it. And a body chiseled with hard muscle. Got any ideas on what you could do with that wet finger? Seems a shame to waste it.”

“Ah, too quick,” Will said. He tightened the fingers of his other hand around the handmade leather leash. “That’s a privilege you have to earn.”

Sinn quirked a slender blond brow. “Earn it? Exactly how should I go about earning your finger up my ass?”

Will whirled him around the floor as the music segued into some classic oldies. At the head of the playlist appeared to be “Slow Dancing” by Johnny Rivers.

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of some way for you to earn a good reaming.”

Sinn leaned up to kiss him, but Will pulled back. “Ah-ah. Did I say you could kiss me?”

Sinn looked shocked. “You expect me to ask?”

“I take it that’s a first for you. Something tells me you’ve had it pretty easy for a long time. A crook of the finger and men have dropped to their knees for you real easy.”

Something darkened in Sinn’s expression. The look intrigued Will. He saw something there, something that had to do with memories, something deep inside Sinn that he tried to hide. Will wanted it–whatever it was, he was going to peel back the exterior of Sinn Midnite and expose what lay beneath. He already knew some of it, but he planned to make Sinn admit all of it. Will sensed whatever it was, it was the key to the anger threaded through Sinn’s music.

He saw the vulnerability, something else Sinn Midnight kept safely hidden from discovery. He whirled Sinn off the dance floor into a darkened corner, shoving him up against the wall. His balled fist–the one wrapped in leather thong snuggled against the hollow of his throat, slowly rode upward along the curve, nudged beneath the tip of his bearded jaw, leather tangling with the pale hair, forcing Sinn’s head back, and back, stretched taut. Sinn wrapped his hand around Will’s wrist. Will saw desperation, fear…and something else, as Will stared into his widened, dilated gaze.

“When was the last time you were fucked, Sinn? When was the last time you let any of them have you? When was the last time it was you on your knees to someone?”

The look in Sinn’s eyes was now more a trapped animal, than the wild, unfettered thing Will had first encountered on the dance floor.

“Fuck you!” Sinn growled the words. Will tightened his grip on the tether.

“That’s not an answer. And it’s not going to get my cock up your ass. And that’s what you want, isn’t it Sinn? You want my young prick reaming you like you’ve never been fucked before. You’re so tired of the easy conquests. Tired of the fanboys. You want a man–a young one who can go the distance. One to make you feel again–to make you hungry–to make you beg. I wonder why? Why now? Why me? Do you think I can make you beg, Sinn? Tell me that’s what you want, beg me. And maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want–exactly what you need. More than your darkest dreams. Beg me.”

So many things were going on in Sinn’s expression as he stared up at Will. Eyes truly were the mirrors to the soul and right now Sinn’s soul was bared totally to Will’s view. A struggle was going on inside Sinn. A terrible struggle. And Will waited. He had no doubt what the outcome would be, none at all. It seemed he knew Sinn’s heart, his soul, almost as well as his own.
Will had done his homework before coming here tonight. He’d done it well.

He leaned in closer to Sinn. “What do you really want?” he whispered against Sinn’s ear. “Just say it. Admit it. Say the words we both know you want to say.”

Sinn’s lips trembled, a contradiction to the tautness of his body. He would fight it, all the way. But inside, the man’s needs would leverage the outcome. He wanted Will and there was only one way to have him. They both knew what his answer had to be. Sinn was not going to walk away.

“Show me how bad you want it. What would you do to get me to kiss you? What would you do to have me fuck you?”

Slowly he removed his fist from beneath Sinn’s jaw, he unwound the thong, let the end drape down Sinn’s chest. He stepped away. It was now or never. This was the deciding moment. For a full minute Sinn stared at him, eye-to-eye. Then slowly, oh-so-slowly he dropped to his knees.

 

Now available at these ebook outlets:

 

Universal Purchase Link: http://books2read.com/delicioussinn

Smashwords Buy Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/282281

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A1TMGHU

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Excerpt from Eye Candy and Achy Hearts

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(#MM #romance #erotic #kinkylace #chocolate #flirtyD/s)

Love and romance have eluded Jeffrey all his life. He still lives in his mother’s house, he hates his job as an accountant, and he’s never been in love. In desperation, he signs up as AchyHeart1945 for an online dating site. For three months, he enjoys late-night exchanges with a man using the screen name EyeCandy2933. What began as a way to ease Jeffrey’s aching, lonely heart erupts into a real-life sexual encounter when, on a whim, he invites his younger friend to join him in a one-night-only, no-string-attached, steamy hook-up. And EyeCandy2933 accepts. But online fantasies can easily devolve into disappointment when confronted with reality. Will that be the case on this Valentine’s Day?

Jeffrey has finally reached a point when he has to take a chance or go out of his mind. But when AchyHeart1945 finally meets EyeCandy2933, everything changes. For good or for bad is yet to be determined. Jeffrey may discover that love and romance at any age can be an amazing thing.

Excerpt:

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?

But just the thought of what awaited kept me hard and hurting for the last few days as I tried to steel myself for the mounting pressure of tax season as credits, debits, and deadlines pummeled at my brain. I needed to breathe, I needed space, I needed a fantasy even more than I needed oxygen.

I knew from our exchanges over the last three months–and I don’t mean explicit photos of his cock or mine–I knew EyeCandy2933 was literate, he knew how to spell, he could string his thoughts together in intelligent fashion. I knew his photo likely wasn’t a real image of himself, but it didn’t matter. I was certainly no prize. Online relationships weren’t always known for being truthful. But the way he represented himself in his emails, I found him very sexy. Word-sexy. My kind of guy sexy.

We exchanged thoughts on the most recent bestseller, on financial matters–cliffs and crises. We argued in friendly fashion. We agreed that the latest hot action flick left us lukewarm. We both liked yoga and hiking. He liked Spanish food; I liked American. He had his own apartment; I still lived with my elderly mother. He was finishing up a doctorate in Latin American studies; I was established in a job as a CPA and well into a somewhat mundane career that no longer satisfied in the way it once had. He liked dark chocolate; I like butterscotch.

In my bedroom at my mother’s house, late at night, when I was feeling my loneliest, I’d lock the door, stretch out on the twin-sized bed in my plaid boxers, a cold bottle of beer on the nightstand, and I’d flip open my laptop. Eyecandy2933 would be there waiting. I’d envision him sitting there on his bed–a big one. Tight bikini underwear that left nothing to the imagination, ripped bod–fuck it made me so hard thinking about what he might be like in RL. Even though I was a coward, he never failed me.

I couldn’t believe we were finally going to meet. Would he be disappointed? We’d never used the vidcam. I think we both wanted the fantasy of what might be waiting on the other side. Would I be disappointed, when we finally met in person?

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.

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MS3QKOH
Books2Read Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/mYRLvw
Smashwords Buy Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/723686

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TODAY ONLY – GET ODIUM for .99

On Amazon, Odium is a Kindle Countdown selection. TODAY – .99 – 67% off,  TOMORROW $1.99 – 34% off.

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Odium by Adrianna Dane (#MM, #eroticromance, #contemporary, #bdsm, #submission)
Something is missing from Chaz’s life and it’s going to kill his career as an artist if he can’t resolve it. What’s missing is passion—real, honest-to-goodness passion—and emotional connection. Without it, there is no art. In desperation to find answers, Chaz takes a job at an all-night diner, hoping something, or someone, will spark that passion.
He’s not wrong, because one night, a mysterious man with a simple tattoo enters the diner. Chaz senses something different about the stranger, and becomes intrigued when the man arrives with a different date every Friday night. And what transpires in that last booth on Fridays at midnight is enough to spark anyone’s libido.

Icarus Smith, a former slave in the BDSM world, is trying to break out of a lifestyle that has become onorous and destructive. And he has taken drastic measures to accomplish this, but it’s not easy turning to affluent clients with dark needs for the only relationships he allows himself. Things, however, are about to change. … When a new employee shows up at the diner, all hell breaks loose for both Chaz and Icarus as they fight against the unrelenting grip of fate.

Two men, vastly different, and yet some spark, some need, some danger draws one to the other. Is it simply desperation, or can this be true love, the one thing that has eluded both men until now?

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078VQXVW2

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Mariposa Soul – an excerpt

Andre spends his time globetrotting around the world and flitting from bed to bed, never tempted to stay in any of them.  Always searching for that soul his would recognize as the one he couldn’t live without.  A chance encounter teaches him something about himself he would never have expected.

 

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He turned a corner, heard the echo of a lonely siren in the distance, felt the moisture of late night rain cling to his face.

He should take that assignment his editor offered him today. It would send him far away from the temptation for a good year. Then maybe the aching need would finally dissipate and he would remember how good it felt to ease his body inside a woman’s soft caress.

Who was he trying to kid? Those days had been destroyed forever. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his coat. His fingers encountered the sharp edges of a business card and a wave of longing sliced through him. He didn’t have to pull it out to know whose card it was. He had it memorized, the name seared into his brain.

            You have a butterfly’s soul, Andre, beautiful and fragile. I await the day you set it free to live the way it is meant to live. Come to me when you are ready.

             He’d fought it for so long, trying to lose himself within other warm bodies, in other arms, through other lips. He’d tried so damned hard to surround himself with the scent of women, to make him forget.

But they had all paled, and were all forgotten because he could only remember one set of arms, one mouth that consumed and pulled at his soul, eyes that stroked him to life and filled the loneliness of his soul, like nothing had ever done before.

His response had scared him, yet excited him. He’d wanted to give in to the feelings, and although they’d felt right at the time, he’d shied from acknowledging what they meant about him.

He stopped walking and looked up at the street sign and sighed. Pulling deeply on the cigarette, he tossed it down and ground it with the heel of his shoe. It was as though it was inevitable his footsteps should have carried him to this particular street corner. He’d fought the feelings for so long and was tired of the struggle. The confusion inside him swirled around him, ever present no matter where he went or whom he was with.

But suddenly, as he looked up at the street sign, his hand closed over the card in his pocket. Mariposa Street. Was it a sign that he should accept the message of the soul he’d tried to forget? In Spanish, mariposa meant butterfly.

Was he finally ready to accept the nature of his needs to feel complete? He turned toward the street, saw a taxi, and hailed it. He felt the flutter of trapped wings beating inside his soul. Was he ready to fly? He knew he feared leaving the safe, familiar boundaries of his cocoon.

The taxi pulled up, he opened the door, and stepped inside.

“Where to?” the older gentleman asked him.

Again, his fingers encountered the card in his pocket, like a talisman. He didn’t need to take it out to provide the driver with the address.

“Twenty-one Morgan Street—to the Morgantown Apartments.”

The driver nodded, pulled away from the curb, and Andre settled back in the seat, his heart pounding—was it excitement or fear?

 

Now available at most ebook retailers

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Excerpt from Joe Gallant

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Joe Gallant, playboy race car driver, a man headed down the path of self-destruction. Roberto Morgan, suave up and coming young Dallas attorney, on the fast track to prominence and success. Secrets, lies, and a combustible attraction. Two men bound by the secrets of the past class and burn beneath the hot Texas skies. Will the past secrets of the fathers destroy their sons’ chance at happiness in the present? The fathers may have gotten it wrong; can the sons get it right without losing the one chance either man has for finding lasting happiness and love?

 

Excerpt

Inside the rough, weather-beaten wood structure, the music decibel hit eardrum splitting levels. Peanut shells litter the old rough wood-planked floors. Several of his acquaintances made room for the three men at their table. Here, Joe didn’t have to pay, but the drinks kept on coming. Tight-jeaned, big-breasted women with tiny waists kept both him and Dev on the dance floor. Joe noticed Rob politely refused, and the only drink he ordered appeared to be mineral water with a twist of lemon.

It wasn’t until quite a bit later that things seemed to quiet down and he found himself sitting next to Rob, everyone else out on the dance floor. He downed another draft, parched and sweating after the last two-step with the blond now draped against a cowboy at the end of the bar.“You’re not drinking,” Joe pointed out as he set down his empty glass and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

A sexy waitress placed another in front of him. His leg rubbed against Rob’s and even as drunk as he was, he started to feel horny. He glanced at Rob—dark-haired, tawny-skinned, remote, untouchable Rob Morgan—and felt the urge to kiss him, but not inside the crowded roadhouse. Somewhere quiet, where he could take his time exploring that sweet mouth of his.

Joe studied Rob, and this close, he could see the color of his eyes. They weren’t brown, like he expected. Definitely blue. Cobalt with flashes of gold framed by long, black eyelashes. Certainly not ordinary. But then nothing about him was ordinary. Not the red in his hair, not the blue eyes, not one thing about him that did not make Joe’s temperature rise. Then his gaze fastened onto his mouth…sculptured lips, wet from the drink he’d just finished.

“You have a lover back in Dallas?” Joe couldn’t help asking, never taking his eyes off Rob’s tasty-looking mouth. The man seemed nervous; his tongue flicked out. Joe’s glance moved upward.

Rob’s eyes widened in surprise. Obviously, the question had taken him by surprise.
“No. I haven’t had time for relationships of that nature.”
“Too busy trying to make your mark, hmm?” He was definitely a man on the rise. He sure had the looks to get him there. And with Aaron backing him, likely it wouldn’t take long.

“I guess you might say that.” Joe watched him take another sip from his glass. He licked his lips. Now Joe’s whole focus was on getting a taste of him. What would Harper Morgan’s son do if Joe just leaned over and claimed a big ole kiss? Would Rob yield the way Harper had yielded all those years ago to Aaron? What would Rob do if Joe kissed him? Right here in the middle of the Texas roadhouse. That sure would start folks’ tongues a-wagging, now wouldn’t it?

Suddenly, Joe felt like he was suffocating, and his head began to spin. “Gotta go,” he slurred as he unsteadily got up from the table. He needed fresh air. It seemed like forever before he found the exit door and burst outside into the cooling desert night. He took several deep gulps of fresh air. He stumbled and someone caught him before he toppled over and made more of a fool of himself than he already had.

“I’ve got you,” Rob said. “I think maybe it’s time to head back to the house.”

Joe nodded and simply held on as Rob dragged him toward the Jaguar. He propped him up and started to open the door.

Joe stopped him. Rob glanced back.

“If you had a lover, would it be a man or a woman?” This far out in the parking lot, there was no one else around. No one but the crickets, the frogs, and the moon up above.
Something flickered in Rob’s eyes. Joe cupped his face. “Man or woman?” he murmured just before he leaned in and stole that kiss he just had to have.

Rob didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned forward and Joe deepened the kiss. He thrust his tongue between Rob’s lips. He twisted and it was Rob who backed up against the car. Joe was so hungry—ravenous because he tasted so good and Joe just had to have more.

“Joe! Where the hell are you?”

This time Dev was the man doing the interrupting.

It was Rob who moved first, the parking lot light caught and glanced off his watch. That’s all it took for Joe to regain his senses. What the hell was he just doing kissing Rob Morgan? Harper’s son? Fuck. He was quite obviously too damned drunk.

Rob called to Dev. Joe slipped into the backseat of the car and leaned his head against the back of the front seat. How many more regrets did a man get in his life? How many more stupid moves was he going to make?

Dev slipped into the passenger seat, then Rob got behind the wheel. Joe didn’t look up. It was Dev who kept up the conversation, lulling Joe into a stupor. It was nightmares of the night back in Dallas when he’d had his accident that jolted him awake. But he wasn’t in the Jaguar, he was in the ranch house, in his bed. His head pounded and he felt like shit. Morning sunlight was streaming in through the window. And he was naked. What the hell had happened? And how had he missed it? Who exactly had put him to bed?
Shit! What had he done now?

Dev strolled into his room carrying a Bloody Mary. “About time you woke up.”

“What time is it?” Joe mumbled as he rolled out of bed with the beige sheet wrapped around his hips. He took the drink and downed in. His mouth felt like crap, too. He peered up at Dev. “Did you put me to bed?”

Dev looked sheepish. “Can’t say I was in much better condition than you. Nope, wasn’t me. That would be Rob.”

Joe dropped back onto the bed, an arm slung over his eyes. Could it get much worse?

 

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Steamy Little Excerpt from Eye Candy and Achy Hearts

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

 

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Snow, Reading, and Holidays

Looking out my window and seeing some snow again. Not a particularly usual thing here in Washington State, but I do enjoy holiday snow. And it doesn’t last too long here. In a flurry of activity this month and the year-end is fast approaching. Wow, 2016 did go quickly. Been doing the revamp of goals for 2017. A lot of changes this past year, but new things are opening up. I’m excited about the coming year. And we even have some snow, and not rain, for a bit this holiday.ad_homechristmas_coversm

Have a couple of books out that center around the holidays. Both are gay erotic romances published by Loose Id. “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” and “The Messenger.” “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” is about a couple of contemporary cowboys reunited at the holidays. and “The Messenger” has a  a bit of mystery attached to the holidays.

So, in the mood for a bit of holiday reading? These two stories might just be  the thing. 🙂

The Messenger by Adrianna Dane, #gayromance #eroticromance #contemporary.
 
…The Messenger took me by surprise. … Adrianna Dane did a great job with the suspense and intrigue of The Messenger as well as creating wonderful characters. –JoyfullyReviewed.com
 
Dillon Lloyd has had the hots for his attractive neighbor, Vance Keith, for quite some time. He’s spent many nights in voyeuristic pleasure while the gorgeous man next door has sex with his current male lover in varied and delicious ways. Even so, Dillon has never entertained the idea of actually asking Vance out on a date. For one thing, Vance is a client of Dillon’s delivery business. And business and pleasure should never mix.
 
All that changes when a package–a gift that Vance had sent to his most recent lover–turns up undeliverable. Dillon takes a chance and decides to return the package to Vance himself in hopes that maybe a miracle of the season will happen for him.
 
When Vance and Dillon meet in person the sparks ignite. And when Vance invites Dillon into his apartment on this icy winter night, though the weather outside is frightful, the heat between them is more than delightful. Their blistering passion sets a torch to the holiday festivities offering a bounty of unexpected gifts.
But things in Vance’s past jealously battle for his future happiness and won’t stop at murder to win.
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