Wednesday, August 6, 2014

FASTER BOBCAT by Julia Talbot

With Stories by Katey Hawthorne, Kiernan Kelly, Sean Michael, Julia Talbot, BA Tortuga, KC Wells and Shannon West

Some men are bottoms by birth, others by choice. Whatever the reason, a designated bottom is someone who’s happy to surrender, to submit, or just catch instead of pitch!

In Czech Me Out, by BA Tortuga, Korde discovers what it’s like to fall for someone when food truck owner Josh takes on the cowboy virgin.

Katey Hawthorne’s gamer grad student Paul doesn’t date. He keeps things strictly physical. So why is Sammy so important to him in The Mistell?

Kitty shifter and stripper Aleks doesn’t mix business with pleasure, but he thinks Rafe might just be the master for him in Julia Talbot’s Faster Bobcat.

Sean Michael’s Peter isn’t sure about the club his friend takes him to, especially when Doms start hitting on him. Experienced Dom Rupert is happy to help, explaining about that Little Square of Cloth.

In Sgt. Hardass, by Shannon West, recent ex-Army man Jake meets up with a man he has history with, and Chad isn’t sure he can explain himself and defuse Jake’s anger.

In the Prince of Paupers by Kiernan Kelly, Prince Liam and longtime friend Deacon have to go back to Deacon’s Appalachian home, much to the prince’s dismay.

And in Switching It Up by KC Wells, Jay knows he looks like a twink, but only hunky Dean understands that looks can be seriously deceptive.

FASTER BOBCAT by Julia Talbot

Stripper Aleksy never mixes business with pleasure. And he certainly never dates another shifter. At least until he meets Rafe at his job, and can’t resist the chance to find the master he dreams about.

Rafe knows Aleksy is what he needs for the night. He’s just not certain he wants to take on a full-time sub. What he finds out is that he can’t live without Aleksy, but will he figure it out too late?

Excerpt from FASTER BOBCAT by Julia Talbot

“Aleksy, I need you over at table four.”

Aleksy glanced at his boss, who looked cool as a cucumber even though the damned air conditioning had gone out the day before and no one had been around to fix it. He supposed the heat made them all gleam a little more, made them look oiled and sexy.

He just hoped to hell he didn’t stink.

“Why’s that?” he asked. He had a gaggle of ladies at table six who wanted him to hang around for bottle service and musical grinding. They looked to be a huge tip, so he hated to abandon them.

“Special request.” Katia curled her lip at him, a hint of happy revenge in her expression. He had turned her down after she hired him and, while she’d taken it gracefully, she liked to put him in the most uncomfortable situations she could.

Hence taking him away from a great guaranteed tip and giving him to a private table that could only seat two, at best.

Aleksy sighed, but nodded. He liked his job at Faster Bobcat, and he had no desire to lose it by being petulant. The place was classy and the ladies rarely got grabby hands. He made some of the best money in Vegas off the strip. His boss wasn’t bitchy, but she could be a little grumpy once in a while.

He dropped off the bottle and introduced Carlo, who would take his place at the table. “Sorry, ladies,” he replied to the good-natured chorus of negatives. “Duty calls. Carlo will take good care of you.”

Then he squared his shoulders, made sure his tiny shorts covered his junk, and headed for table four.

The shadowy form sitting in the deeply recessed booth resolved itself into a strikingly handsome man with shaggy black hair and bright green eyes. Dressed in an impeccable silk shirt and gabardine trousers, the long, well-made body made Aleksy’s belly tighten. Pretty.

His boss thought he’d turned her down because she wasn’t pretty enough or something, so she was punishing him with a male client. Thing was, Aleksy had turned her down because he was queer, so this wasn’t punishment at all.

Well, except in the whole this guy was attractive and he was at work sort of way.

“Good evening, Sir. Welcome to Faster Bobcat. May I get you something to drink?”

The man looked him over, a slight smile playing around the sensual mouth. “I’d like bottle service, please. Patron, if that’s not too clichĂ©.”

Aleksy gave an answering smile. “Anything you like is perfectly fine, Sir. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.”

He turned and left, feeling the weight of the man’s stare on his back. Some people were like that, their charisma like a physical touch. He took a deep breath, his muscles clenching and unclenching. Maybe the guy would be a good tipper, as nicely as he was dressed. Then Friday night wouldn’t be a complete waste.

He got the bottle, a glass, some ice just in case, and salt and lime. No munchies. His new client didn’t look like a nuts and pretzels type. They had a limited menu of premium food; he would ask later if anything sounded good.

“Here you are, Sir,” Aleksy murmured, when he returned to the table. “Would you like me to pour?”

“No, I can do that.”

Nodding, he set the tray on the table and backed off a step, hands at his sides. “I understand you made a special request for me. May I perform anything special for you?”

“For now I would simply like to look at you.” The man reached for the Patron. “Will you put your hands up behind your neck, please? I think that pose shows off a man’s body to its best advantage.”

The words made him blink. His cheeks heated, which felt ridiculous since he stripped for a living. Somehow just standing there on display seemed far more intimate than gyrating away to the music.

“What’s your name?” the client asked, which set him back on his heels again.

How could he have forgotten to introduce himself with his stage name? “Lex.”

“Lex.” The client smiled before salting the rim of his glass. “Are you an Alex or an Alexander?”

“Aleksy.” It slipped out before he thought about it. He never told clients his real name.

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