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Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
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 Behind the Iron Cross, my historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin (which I will hopefully have finished by the end of September, please God).
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
“You two look comfortable.”
Friedrich cracked one eye open. The Fräulein stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Sam and him. Her face was in shadow, hiding her expression.
Sam stirred next to him, giving her a sleepy grin. “Oh, hi, sweetheart,” he said. “We met up in town for lunch, and then we came back here. I’m afraid we fell asleep.”
“So I see.” She settled on the end of the mattress, hunching over a bit. “I’m glad some of us had a pleasant day.”
Sam sat up, more alert now. “What’s wrong?”
Those slim shoulders shrugged. “Not the best of days. Schoengraff still won’t talk to us, and we lost Gimmel. Brayburn got to them first.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Unconcerned by his nudity, Sam climbed out of the bedcovers and moved down to the other end of the bed, gently pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed, resting back against him. “We had the entire deal set up. All we needed were signatures on the partnership papers. And I walked in there this afternoon to see all of them smirking at me, ever so pleased with themselves as they gave me the news. Bastards.”
Friedrich felt out of place, watching the two of them cuddle. He started to get out of bed and Sam glanced back at him. The American shook his head, looking meaningfully at the pillows. Confused, Friedrich sat back, waiting.
Sam turned back to the Fräulein. “Darling, why don’t you shuck out of all this and let us take care of you? We’ll give you a nice, long back rub, then pop you in the tub for a soak while we order dinner. Sound good?”
Another sigh, heavier this time. “I suppose.”
To Friedrich’s surprise, she slipped out of her tailored jacket and blouse without a second thought, tossing them carelessly on the floor with her skirt. Underneath, she wore a cream silk slip that clung to her body in delicious ways, outlining the small, shapely curves of her breasts and hips. With Sam’s encouragement, even this was pulled off and deposited on the floor, leaving her in a bra and flimsy silk knickers.
Friedrich’s mouth went dry. He knew the Fräulein was beautiful, knew it in the same way that the Venus di Milo was beautiful. It was a cool, unattainable beauty, something more to worship than hold in his arms. But now, she was a tired, aggravated woman who simply wanted to stretch out after a long, difficult day and be tended to.
And his cock swelled at the thought. He tugged the bedclothes higher, trying to camouflage his sudden desire. Sam noticed the tenting at his groin and shot him a quick grin as he moved the Fräulein up the bed, encouraging her to stretch out on her stomach. “You relax, sweetheart. Let us take care of you.”
She mumbled something into her pillowed arms, eyes already closed. Friedrich realized they were shadowed, soft smudges of exhaustion visible now in the cupped curve. The desire abated a bit, replaced by an unexpected tenderness. She’s been working so hard. She must be exhausted, poor katze.
He knelt on the bedcovers at her side, looking to Sam for guidance. The American man reached over to the bedside table, picking up the bottle of lotion there. He shook out a good palmful of the creamy liquid, then gestured for Friedrich to hold out his own hand and deposited more lotion in it.
Friedrich followed him, rubbing the lotion between his hands to warm it, then bringing it to the Fräulein’s skin. The men mirrored each other as they worked up and down her spine, rubbing the taut muscles there. Friedrich skirted the band of her bra, but Sam just shook his head and expertly unhooked it, flipping the freed ends to either side. “Better, sweetheart?”
“Mmm.”
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Mid Week Tease: Breaker Zone #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! I’m finishing up the final edits for Breaker Zone in preparation for submission, so I thought I’d use a scene from it as this week’s tease.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
When Dr. Nick Gardiner goes on the run from a psychotic ex and ends up at Olympic Cove, the last thing he expects to find is his friend Ian living with two redheaded demigods and learning how to be a storm god. Adding to the confusion is a wounded merman named Aidan who washes up in the cove, requiring Nick’s professional help. As it turns out, the handsome mer and his partner Liam have other plans for the ER doctor — to claim him as their agapetos, their destined mate, and fulfill his need to submit.
A chance encounter at a local junk shop reveals that Nick has his own role to play in the battle against the insane Nereid Thetis. Under the reluctant mentorship of Chiron, Nick must master the use of the Rod of Asclepius if he wants to rescue his mates from a ghastly fate and help Ian save the planet.
###
Liam let Nick’s hands go. They dropped to his sides and his dark head tilted, exposing the long line of muscle and tendon just waiting to be decorated with bite marks and sucking kisses. Oh, their chuisle knew how to lure attention.
But Liam knew how to wait. Instead of putting his mouth to Nick’s offered throat, he whispered, “Now, we’re going to take off your clothes.”
A shiver ran through Nick at that. Liam paused, trying to judge if it had been caused by lust or fear. The reality of the situation came back to him — the last time Nick had played with anyone, his trust had been shattered and his body damaged. They were swimming through jellyfish-laden waters here, and one wrong move could drive their fated mate even further away from them.
He bent close to Nick’s ear again. “If something upsets you, you will tell us immediately, do you understand? We’ll sit down tomorrow and have a long talk about what you can and cannot do, and I swear to you that Aidan and I will respect your limits. But tonight is purely for your pleasure and comfort.”
He heard Nick swallow, and the shivering died down. “Good. Now, take a deep breath.”
Their mate’s ribcage expanded, filling with the air all his kind needed. “Another.” Liam ran his hands over Nick’s shoulders, enjoying the feel of the curved muscle there. “Good. I’m going to take off your shirt.”
Moving with deliberation, he slid all the buttons through their holes, tugging the smooth fabric off and tossing it to the side. He took in a soft breath, admiring Nick’s muscle definition. It wasn’t as pronounced as a mer’s, but his back and shoulders had beautifully delineated hollows and rises that implied strength and agility. Liam’s mouth watered with the sudden urge to bite into one firm shoulder.
Instead, he ran just the pads of his fingertips across Nick’s skin, tracing the outline of his upper body. On the other side Aidan had stepped closer, running his own fingers along Nick’s chest and abs. Their mate made a soft, hungry noise deep in his throat, and Aidan flashed that irresistible smile. “I think you like this, chuisle.”
“Mmm.”
Liam leaned close, nipping Nick’s earlobe again. “Use your words,” he ordered gently.
“Yes, I like this, sir.” The response was soft, almost dreamy.
Liam caught Aidan’s eye, then glanced down meaningfully. At the same time he slid his hands down Nick’s arms, gently ringing his wrists and drawing them behind his back. “You’re still wearing too much.”
“Far too much,” Aidan agreed, sinking to his knees. Liam watched over Nick’s shoulder as the other mer started undoing Nick’s belt, teasingly drawing the leather through the loops, before easing down his zipper. Nick made another noise, deeper this time.
He likes being restrained and controlled. Liam felt his own desire rise, and firmly corralled it. Tonight is for him, to show him he belongs with us.
Nick gasped suddenly, twitching in his grip. Glancing down, Liam saw his other mate planting an open-mouthed kiss at the base of Nick’s hardening cock through his underwear.
“Did I say you could do that, boy?” he asked Aidan, putting a growl into his voice.
The green-eyed mer leaned back, face shadowed in the room’s dim light. “I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t resist a taste.”
Liam was tempted to correct him, but their focus had to remain on Nick. “I’ll deal with you later,” he rumbled, and saw goosebumps rise on Nick’s skin. The idea obviously appealed. “Hm. Would you like that, chuisle? I could tie you to the headboard and make you watch me punish Aidan. I’d bend him over the end of the bed and turn his ass a lovely red as you watched. Then I’d put him on his hands and knees and fuck him while he looked at you.”
This time both his mates groaned at the image he’d created. “I wouldn’t let him come for a long time,” Liam murmured, enjoyed the sensation of his own cock plumping out and pressing against the fabric of his shorts. “And every time I thrust into him, his mouth would come closer and closer to your cock, almost close enough to suck it. But never quite close enough. And all the time I was fucking him, all you could do is sit there, hard and aching so badly, and watch us.”
Nick’s head dropped back onto his shoulder. “Please, sir,” he whispered.
“Mm. Such a good boy.” He nodded at Aidan, and the other mer finished taking Nick’s trousers down, then his briefs. “If you’re very good and earn it, I may let you come tonight. No promises, though.”
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Well, I’m back (and with good news!)
So there I was, sitting in my hotel room in London (Ramón and I were attending the World Science Fiction Convention, long story) when I decided to get online and check my email. Lo and behold, an acceptance email for my Planet Alpha story appeared!
The current release date is sometime in October, and the acquiring editor decided that Assassin was an appropriate title in honor of my delightfully sarcastic Xyran assassin Zhan. If you’ve been following my Mid Week Teases for this story, you’ll soon be able to read the whole thing. Here’s the blurb I just submitted with my cover art sheet — can’t wait to see what Sour Cherry Designs comes up with for this one.
A routine wilderness patrol goes horribly wrong when Sergeant Deacon Shea and his patrol partner are ambushed by scavengers. After a firefight leaves his partner dead and their vehicle destroyed, Deacon is forced to hike out of the mountains alone. Stumbling across a grounded Alphan shuttle, he thinks he’s found a ride home with the Alphan warrior Taric and his Xyran associate Zhan. The handsome aliens, however, have other plans for Deacon — to make him their mate.
Forced to hide their bond from their respective governments, Taric and Zhan never expected to find their third bondmate on Earth, and definitely not in the middle of an unauthorized mission to stop a vicious Xyran slavemaster. Neither of them can resist the urge to claim Deacon, but will their new mate help them catch their old foe, or turn them over to Earth — and Alphan — justice?
Mid Week Tease: Planet Alpha Story #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! This is my final MWT from my Planet Alpha story — it’s getting submitted tomorrow, so cross your fingers!
While on patrol, UN Security Forces Sergeant Deacon Shea is ambushed by scavengers and forced to hike back to civilization in the middle of a severe thunderstorm. When he runs across an Alphan ship grounded in a clearing, he thinks he’s saved. Little does he know that his life is about to become very, very complicated…
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
“Slavers?” Deacon’s hands tightened at his sides. If he knew how to turn on the shuttle’s weapons array, the men at the edge of the clearing would be twitching, smoking piles of meat. “Son of a bitch. Those girls can’t be more than twelve or thirteen.”
“Yes, quite ideal,” Zhan said.
He whirled, glaring at the Xyran. “What the fuck is wrong with you? They’re kids!”
“They’re nubile and perfect for training,” Zhan replied absently. “I’m simply looking at them as a slaver would.”
A finger of cold trailed down Deacon’s spine. Oh, fuck, no. Please no. He was suddenly aware he was not only naked and unarmed, but significantly smaller than either of the aliens. If they wanted to take the girls off planet, it would be almost impossible for him to stop them. But goddamn it, I’m gonna try.
Grimacing, he planted himself in the cockpit doorway, gripping the frame. “If you want those girls, you’re gonna have to go through me,” he grated.
Taric turned and stared at him. “Deacon, what are you doing?”
“They are citizens of Earth, and if you think I’m letting either of you take them off-planet and sell them—”
“What?” The Alphan half-rose from his chair, eyes blazing with anger. “I would never take a female as a slave. They are the bringers of life, and are to be cherished and protected. How can you think I would do something so evil?”
“What the hell am I supposed to think?” Deacon fired back. “You two just happen to be stuck out here in the ass end of nowhere, where you just happen to meet up with a bunch of scav slavers who have girls for sale. You seriously expect me to believe this is some kind of accident?”
“Oh, no. It’s quite deliberate,” Zhan said, still sounding annoyingly calm. “We sent out a message saying that we were looking for nubile girls for purchase. As you can see, our message was received.”
“Message—”
Deacon was suddenly yanked forward, spun and trapped against Zhan’s chest, his wrists abruptly numb in Zhan’s inhumanly strong grip.
“Listen to me, little human warrior,” the Xyran said calmly. “Neither Taric nor I have any intention of doing anything untoward with those young females. What we do want, however, is to locate the ferals’ employer, whom I suspect to be a Xyran slave master named Dravn. We suspect he’s been working with the ferals to steal humans from local settlements and sell them back on Xyran. Now, if you’re quite finished with your protective display, I’d like to get on with our plan of putting a stop to Dravn’s little enterprise here.”
Deacon struggled for a moment longer until Zhan’s words sank in. “You’re not stealing them?”
“Of course not,” Taric said, still upset. “Beloved, how could you think that of us?”
“It does make sense, my heart,” Zhan said, letting him go. “And it’s quite possible to love someone even if you know them to be a scoundrel. As you can attest to.”
Deacon turned, rubbing his wrists and wincing at the disappointment pouring off Taric. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“You’re forgiven.” Zhan leaned against the bulkhead. “Now, I need to get out there.”
Taric stood from his chair, sighing. “I’ll go get the slave collar.”
Deacon felt his jaw drop. “Slave collar?”
“Yes. Any good slavemaster will be accompanied by a body slave. Taric will be fulfilling that role for me.” The Xyran’s eyes flickered, studying him. “Although I must admit I’ve just had a much better idea…”
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Mid Week Tease: Planet Alpha Story #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Here’s my second tease from my almost finished Planet Alpha story. After overhearing his hunky alien rescuers discuss his candidacy as bondmate (and follow it up with some rather hot sex), Deacon relieves a little of his own tension. Of course, if he can hear them, it only makes sense that they can hear him as well. Oops.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
While on patrol, UN Security Forces Sergeant Deacon Shea is ambushed by scavengers and forced to hike back to civilization in the middle of a severe thunderstorm. When he runs across an Alphan ship grounded in a clearing, he thinks he’s saved. Little does he know that his life is about to become very, very complicated…
Deacon struggled to sit up. To his increasing humiliation, Taric leaned against the corridor hallway, thick arms crossed over his chest and grinning. “Don’t worry about hitting him,” the Alphan said. “He’s tougher than he looks.”
“Is that how you usually treat someone who gives you release?” Zhan said, sitting back on his heels and rubbing his cheek.
Deacon finally found his voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Pleasuring you, I thought,” Zhan said coldly, skin shading to red. “When you cried out our names, I assumed you enjoyed it. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Damn straight you were wrong.” He yanked a protective flap of blanket over his groin. “Anyone ever tell you to ask first before licking a guy’s cock?”
Zhan looked puzzled. “No.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m a Xyran. We take what we want.”
Deacon scowled. “Well, not me. I don’t care if you think I’m your bondmate or whatever — you ask first, understand?”
Taric came over, frowning. “How did you know we were considering you as a bondmate?”
Ah, shit. “I heard you talking about it,” he admitted. “In the cockpit.”
Taric’s eyes went wide. “You speak Alphan?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not totally fluent, but I can usually understand what people are saying.”
To his surprise, Taric sat down on a corner of the pad, studying him. “If you can speak our language, why are you patrolling areas such as this?” the Alphan asked. “You should be posted to one of our compounds or assigned to an ambassador’s security team.”
Deacon flushed. “That’s what I wanted to do, believe me.” He had busted his ass for years, taking every xenorelations class he could, only to get passed over time and time again for promotion because of his lack of pull. “But you need clout to get those assignments.”
“Clout?”
“Influence,” Zhan supplied. “In the form of money, family connections, or a highly placed patron.” He smiled thinly at Deacon. “We’ve very familiar with this form of bartering on Xyran.”
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Deacon muttered. “Since I don’t have any of those, I never got picked for an Alphan security slot.”
Taric’s expression darkened. “I must speak with our local command about this,” he rumbled. “The human military attached to our embassies are supposed to be warriors of honor and valor, not sycophants who obtained their positions through chicanery.”
Deacon snorted. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. Earth is turning into a shithole, if you haven’t noticed. Anyone with clout is going to do backflips to get in good with the Alphans, especially if it gives them a chance of getting off-planet.”
Taric glanced at Zhan. “I take it your government is aware of this?”
“Of course.” The Xyran flicked elegant fingers. “I can think of at least four slave traders who have deals with various Earth officials to look the other way when they come here for a raid. The officials are promised wealth, and then later a home on Xyran and a slave harem of their own. You’d be surprised how many humans are more than happy to sell their own people to us for that kind of opportunity.”
Taric glowered at that. “And you wonder why our people cannot get along.”
“It’s how my culture functions, my heart. There’s precious little I can do about it, even with my rank.”
Deacon’s curiosity piqued. “Your rank?”
Zhan gave him a short, ironic bow. “My full title is Lord Zhan, Sixth of the Tribe of Desh, may my sire’s glory live forever.” He made a face. “At least until one of my older brothers decides to poison the old bastard.”
Desh was one of the major tribal leaders on Xyran, Deacon remembered. In Earth terms, Zhan was a minor prince. And he was going down on me? “How many older brothers do you have?”
“Five, hence my designation as Sixth, and all of them are as bloodthirsty as my sire. After spending most of my childhood surviving assassination attempts, I gave up my place in the line of inheritance and took apprenticeship with the Urrana. I believe humans call it, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them.’”
More memories from Deacon’s xenorelations classes surfaced. The Urrana were a clan of legendary Xyran assassins, ruthless and absolutely deadly. “Why are you telling me all this?” he asked.
Zhan smiled. “Because Taric seems to think that you are our bondmate. If that is true, then you have nothing to fear from me. And if it isn’t, I can always kill you later.”
“Zhan,” Taric said reprovingly.
The Xyran shrugged. “I’m simply suggesting it’s in his best interests to be our bondmate.”
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So, just had my 48th birthday
And it was lovely — Ramón gave me a lingerie shopping spree as my present (woohoo!), and I got tons of birthday wishes all over social media so I was quite the happy camper. Would have been even happier if I’d been at SDCC or RWA14, but I’m going to London this year for Worldcon so I can’t really complain. Plus there’s always next year, right? (Although when a friend of mine at SDCC got an impromptu picture with both Jared Padalecki and a somewhat tiddly Misha Collins, I may have turned a slight shade of chartreuse.)
In writing news, I’m plowing ahead on my Planet Alpha submission and I’ll have a second teaser up tomorrow for MidWeek Tease. Hope nobody minds a big action scene at the end — well, hey, if you kidnap an Alphan warrior’s human bondmate, you have to expect him and his Xyran mate to open a can of alien whoopass on you, right? Fingers crossed that Evernight feels the same way. Once that’s off, I’ll get to work editing Breaker Zone with an eye on submitting it by August 13. After THAT, I go back to work on Behind the Iron Cross so that I can get it making the agent rounds in September. Plus people have been asking for Trickster and Two to Tango sequels.
Arrgh. Why do I have to sleep?
Mid Week Tease: Planet Alpha Story #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! Yes, I’m finally taking a crack at Evernight’s Planet Alpha series, so here’s a scene from the WIP (unedited, so be warned).
While on patrol, UN Security Forces Sergeant Deacon Shea is ambushed by scavengers and forced to hike back to civilization in the middle of a severe thunderstorm. When he runs across an Alphan ship grounded in a clearing, he thinks he’s saved. Little does he know that his life is about to become very, very complicated…
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
###
Deacon lurched back as the airlock hatch irised open. Inside was a huge, golden Alphan warrior in a sleek uniform. The alien towered over him by a good six inches, and a pair of pointed black horns on his forehead added another inch of height. Dark blue eyes twinkled at him, although the alien’s expression was solemn.
His gaze drifted downward to the thickly muscled body straining at the seams of its uniform. While he was in good shape, he suspected that the gold-skinned male in front of him could crush him like a bug.
Or throw you down and fuck you silly drifted through his head.
“What do you want, human?” the Alphan said, not unkindly.
He came to attention. “Sir, I’m Sergeant Deacon Shea, United Nations Security Forces,” he said, saluting. “My patrol partner and I were attacked by scavengers. They killed him, and my floater was destroyed. I need to contact my base and let them know what happened.” He grimaced. “And, um, a ride would be good, too.”
The Alphan glanced out at the woods then nodded, stepping back and gesturing him into the ship. Deacon stumbled into the airlock, smothering a moan as the warm air hit his cold, wet skin. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, human warrior,” the Alphan said. “I think—“
“Well, well,” another voice purred. “As the humans would say, look what the cat dragged in.”
Deacon turned, staring at the speaker. Unlike the Alphan, this alien had no black horns or golden skin. His eyes were pure, glittering black, and his long curling hair was the same color. If his changing skin color didn’t identify him, the gems embedded into his chest and the sheathed knives strapped to his thighs would have made his species quite clear.
Xyran. Deacon glanced at the Alphan, who looked at ease. “Sir, thank you for your assistance,” he said, trying to layer his tone with do you need help without making it too obvious. “If there’s anything I can do—”
The Xyran laughed. “I do believe this ridiculous human thinks I’ve kidnapped you, Taric.”
The Alphan — Taric — winced slightly. “Sergeant Shea, I am Captain Taric of Vordan Command, Alphan Expeditionary Force,” he said, giving Deacon a formal nod. “And this is Zhan. As you can see, he’s a Xyran. He collects useful information for me.”
The Xyran pursed his lips. “Yes, I’m useful in so many ways.”
Taric gave him an odd look, then turned back to Deacon. “I’m afraid communications are very patchy due to this storm, sergeant, but as soon as it dissipates I’ll take you back to your base.”
“Oh. Uh, thank you, sir.” Deacon shivered, acutely aware he was dripping water onto the polished deck. “Um, do you by any chance happen to have some towels on board? Or a blanket?”
“I believe we can find something appropriate.” With another one of those odd looks to the Xyran, Taric gestured for him to follow and headed down a narrow corridor towards the back of the craft. The corridor opened up into what Deacon assumed was a passenger area. Instead of seats, however, there were large pads in one corner piled high with cushions and blankets. “I’m afraid I don’t have any spare uniforms, and to be honest I doubt they’d fit you anyway.” The Alphan studied Deacon’s body frankly. “Do you have body taboos?”
“Excuse me?”
“Body taboos, issues with nudity.”
Five years in the military had gotten rid of any modesty he’d ever possessed. But he got the sneaking feeling that the big, handsome alien wasn’t just sizing him up for a uniform. He remembered his xenorelations class, and how two Alphan males would become bondmates in order to take a female mate. Did bondmates fuck? Some of them had to, right?
With a start, he remembered Taric was waiting for his reply. “Body taboos. Uh, no, sir.” Feeling brave, he added, “But I’d feel a little stupid if I was the only one naked here.”
Taric smiled. “You have a point. Strip off that uniform.” He gestured at a small door in the corridor. “The cleansing unit is in there. Hang your clothes in the stall and the water reclaimer should have them dry before long.”
Deacon ducked into the small room, eying the oddly shaped but still recognizable toilet. Thank God for compatible anatomy. He stripped out of the wet uniform and hung it on the grab bars lining the tiny shower stall, tossing his t-shirt and briefs over the metal screen that separated the stall from the rest of the room.
The warm air felt good on his damp skin and he looked around for the alien equivalent of a towel. Nothing. Frowning, he opened the door and stuck his head out. “Sir—“
The rest of the question stuttered to a halt as he stared at a completely nude Alphan warrior.
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Mid Week Tease: Two to Tango #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! With Breaker Zone currently cooling before the editing process, I thought I’d post a teaser from my M/M SF romp Two to Tango, currently available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Let’s just say the scene speaks for itself, shall we?
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Rory Maclellan, aka the Highlander, is one of the most successful interstellar art thieves out there. He’s careful, professional, and plans his heists down to the microsecond. Surprisingly, he also has a conscience. So when he runs into a suicidal museum worker during his latest job, he has no choice but to stun the man and rescue him from certain death.
Dmitri Grigoryev was an up-and-coming exoarchaeologist until a disastrous dig left his career in tatters. Hungry, broke, and about to be laid off from the only job he’s been able to find in the last three years, he never expected a dashing thief to come along and save his life.
With interstellar police on their tail, Rory and Dmitri reluctantly join forces for a major heist. But will their simmering attraction get in the way, or prove that they were meant to be together?
###
Minutes later they were upstairs in the family wing, bedroom door closed and locked behind them. Rory was busily stripping Dmitri out of his coat and waistcoat while Dmitri had his fingers carded in Rory’s hair, trying to hold him still as they kissed frenetically.
“Did I mention how fucking sexy you are when you dance?” Rory muttered against his mouth. “I swear to God, I thought I was going to get hard right then and there. Which, by the way, is pretty damned embarrassing in a kilt.”
“It was your idea to tango,” Dmitri said, licking his lower lip before taking it in his teeth and tugging gently. “And you weren’t the only one getting hard.”
“Good.” Rory’s hand snaked down between them, cupping his groin and squeezing gently. Dmitri closed his eyes at the flash of harsh-edged pleasure, thrusting into Rory’s grip. “Because I want you hard, doc. Naked and hard and on your back under me, legs over my shoulders, begging me to fuck you.”
The command sent a zing of pure need through Dmitri. “I thought you liked to bottom.”
“Normally I do. But I’m feeling a little domineering right now, and I really want to fuck you.” Rory eased up, looking absurdly hopeful. “Is that okay?”
“Bozhe moi, yes.”
They tumbled onto the bed together, struggling out of their clothes in between kisses. Dmitri ran a hand up Rory’s thigh and underneath his kilt, cupping his balls and rolling them gently. Rory tipped his head back, making a low, hungry noise.
“Like that?” Dmitri said, amused.
“You know I do.”
“How about this?” He shifted his grip, sliding it up Rory’s thickening shaft until he could run his thumb around the head. There was already a thin slick there, and he wanted to lick it off his thumb. “Yes, you definitely like that,” he crooned.
“Fucking tease,” Rory groaned back. “Let’s see how you like it.”
Dmitri abruptly found himself flipped onto his back with a half-naked and very aroused Scot on top of him. Grinning, Rory tore open his shirt and nipped his way across Dmitri’s pecs, feasting on the tiny, hard nipples. The hot, wet sensation of Rory’s mouth sent darts of pleasure through him, and he moaned in agreement as Rory drifted down, following the trail of dark hair to his waistband.
“Okay, these have got to go,” Rory growled, ripping at his breeches. The tight fabric resisted, and Dmitri finally had to arch upwards, lifting his ass off the bedspread, in order to let Rory pull them off. “No more breeches, dammit.”
“They were your idea, remember?” Dmitri protested, then gasped as Rory’s mouth descended on his naked cock. Heat, wetness, and a velvet tongue slicking across that sensitive spot just under the head made him arch again. “Oh, God. Yes.”
Rory started sucking him in earnest, head bobbing greedily between his thighs to the accompaniment of some truly obscene slurping and suckling sounds. A wet finger slid under his balls, then farther back until it pressed against his rim.
Eyes closed, Dmitri pushed outward and was rewarded with a brief, sweet burn as he was penetrated.
The finger rotated, easing deeper in time with Rory’s deep throating, until it touched something that set off white stars in Dmitri’s vision. He gasped and cursed in Russian, grinding down on the teasing digit.
Rory pulled off, licking his lips. “I found your prostate,” he sang.
“I noticed, dammit,” Dmitri grunted. “More, now.”
“God, I love it when you’re bossy.”
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Just in case you thought a writer’s life was a never-ending cycle of literary glamor
So I’m drenched in sweat from having to clean up a puddle of cat pee on the bay window ledge in the kitchen (which requires me to climb up ON THE COUNTER to reach it as it’s a deep window that is directly behind the sink. At this point I am still in my jammies, haven’t taken my meds or eaten breakfast yet, just so you get the full picture). Once I’m up there, I have to wipe everything down with enzyme cleaner and then water, climb back down, add more dirt to the large pot that Jemma mistakenly used as a litterbox (decorative stones will be added to the top so that none of them can dig in it) and two other pots because what the hell, might as well fill all of them while I have the potting soil out, clean all the excess dirt from the original digging and my own work off the sink and counters, sweep the floor, clean the litterboxes, spritz the food bowls and water bowls, and mediate Jemma and Jessie growling and chasing each other all over the kitchen and living room With Intent.
If that wasn’t enough, I then hear a knock at the door. While I’m still in my jammies. Whee. I open it a crack to see the landscaping guy whom I’d called on Tuesday, apologizing for not calling first but he was in the neighborhood so… One quick-change into yoga pants and a t-shirt later, I’m giving him a tour of Casa Cameron and showing him all the stuff that needs to be done. He promises to call me next week with an estimate, and I see him off.
I then realize it’s 12:40 PM and I have to get off to my Monday writing meet-up with two friends. Still haven’t had my meds or breakfast yet, note. I pop the meds and head off to the meetup, resigning myself to a carb-laden meal because I have to eat SOMETHING and soon or things will get ugly.
Got 1500 words done on Breaker Zone but I have a battle/rescue scene to plot out and have to come back home for that so I can blast the Pacific Rim soundtrack over the headphones while I write. Jessie is sleeping upstairs and Jemma is somewhere around here, I don’t know where. And as long as it stays quiet, I don’t care.
Is the day over with, yet?
Mid Week Tease: Breaker Zone #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Happy Hump Day! It’s time for another dramatic scene from my current WIP Breaker Zone. In this teaser, Nick has been kidnapped by the insane Nereid Thetis and is trying to treat a poisoned demigoddess with the help of Asclepius’s Rod and its resident snake/assistant Pythia. Unfortunately, things are not going well…
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
With his life in ruins thanks to a psychotic ex, Dr. Nick Gardiner winds up at Olympic Cove looking for sanctuary (and free beer) with his friend Ian. The last thing he expects to find is Ian living with two redheaded sea lords and learning how to be a storm god. Adding to the confusion is a wounded merman named Aidan who washes up in the cove, requiring Nick’s professional help. Nick soon learns that the handsome mer and his partner Liam have their own plans for the ER doctor — to claim him as their agapetos, their destined mate, and fulfill his need to submit.
A chance encounter at a local junk shop reveals that Nick has his own role to play in Ian’s battle against the insane Nereid Thetis. Under the reluctant mentorship of Chiron, Nick must master the use of the Rod of Asclepius if he wants to rescue his mates from a ghastly fate and help Ian save the planet.
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The goddess gazed sadly at him through the bars. “You can’t stop it, can you?” she asked softly.
“I—” He closed his mouth before he had to lie. “This is something I’ve never dealt with before. I don’t think I can stop it.”
Claire’s head dropped forward, and she took a shuddering breath. “So be it. Then kill me.”
Nick recoiled. “What?”
“Kill me.” Her head came back up and her eyes were huge in the dim cabin. “Don’t let Thetis turn me into one of her creatures. Be merciful and put me beyond her reach.”
You can’t do that, Nicholas.
God damn it, Pythia, I wasn’t planning on it, he shouted in his head.
No, that’s not what I meant. Claire is a goddess — a minor one, true, but fully divine. And as such, immortal. Even if you ran her through, she would heal. Cut off her head, and the pieces would rejoin. You cannot kill a goddess.
He shook his head, horrified at the snake’s words.
“Why not?” Claire’s expression changed at his gesture, becoming a mix of pleading and anger. “I’m asking you to do this. To leave me to Thetis’s mercy would be far more cruel than killing me.”
“No, you don’t understand. I can’t kill you. You’re immortal.”
Her grip on the bar tightened. “There must be something you can do,” she said. “For Gaia’s sake, human, don’t leave me like this!”
Nicholas.
What?
There is nothing you can do. But there is something she can do. Sadness permeated Pythia’s words. It will be difficult, but it will free her from her form.
Death was something every doctor fought as long as possible. But Nick had seen too many patients turned into vegetables, dependent on life support, to believe that extreme measures always had to be employed. And in this case, Claire really was looking at a fate worse than death. What is it?
She can make the choice only one other god has ever made, and voluntarily give up her immortality.
What? Which god did that?
Pythia’s tongue flickered once. Your tutor, Chiron.
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Nicola Cameron Writes 