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Mid Week Tease: Two to Tango #MWTease #MidWeekTease
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 SF erotic caper story titled Two to Tango. I’m also doing something a little different this week, in that this isn’t an explicitly erotic tease — you actually get to see Rory in action, and how he met Dmitri.
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. 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, because he’ll be damned if he gets blamed for the man’s murder.
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 ruin his suicide by saving 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 pull them even closer?
###
Rory MacLellan loved this part of a heist.
Grinning, he slipped down the darkened access hallway towards the target. The worn industrial carpet deadened the sound of his footsteps, not that there was anyone around to hear them tonight.
Not unless they really wanted to die.
He checked his heads up display, noting the time. Less than twenty minutes before airtight bulkhead doors would slam down throughout the Novy Vladivostok Museum of Art and History. The atmosphere would then be sucked out of the entire building, replaced with a sterilizing gas designed to kill vermin and artifact-destroying bacteria. The fact that the gas would also kill any humans still in the building guaranteed that the museum would be empty.
As far as he was concerned, the museum higher-ups couldn’t have picked a better time to do their yearly sterilization sweep. Their new exhibit Other Worlds, Other Gods was scheduled to go on display tomorrow, and its star attraction, a fist-sized chunk of pure opal known as the Eye of the Mother, was tonight’s prize.
He’d already done the tricky part; bribing underpaid planetary border agents for access, parking his cloaked skimship on the roof of the museum, and using a worm app to open a hole in museum security. The actual break-in activities were much simpler. A mimetic bodysuit and helmet took on the pattern of whatever was behind him and diverted body heat to sinks in the boot soles, rendering him effectively invisible to both standard and infrared cameras. His faceplate, doubling as a heads up display, turned the shadowy hallway into a brightly lit corridor. All the tools he’d need for safecracking and related activities were securely stored in a mimetic bag on his hip.
Now he just had to get to the museum’s workroom, pick its electronic lock, break into the safe there, retrieve the Eye of the Mother, and get out before sterilization commenced. Easy.
Still grinning, he reached the workroom door and pulled out a small black cylinder with a rubbery grey end from his bag. Pushing the rubbery bit against the lock, he waited until the smartgel sussed out the electronic code. A loud click sounded and he eased open the door, sliding through the gap into the workroom. A sudden flash of light made him wince. His faceplate cut in, compensating for the unexpected glow from a workstation lamp.
Rory tsked. Wasting energy was just sloppy. “Molly, room schematic,” he sub-vocalized.
“Coming up, sir.” The HUD now showed a graphic overlay of the workroom, and a glowing red outline in the far left corner indicated the safe. “May I remind you that you have eighteen minutes to complete your retrieval before sterilization commences.”
“Yup, I know.” The countdown in the lower left corner of the HUD was impossible to ignore.
“Your bodysuit will protect you from the gas, but all exits will automatically seal and I will not be able to re-open the roof hatch.”
“I know.”
“You’ll be a sitting duck when museum security returns in the morn—“
“Molly. Stop telling me what can go wrong.”
A beat of blessed silence. “Sorry, sir.”
Rory rolled his eyes. His ship AI was the finest in the business and the closest thing he had to a best friend, but sometimes she really chapped his nads. “Moving to the safe now.”
#
Dr. Dmitri Grigoryev sat at his workstation, ignoring his headache and the painful growl in his midsection. He’d hoped that some of his coworkers had left some food in the employee lounge. Even a sealie of chips or a stale sandwich would have been nice. But they’d cleared everything out in advance of the sterilization.
So he would die hungry. At least it’ll only be for a little while longer. After that, it’s up to God. Assuming that whatever deity there was, if there was one, took pity on someone like him.
He went over the workstation again, tidying the tools, putting everything in its place. There wasn’t much to do, really, but he was a stickler about keeping his personal spaces neat. He’d already cleaned out his locker, and his suicide note was logged in the system to be delivered to the museum director at six AM, long after the sterilizing gas had done its job.
There would be an investigation into how he’d gotten into the building, of course. Security had already done their pre-sterilization sweep, and the place was supposed to be locked down tight to guard against any accidental deaths. Fortunately for him, one of the friendlier security guards had showed him how to get around the entry codes a few months after he’d started. “Tired of having to come rescue you folks when you lock yourselves out,” he’d said, giving Dmitri the bypass instructions.
Of course, he’d wanted a little something in return. And ignoring the roiling self-disgust in his belly, Dmitri had gone along with it. Compared to three years ago, a quick fuck in the loading dock was nothing. At least the guard had fed him, too. He sometimes thought it was a shame the guard had gotten married soon afterwards and left the museum. If nothing else, he could have used the free food.
Absently, he wondered if anyone else should be notified about his death. His family … no. And he had no real friends. He toyed with the idea of sending a copy of his note to Joss and Helene, but finally decided against it. If they still remembered him after three years, they’d probably feel relieved that he was dead. And the last thing he wanted them to feel was relief.
Something wet trickled down his face. It took him a moment to realize he was crying. He felt numb inside, so why would he be crying? It didn’t make sense. He swiped a sleeve across his eyes, the cheap fabric of his coveralls smearing the water more than absorbing it. His stomach rumbled again painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since the day before. What was it? A biscuit? It didn’t matter. A few more minutes, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.
He took a deep breath, trying to imagine what it would feel like when the searing gas entered his lungs. Would it feel like drowning, or breathing fire? And how long would it take for him to die? He was so wrapped up in his oncoming death, he almost ignored the soft noise behind him.
Then he heard a second sound, a metallic ka-clink.
Turning in his chair, he stared at the cheap room dividers that separated the workstations from the larger cleaning zones and the workroom vault, a sizable walk-in space located in the far corner. Normally the vault was used to store rare items that were undergoing restoration or pieces that were being prepared for display.
Wasn’t something going on display tomorrow? The Eye of something? He’d caught a glimpse of it over the shoulder of his manager that very morning, a fist-sized chunk of carved black opal from some planet on the outer Rim.
Frowning, he stood and went over to the room dividers, peering around the edge. The cleaning zones were fairly dim, and his night vision was nonexistent thanks to the lamp on his workstation. But he could still see the vault door. It was closed.
Idiot. He’d been imagining things, illusions most likely brought on by hunger and lightheadedness. He turned to go back to his workstation.
Then turned back. There, against the far wall, something moved. A vague outline, almost like a heat haze on a hot day.
A man-shaped outline.
A burst of anger-fueled adrenaline surged through him. He remembered the security lectures from his first days there, how modern art thieves used mimetic technology to break into buildings and remove artifacts. Of course a thief would pick the time right before sterilization to steal something.
You greedy bastard. You couldn’t just let me die in peace, could you? A giddy sense of outrage joined the adrenaline, and he clenched his fists. Fine.
If he was going to die in that miserable place, at least he could take a thieving honor guard with him.
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Mid Week Tease: Two to Tango #MidWeekTease
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 SF erotic caper story titled Two to Tango.
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 ruin his suicide by saving 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 pull them even closer?
###
Dmitri felt Rory’s tongue dipping into his slit, tasting him there. Lips and a hand worked together, carefully urging his foreskin back, and Rory took the newly bared head into his mouth. Dmitri grabbed the sheets to stop himself from bucking up into that wet, perfect heat.
Rory’s mouth came off him with a luscious pop. “Jesus, you taste good. Why do you taste so good?”
Before Dmitri could answer, Rory sucked him inside again, running his tongue around and around the sensitive edge. He couldn’t stop a low, needy moan, and Rory chuckled, the vibrations traveling down the shaft and resonating in his balls. “God, don’t stop,” he begged.
“Wasn’t planning on it, angel.” Still chuckling, Rory alternated between toe-curling deep throating and intense, short strokes while he played with Dmitri’s balls, rolling them in his broad palm and teasing the softly wrinkled skin with the tips of his fingers. The combination of sensations set Dmitri’s nerve endings on fire, and he was on the verge of coming explosively when Rory suddenly pulled off.
Dmitri couldn’t help groaning at his balked orgasm. “No!”
“Gotta stop. It’s too soon.” Rory clambered up, moving until he’d caged Dmitri in his arms and legs. “I want to come with you. Let me do that, baby.”
Dmitri nodded and tried to regain control of his breathing as Rory leaned over, fishing in the toiletries kit next to the bed. Triumphantly pulling out two bottles, he held them up for Dmitri’s perusal. “Looky here.”
One was lube — Dmitri recognized the brand from their massage session — but the other was unfamiliar. “What’s that?”
“Latest in barrier technology. You’re gonna love this.”
Rory flipped open the bottle cap and turned it upside down. A soft purple blob with a shimmering swirl running through it extruded from the tip. “Now, it’s a little warm when it goes on at first,” he said, reaching for Dmitri’s cock, “but some guys like that—“
“Wait.” Dmitri struggled to sit up, peering at the bottle. “You — I mean, you want me—“
“To top, yeah.” Rory hesitated. “Oh, crap. Do you only bottom?”
Dmitri couldn’t help laughing at the expression of dismay on the other man’s face. “No, either’s fine with me. I just assumed you’d top.”
“Yeah, well, I know it kinda clashes with the dashing art thief persona, but sometimes I like being fucked into oblivion by a nice, thick cock, thank you very much.” Carefully, Rory applied the blob to the head of Dmitri’s penis. The purple and silver mass dissolved, streaming down and coating the shaft in a warm, even layer before stopping just short of his balls. “Now, that’s not to say that I’m passive about it at all—“
“God forbid,” Dmitri murmured.
Rory shot a mock glare at him. “Do you want to fuck me or not?”
“Yes, please.”
“Good. How does that feel?”
Dmitri considered the thin nanosheath. It didn’t have the normal tightness of a regular condom, but still seemed secure. “It tingles a little. Feels nice.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Quickly shucking out of his clothes, Rory grabbed the first bottle and squirted a healthy dollop of lube onto his fingers, then slipped them between his ass cheeks and worked on opening himself up. “You can do this next time, I promise,” he said, slightly breathless. “But I really want you to fuck me, and I don’t want to waste too much time faffing around.”
“I don’t faff around, whatever that means—“
“You’d go slow, and be very nice and gentle, which will be great when we’re back on board and don’t have to worry about someone banging on the bedroom door.” With his other hand, Rory pushed Dmitri flat on his back and slung a knee across his body, positioning himself over Dmitri’s groin. “But right now, I just want you to fuck me hard and fast. Think you can do that?”
Dmitri felt the tight muscle against the head of his cock and groaned. “Yeah, I think so.”
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Mid Week Tease: Storm Season
Happy Hump Day! Here’s another delicious Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from my debut novel Storm Season.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Ian West had his summer all planned out — go down to Florida, stay in his family’s beach cottage on Olympic Cove, and work on his science fiction novel. But his plans get thrown for a loop when gorgeous twin sea gods Bythos and Aphros show up in the cove and inform him he’s their fated consort. As if that wasn’t enough, something in the Gulf of Mexico is turning mermaids into legendary monsters and gods into demons. Now, Ian not only has to navigate the complicated waters of a ménage relationship with twin sea gods, he also has to stop an insane deity and save the whole damn planet. No pressure.
###
He grabbed the shampoo he’d bought the day before and squirted a dollop into his hair, closing his eyes as he worked it through. Memories of that first night, and his fantasy of having Bythos and Aphros in the shower with him, crossed his mind. His cock stirred at the thought.
Before he could grab the conditioner and work himself up to a halfhearted jackoff session, a baritone voice said, “You are damnably difficult to resist, beloved.”
Ian gasped in shock, sucking in droplets of shampoo foam. Frantically coughing and spitting, he stuck his face directly in the spray and scrubbed the soap away from his eyes.
And opened them on the beautiful sight of Bythos and Aphros standing in front of the enclosure, naked and waiting for him. He wiped wet hair back from his face, fighting the urge to jump out and into their arms. “You came back,” he said stupidly.
Bythos gave him a wry smile. “Yes, well, I hate to hear a grown man grovel.”
Aphros elbowed him, and the grey-eyed demigod winced. “And brother dearest here rightly pointed out that we should have explained everything more fully to you last night, before we took you to bed.”
Aphros nodded. “Love, we’re not trying to push you into anything, we swear,” he said, his face open and beseeching. “You’re absolutely right—we don’t really know you any more than you know us. And finding out about the agapetos marks was understandably a shock. It’s just the way these things work for our kind. And we’ve known about you a lot longer than you’ve known about us, so we might have gotten a little ahead of ourselves.”
“Might have?” Bythos murmured.
Aphros glared at his brother, then turned back to Ian. “But we want to get to know you, if you’ll let us. Please, love, let us.”
Ian stood there for a fraction of a second, before pulling back the glass door of the enclosure. “Get in here.”
The demigods didn’t hesitate. Suddenly he was surrounded by slick male flesh, hands touching and caressing him everywhere. Ian moaned in delight under the onslaught, and again when Bythos dropped to his knees and swallowed his half-hard cock in one gulp. The sudden shock of wet heat and a mobile velvet tongue made his knees wobble, and Aphros had to grab him around the waist and hold him securely while Bythos let his cock slide free, ducking lower and laving each ball before mouthing them.
Aphros slid long fingers under Ian’s chin, tilting his head around until their lips met. Ian lost himself in the demigod’s kiss, flickering tongue moving slick and hot against his.
Bythos turned his attention back to Ian’s cock, working what felt like magic on it. Ian came with a shout swallowed by Aphros. Bythos also swallowed, then pulled off and licked him clean. He got to his feet with a satisfied smile. “You’re delicious, beloved.”
With a groan, Ian dragged the grey-eyed demigod into his arms, kissing him and tasting his own pleasure mixed with Bythos’s unique flavor, a bittersweet combination that was irresistible. “Don’t you ever leave me again like that, you hear me?”
“We won’t, we promise,” Bythos said quietly, cupping his face. “We love you.”
Ian stopped resisting the pull he’d felt from the first moment he’d seen them in the ocean. “I love you, both of you,” he said hoarsely, feeling it resonate in his soul. “I don’t know why, but I do.”
Aphros pressed close behind, his rigid cock rubbing along the groove of Ian’s ass. “Because you belong to us,” he said. “And we belong to you, love.”
Ian let himself be pushed harder against Bythos’s chest. Aphros’s fingers slid along the cheeks of his ass, caressing the muscled curves before sliding deeper into the crease between them. He teased the tight opening for a moment, a fingertip circling the puckered muscle, before gently pressing in.
Ian panted at the sweet—and undeniably slick—penetration. “Where the hell did you get lube?” he said.
Aphros chuckled in his ear. “I conjured it down from the bedroom. Demigod, remember?” His finger slid deeper and curved in, rubbing that one delicious spot, and Ian moaned happily.
Bythos leaned down and claimed his mouth again, kissing him with a hungry ferocity. “I love you,” he muttered in between hot, wet kisses. “Oh, Gaia, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” Ian hung onto the demigod’s shoulders as one finger turned to two, huffing under his breath at the pain-pleasure of the stretching. Then three, until finally he felt them pull out and the thick head of Aphros’s cock pushing into him. The thick shaft filled him slowly, inch by inch, until Aphros abruptly stopped.
“No, that’s no good,” he said. “Angle’s wrong. By, some help?”
“How’s this?” Strong hands slid around Ian’s thighs, spreading them open. Suddenly he was lifted up and held against Bythos, his own hardening cock rubbing against the grey-eyed demigod’s rigid shaft. He wrapped his arms around Bythos’s neck and clung closer.
“Oh, yes, that’s much better,” Aphros said, moving faster now. Ian savored the depth the demigod achieved with each thrust, pushing him more firmly against Bythos. The rhythmic pressure kept their cocks rubbing deliciously past each other in the hot, tight space between their bodies.
The thrumming in Ian’s groin took on a rising note. “Oh, fuck yes. Harder, Aph, please.”
Aphros obeyed. His thrusts turned savage, shoving Ian hard against Bythos with each pistoning move. Lost in pleasure, Ian nuzzled Bythos’s shoulder, then bit down.
The demigod yelped, but his hips jerked as he came in a warm spurt between their bodies. That triggered Ian’s orgasm, and he threw his head back onto Aphros’s shoulder, coming hard and keening.
“Yes!” Aphros shouted. With another thrust, he exploded inside Ian.
For an endless moment the three of them leaned against one another under the now-cooling water, panting and trembling from the aftershocks. Finally, Ian got enough breath back to laugh softly.
“Well,” he said, brushing his lips across the love bite on Bythos’s shoulder, “at least this is going to make cleanup easy.”
Evernight • Amazon • Barnes & Noble • All Romance Ebooks • Bookstrand • Kobo • Smashwords
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Happy Valentine’s Day/Trickster Release Day/Giveaway!
Let’s start off with the first section of that title — happy Valentine’s Day! No matter how you’re spending the day, remember that you — yes, YOU right there, and wipe that smear of chocolate off your lip, sweetie — are my Valentine.
Section the second — it’s Trickster release day! (Which was actually yesterday, but I had to delay this post in order to take receipt of an item for section three) Yes, my new M/M shifter erotic romance Trickster is now loose in the wild and available from Evernight, Amazon, All Romance eBooks and Bookstrand, to name but a few purveyors of fine erotica. It already has a Bestseller Silver Star on All Romance eBooks and cracked the Top 100 Genre Bestsellers on Amazon less than 24 hours after release, so I am one happy writer!
And because I’m a happy writer, I want to give something back in return. From now until midnight on Sunday, I’m running a special Trickster release day giveaway. Belaurient Arts has been kind enough to create a custom bracelet for me, shown below; it combines polished river rock, natural mother of pearl, tiger’s eye and garnet beads into a tawny combination reminiscent of a coyote’s pelt. Finished with a solid bronze toggle clasp, it will go with anything from work outfits to a little black dress.
For a chance to win the bracelet, all you have to do is leave a comment in the Comments section below with your email address and I’ll choose the winner on Sunday. Good luck!
Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross
Happy Hump Day! Here’s another delicious Mid Week Tease, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from my seemingly neverending WIP Behind the Iron Cross. But damn, I enjoy working on this book!
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.
###
Kat stared up at the German, now perched between her splayed thighs. His sheathed cock, thick and throbbing, rested against her pubic mound, and her clit ached for contact with it. Behind him, Sam wore an intense expression as he did something to Friedrich’s lower body. From the sudden widening of Friedrich’s eyes, she could guess what Sam was doing with his fingers.
“Come on, then.” She stroked Friedrich’s cock, shifting herself slightly so that she could nudge him into position. “I want you inside me, colonel. Slowly.”
“Ja, Fräulein.” With exquisite slowness, he pressed into her. She took in a deep breath at the first delicious stretch, the thick heft of his shaft as it forced her body to accommodate it. Wet as she was, she wasn’t fully open, and he had to work for the last few inches. She watched, fascinated, at the play of emotions across his face; strain, concentration, followed by the most sublime look of amazement when he was finally seated inside her.
And then his eyes widened even more and he gasped, twitching inside her. Over his shoulder Sam loomed, his own look of pleasurable strain a close twin to Friedrich’s. “Relax, Friedrich,” he said hoarsely. “And breathe, dammit.”
Friedrich’s head dropped and he obeyed, pressing hard against her pubic bone as Sam pushed deeper. Her clit throbbed from the sudden attention, and she mewled happily. “Oh, I like that!”
“So do I. I wish you could feel it from this end, sweetheart,” Sam said, sounding breathless. “He’s so hot and tight. How are you doing, Friedrich?”
“Mmnn.” The German sucked in another breath, then nodded. “It’s good. More.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Sam said, still breathless. “Coming right up.”
At Sam’s careful thrust, Friedrich pressed harder against her, grinding oh so perfectly. She watched as pain flickered across his face, replaced by heavy-lidded pleasure. His sculpted mouth pursed into a soft oh, and he pushed back against Sam, then surged heavily into her.
Kat threw her head back, turning her cry of pleasure into a ragged gasp. She loved this, loved watching her colonel impale himself on Sam’s cock before pushing into her. He was trapped between them, a slave to both their pleasure and his own. She angled her hips to meet his next thrust, and moaned in surprise as his cock slid perfectly along her clit, setting off a firestorm in her lower belly.
Her eyes popped open. “Do that again!”
Friedrich obeyed, moaning as Sam’s thrust pushed him deeply into her. The same slide, and the same burst of ecstatic fire through her. That had never happened before, not with the pets she allowed to pleasure her, or even with Sam. “Keep doing that, just like that.”
Friedrich was breathing hard now, his large body trembling against hers from the strain of holding himself in position. Sam obviously felt it as well, because he said, “Friedrich, don’t work so hard. Let me do the driving. Just relax and enjoy Kat.”
“Ja.” It was a breathless grunt, but some of the tremors eased. Under Sam’s guidance, the three of them found a rhythm that drove Friedrich’s cock perfectly over her clit, pistoning deep inside her as Sam plunged inside the German. The bed began to creak, then squeak angrily under them.
“Good thing we have a suite,” Sam gasped. “Don’t — hah — want the neighbors calling — hah! — the cops on us.”
Even with her rising pleasure, Kat still managed to roll her eyes. “Just shut up and fuck him, Sam.”
She heard him chuckle, and then the pace stepped up, the bed now giving a cacophony of squeaks. Kat lifted up and took one of Friedrich’s hard nipples into her mouth, sucking it before biting down. His cock swelled inside her, and he buried his mouth in her hair and screamed as he exploded into the rubber.
“Oh, God, yes!” Sam gave another thrust, and another, them moaned loudly. The combined energy of their climaxes tipped Kat over the edge. She came hard around Friedrich, wrapping her arms and legs around him and Sam as she bucked against them, lost in the hot burst of pleasure.
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Guess what’s coming on 2/13?
(Aren’t you glad I refrained from the obvious joke about coming on 2/14?) I just got word from Evernight that Trickster will be released this Thursday, February 13, just in time for Valentine’s Day! Oh, I’m gonna have happy pants all week…
Mid Week Tease: Breaker Zone
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with the first Mid Week Tease of 2014, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from the second book in the Olympic Cove series, Breaker Zone.
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.
###
Nick woke up to slanting sunlight coming through the window blinds. Rubbing gummy eyes, he rolled over and checked the alarm clock. 8:12 AM.
After a moment, he realized the sunlight wasn’t what had woken him up. A rhythmic creaking noise came from overhead, combined with muffled words and the occasional moan.
Ian, you sex god, you. The creaking picked up a notch, and he distinctly heard the blond beg someone to go deeper. Fuck, he bottoms? Oh, God, that’s so hot.
Smiling sleepily, Nick slid his hand under his boxers and loosely stroked his cock, already half-hard. He felt a flicker of guilt about masturbating to the sound of his friend and two gorgeous redheads fucking their brains out overhead, but the twinge quickly disappeared as the creaking sped up.
He tried to imagine how they were positioned. He could hear Ian’s voice, so the blond wasn’t sucking off the other twin. Maybe he’s fucking one of them while the other one fucks him?
The image popped into his mind; the three of them on their sides, pumping in unison as Aphros fucked Ian from behind, and Ian drove into the other twin. Nick imagined all three bodies lightly sheened in sweat as they flexed and thrust, hard shafts driving deeply into muscled flesh. He stroked his own cock more roughly now, picturing Ian’s hand reaching around and jacking off the twin he was fucking while he rocked on Aphros’s cock, taking the blue-eyed twin deep and loving it.
The fantasy morphed; and now he was in the other twin’s place, Ian’s hand massaging his cock while he plowed Nick’s ass. The other twin moved lower on the bed, warm mouth closing around Nick’s shaft as Ian’s hand dropped away. Nick moaned, imagining a head of auburn curls bobbing greedily at his groin as Ian thrust into him with a jackhammer pace.
Pleasure sizzled down his spine and into his groin, and his climax came to a quick head. For a moment he regretted not pulling his boxers down, then gave in as his balls tightened and warm semen spurted over his hand. Overhead, it sounded as if things were also coming to a head, judging from the hoarse cries and one low, loud roar.
Panting softly, Nick pulled his hand out of his boxers and wiped the translucent stickiness covering his fingers on his t-shirt. The creaking noises stopped, and all he could hear now was muffled voices talking and soft laughter. His afterglow disappeared like a blown-out candle flame. His last few boyfriends hadn’t been big on apre-sex talking or cuddling. Bannon usually sent him straight to the bathroom after they finished scening or fucking, and his idea of aftercare was a pat on the ass and a casually tossed lap blanket. That should have been a big neon stop sign right there.
He remembered what it was like to be with someone who laughed and pulled him back to bed after sex. Someone who would hold him and keep him warm after an intense scene, letting him come down gently from the high of subspace. Someone who just wanted to be with him, full stop.
To get that in duplicate…
Considering your taste in boyfriends, you might as well wish for a couple of hot mermen. That’s about as likely to happen as you finding a pair of perfect Doms. Just be happy for Ian, and leave it at that.
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Mid Week Tease: Two to Tango #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 my current WIP, a M/M SF erotic caper story titled Two to Tango.
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 ruin his suicide by saving 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 pull them even closer?
###
Dmitri turned over, glancing down the line of their bodies. Rory’s erection was very obvious in his kilt, almost comically so. He must have been contorting himself to keep it off my ass.
Of course, now that he was face up, his own erection started filling out nicely.
Leaning over him, Rory started massaging his shoulders and arms, going nowhere near his nipples or other erogenous zones. Finally, Dmitri couldn’t stand it any more. “Um, you’re hard.”
“I know,” Rory said evenly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Kind of difficult to do that when it’s right over my stomach. Besides, so am I.”
Rory gave a half shrug. “Totally normal. Most guys get a boner during a massage. Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to make a move on you or anything.”
Dmitri didn’t understand why that admission annoyed him, but it did. “Of course not,” he muttered. “Why would you?”
Rory stopped at that, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dmitri turned his head. “I don’t know. Never mind.”
“Hey.” Long fingers cupped his chin, turning it back. “I’m not making a move on you because I don’t believe in hitting on someone when they don’t have a way out of the situation. I’m a thief, not a rapist. I mean, yes, I think you’re incredibly hot, which should be obvious by the fact that my cock can now cut diamond.” Rory glanced down at his crotch and grinned. “But that’s my problem, not yours.”
That’s what you think. Dmitri could feel Rory’s body heat moving through him, lighting up nerve endings that had been dead since Joss and Helene turned him into a scapegoat. He’d been sure that his life would be one long, slow slog through museum workshops, getting older and more bitter with each passing year until he was shunted off to some sterile senior station to die.
Instead, he had been kidnapped during a heist by the Known Worlds’ sexiest antiquities thief, arrested by and then rescued from CAPOD, been given the chance to restore a shattered Saolao ceremonial bowl, and now had said thief kneeling over him with a rock-hard erection after giving him the best massage of his life.
Why does it have to be a problem? He brought his hands to Rory’s exposed knees, watching the other man jump a bit from the unexpected contact. “What if I said yes?”
Rory frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“What.” Dmitri slowly ran his fingertips under the tartan, up Rory’s thighs. “If I.” He pressed the heels of his hands against the lean muscles, continuing his upward slide. “Said yes?” His fingers reached the top of each thigh, dancing over the crease where leg met groin. The skin was smooth there, but he could just feel the beginnings of crisp pubic hair brushing his thumbs, and the heat from what had to be an aching cock.
He wouldn’t let himself touch it. Not until he was sure they both wanted this. “Or do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Nooo, I think I’m catching on.” Rory leaned closer and kissed him, tongue flicking lightly across his upper lip. “You’re sure this all right?”
“Definitely.”
“Good. Because if you don’t touch my cock right now, my head is going to explode.”
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Mid Week Tease: Trickster
Happy Hump Day! Let’s celebrate it with the first Mid Week Tease of 2014, courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino. This week, I’ll be sharing a teaser from my newest M/M paranormal romp, Trickster.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Delaney Smith, coyote shifter and Trickster Technologies executive, thinks humans are bland, boring, and undateable. So he gets the shock of his life when he comes back from vacation and scents his mate in the Trickster offices — a mate who is not only male, but quite human.
Mark Fellowes is taken aback when the CTO at his new contract job makes a pass at him, and even more surprised at his temptation to respond. Straight and dating a career-minded businesswoman, he’s never even thought about kissing another man — until now.
When Mark is attacked by thieves bent on stealing company files, Delaney must put aside his preconceptions to protect his mate. But will a criminal bent on destroying Trickster Tech separate them before he can stake his claim?
###
Delaney ended the call and tossed the phone on his bedside table. He understood the importance of finding out who was trying to hack into Trickster’s servers. But God, this was a shitty time to make him play Sherlock, especially with his mate as the target.
Leaving his bedroom, he headed to the guest room and knocked on the door. “Mark? Can I come in?”
There was no answer. He opened the door and peered inside. Mark’s open bag was on the bed, and the bathroom door was shut. Behind it, he could hear the sound of the shower.
His natural curiosity kicked into gear. Quietly, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, ignoring the faint flicker of guilt. Well, nosing around is what coyotes do, he reasoned. And Scott pretty much ordered me to check him out, so I’m just following my Alpha’s orders.
Mark’s bag turned out to hold nothing but a clean set of casual clothes, some underwear, and a dress shirt, suit, and tie. Delaney took a deep breath, savoring the warm, woody scent wafting up from the clothes. A powerfully attractive image of shucking off his clothes and joining his mate in the shower came to him. I could scrub him clean all over, yeah, then kneel down and rim him until he’s begging–
His enhanced hearing picked up a soft moan. He stepped to the bathroom door, listening. Another moan, almost muffled by the sound the falling water, and a familiar slicking sound.
Delaney went hot all over, and his cock sprang back to life. Oh, fuck. He’s jacking off. He’s four feet away and he’s jacking off. Fuck, that’s so not fair.
His hand drifted to the front of his slacks, massaging the thick ridge there as he listened to his mate pleasure himself. When Mark grunted hard and came, Delaney was almost right behind him. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hand away, willing his heartbeat to slow down as the shower stopped.
The bathroom door opened and Mark stepped out, rubbing a towel over his hair. Another one was wrapped around his narrow hips, and Delaney wanted to take it off with his teeth.
He cleared his throat. Mark yelped and spun, bumping into the dresser next to the bed. The towel around his waist started to slip, and Delaney caught a glimpse of pale, muscled hip before Mark yanked the terrycloth back into place.
Panting, he glared at Delaney. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” he yelled. “Do you even know how to knock?”
“I did,” Delaney said, trying to sound innocent. “You didn’t answer so I got worried. Didn’t know you were in the shower until I came in here.” And you were coming in there.
Without his glasses, Mark’s resemblance to a furious faun was even more striking. “God. I do not need any more of this tonight,” he growled.
“This what?”
“You, sneaking around and following me everywhere.” He scowled at Delaney’s groin. “Especially with another fucking hard on.”
For some obscure reason, that cheered the shifter. “You noticed, huh?”
“Helen Keller would have noticed it, all right? Does it ever go down?”
“Not since this morning. I can’t help it, babe. I smell you and I get wood.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Mark muttered. “Look, I’m tired. I just want to put on some pajamas and crash, all right? We can talk about shapeshifters and–” he waved vaguely between them, “–that other thing in the morning.”
Delaney ignored the slap of disappointment and nodded. “Okay. We’ll talk later when you’re not tired.” Although you weren’t too tired to jerk off in the shower.
Mark’s cheeks blazed to life. “You listened to me?”
Oh, shit, did I say that out loud? “I’m sorry, but coyotes have really good hearing,” Delaney said defensively. “At least you got off. My balls are aching so much I can barely walk straight.”
“So go to your own damn bathroom and rub one out there!”
“It’s not about getting off, dammit!” Delaney yelled back, before catching himself. “Okay, it’s not just about getting off. God, I really wish you were a shifter. Then you’d understand.”
“Well, I’m not a shifter,” Mark snapped, “so you’re just going to have to explain it to the stupid human.”
“I — Jesus.” Delaney sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and find the right words. “Being drawn to a mate, it isn’t just physical. It’s emotional and spiritual as well.” He gestured at his groin. “Yes, I want to fuck you, that’s pretty damn obvious. I also want to know you. I want to talk to you, find out everything about you — where you grew up, what your family’s like, whether you like sports, what your favorite food is, your opinion on Steven Moffat, what you want to do with the rest of your life, all that. And I want you to get to know me, too.”
Mark wasn’t interrupting him, so he plunged on. “I’m originally from Phoenix, I love movies with big chase scenes, I collect action figures, The Lord of the Rings bored me shitless in book form although the movies rock, and I think the Tea Party needs to be sent to its own little island where they can’t hurt anyone,” he said quickly. “And I really want to make breakfast for you tomorrow morning because I make killer pancakes, then take you back to bed and watch The Avengers while we eat. I always wanted to do that with someone.” He paused. “God, please tell me you like The Avengers.”
“Yeah.” Mark’s scowl had eased during Delaney’s monologue, but he still looked skittish. “Wait — back to bed?”
“I’m trying to be optimistic here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What I’m trying to say is, this isn’t just about sex. It’s so much more than that. And I know this is way too fast for you, and if it’s any consolation this is scaring the shit out of me, too. But sometimes that’s just the way it happens for us. Shifters, I mean.”
That was all he had. If it wasn’t enough to convince Mark, he didn’t know what else to do. “I’m sorry. I swear to God, this isn’t how I wanted it to happen,” he said, feeling hollow. “I’ll let you get some sleep. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
He turned to go.
“Wait.”
###
Mark clutched at the towel around his waist. He knew he was acting like an abrasive asshole. It was his default mode when he was nervous as hell. The logical part of his brain said that he should be pissed off at being stalked by a freaky coyote shapeshifter who claimed Mark was his mate, then getting talked into staying overnight in the shifter’s guest room. Not to mention the hard-on Delaney kept springing every time they were alone together.
The rest of his brain was screaming at him to drop the towel and walk into Delaney’s arms. During his shower jerkoff session, he couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome executive and his lean, chiseled body. He’d tried fantasizing about Caren, he honestly had. But Delaney, with his sexy hands, broad shoulders and perfect mouth, was the one who kept coming to mind. And the sudden, blazingly hot mental image of Delaney kneeling down on the wet tile and using that perfect mouth to swallow his cock to the root had made Mark come so hard he’d almost blacked out.
It made no sense whatsoever. He didn’t know anything about Delaney Smith, apart from the fact that the man was built like an underwear model and still managed to be smart, funny, and a fellow geek. And dammit, he still wasn’t gay. But no matter what he did, his brain kept spiraling back to thoughts about Delaney, who had risked his own life to save Mark from being kidnapped. And then there was the kiss at the apartment…
Mark shivered. The kiss was when everything changed, if he was honest with himself. When Delaney kissed him, something deep inside his soul clicked, like a key turning in a lock. Like meeting the love of your life. Yes, he was still annoyed at the shifter for behaving like a jerk. But he also enjoyed Delaney’s snarkiness, and found the unexpected aspects of the man’s personality intriguing. And yes, that blatant, balls to the wall statement of desire was hot as hell.
But more importantly, underneath it all was a primal attraction so hot and deep that it scared him, and so utterly alluring that he just wanted to sink into it and bask. Somehow it didn’t matter anymore that Delaney Smith was not only a man, but a coyote shapeshifter as well. Illogical or not, Mark wanted — no, he needed to be in Delaney’s arms.
He just wasn’t sure how to do it.
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The downside of an incomplete writer’s high
So I spent the weekend in full-bore marathon mode in order to get Trickster finished, edited, and out the door to my betas, and then Evernight. Normally when I finish a writing project I get what I can only call a writer’s high. It’s this wonderful sense of extreme well-being and contentment that lasts somewhere between 12 and 24 hours.
But I didn’t get it this time, and I think I shot myself in the foot when I technically reached the end of the story Saturday and typed THE END, even though I knew full well that I had to go back and add some context and two sex scenes. The bugger of it is, that simple action seems to have short-circuited the full monty, which is fucking annoying. One of the things I like best about finishing a project is that I get a writer’s high in the first place — it’s the immediate gratification that makes a numb ass, confusion about what day it is, and the grease in my hair worthwhile.
But now — I dunno. It’s kind of like having a really mediocre orgasm, the sort that gets shut down almost as soon as it starts because the kids are banging on the bedroom door or you just can’t hang onto whatever masturbatory fantasy you’re using. And to add insult to injury, I can’t settle — I have His Last Vow on iPlayer, tons of crafting projects and three book covers to design, and I’m having a hell of a time making myself do any of them. As I told Ramón earlier, I feel like something inside me is just flapping in the wind, frustratingly incomplete. Come to think of it, I’m also craving my special mint and dark chocolate cookies, as well.
Unfortunately, my next writer’s high won’t be until I finish Two to Tango, which is still a good 15K off. So it looks like I’m going to be in for five days or so of delayed literary orgasm until I get Rory and Dmitri to their own happy ending. Bugger.
Maybe I’ll make those cookies after all…
Nicola Cameron Writes 