Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with another wonderful Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from my current WIP, a M/M contemporary story set in a medical research center that I will hopefully be submitting to Evernight’s Executive Assistant antho call sometime this week. I always knew that those years of managing research grants would finally come in handy!

Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!

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Peter pushed the Men’s Room door open, ready to argue. “I do not appreciate being ignored when you’re the one–” he started.

Then stopped. Quincy stood topless at one of the sinks, angrily scrubbing at a large red stain on his shirt. Half-naked, the short man was disconcertingly muscular, with broad shoulders and lean, well-defined arms.

But it was his torso that was truly a thing of beauty. Peter’s mouth abruptly went dry as he studied the delineation of muscle, ligament, and bone that made up John Quincy’s midsection. Oh, damn me. That’s just not fair.

The administrative assistant looked up and spotted him. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he grumbled. “Ursula ran right into me and splashed this shit all over my shirt. And it reeks.”

“Oh.” Peter took a tentative sniff, and winced. “Fixative, I believe. You won’t be able to get it out of a white shirt.”

Quincy scowled, holding up the soaking shirt. A pale pink stain was still very obvious across the chest. “Goddamn it. I liked this shirt, too.”

He started wringing out the fabric, muttering under his breath. The motion did wonderful things to his obliques, and Peter had a sudden vision of stepping closer and pressing his lips to one pale shoulder, tasting smooth skin and salt. Trailing down across the firm curve of a pectoral muscle, listening to Quincy’s soft, questioning moan as he mouthed a nipple, then moving to the low valley between pectorals, a fine line of dark hair prickling against his lips as he kissed his way down–

He realized Quincy had stopped wringing and was staring at him. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“Uh, no. But you’re, um … you’re looking at me.” Quincy glanced down at his chest, then at his reflection in the mirrors over the sinks. “Did I miss some of that crap?

“No. It’s just … I wasn’t expecting you to be so…”

The other man raised an eyebrow, obviously expecting one of Peter’s usual insults. “Pale?” he snarked. “Freckled? You already knew I was a runt, so that can’t come as a surprise.”

“Muscular. You’re muscular,” Peter managed. Christ, you’re gorgeous. Bernini would have been reaching for a hammer and chisel by this point.

“Oh.” Quincy’s brows lowered in surprise, and for a moment Peter panicked that he’d said it out loud. “Uh. Yeah, well, when you’re 5’6” and mouthy, you learn to hit the gym if you don’t want to get the shit kicked out of you.”

“I see.” Peter let his gaze trail down, to the lovely V-shaped crease of the inguinal ligaments. It was one of his favorite spots on the male body, and Quincy’s ligaments were beautifully defined. Unable to resist, he studied how they disappeared under the man’s waistband, a natural pathway to the groin and– Oh.

To his shock, he saw Quincy was slightly tumescent, the outline of what looked like a very respectable cock just pressing against the twill fabric. With an effort, he dragged his attention away from the mouthwatering bulge, back to Quincy’s face. It was flushed, and the man’s dark green irises had shrunk to a thin line, almost disappearing next to the wide-open pupil. A faint blue line in his throat pulsed to an accelerated beat, and his chest rose and fell more rapidly now, pale nipples tightening and turning into tiny rivets.

Pupillary dilation. Flushed skin, increased respiration and heartbeat. Erectile response. The unconscious reflexes of physical attraction. Peter felt a rush of elation sizzle through him. He wants me. Oh, God. He actually wants me.

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