ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL by Carolina Valdez

ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL by Carolina Valdez

Duty robbed them of their last night together. A deadly fireball struck Earth's New Los Angeles in the late afternoon, and instead of an evening of dinner and passionate sex with his lover, Battalion Chief David Garrison reported for duty and led his elite firewarrior squadron to fight the raging flames engulfing historic L.A. At first light the next morning, duty sends David's lover, Dillon Rapner, a special agent working undercover, off world to ferret out the source of these incendiary bombs destroying Old Town.

During his search, Dillon is captured and enslaved for several years on another planet. Only thoughts of returning to David, the man he would love forever, keeps Dillon alive and determined to escape.

Never in his wildest imaginings, however, did Dillon expect that when he returned to Earth he'd find another man in David's bed...

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~Excerpt~

...As Dillon talked, he reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head and off.

Even as weary as he was, David’s groin tightened at the sight of that familiar, well-muscled chest, the heat and touch of which he knew. He stopped chewing.

“Tomorrow we’ll start work. It’s possible we can make some sales here.” Their cover was as salesmen, but in code the words conveyed the message that they’d search for the source of the phosphorus and other rare elements used in the fireballs as well as for a launching station.

David knew finding these things would be a dead giveaway this planet was the bomb source. In response to diplomatic inquiries, Oragone’s Supreme Authority had denied the attacks originated there, and even the Intergalactic Council couldn’t budge them on this, but the launches continued. The fact was, unless the fireballs were shot from some undetected space vehicle, their planet was in the right trajectory and orbit to have launched them.

“Find the sons of a gun, man,” David said. As a warrior, he wanted to stop having to kill the havoc created by the incendiaries. It was unbelievable to him that their enemies didn’t seem to know they were firing on a basically dead part of the city. The more terrifying part was wondering what would happen if they ever figured that out.

As Dillon talked, his gold and amber eyes seemed to bore into David’s as he unbuckled the belt on his trousers and slid the zipper down with deliberate slowness.

David almost choked on the food in his mouth as he heard its casual whisper and watched it reveal black boxer briefs, which should be as sleek as Dillon’s sports car, but right now housed a large bulge straining their front. Dillon discarded the dark slacks and briefs, then turned and leaned over to fold his slacks and lay them on the bed. The smooth roundness of a butt that was at once firm and yet not so hard it didn’t have a sexy give when squeezed, hid the bunghole at the base of the crevice between its globes. His balls swung loose and low between thighs David knew weren’t as large as his own, but were still hard and powerful. Waves of sensation rushed through him as images of the unbridled sex they’d planned for that last night flashed like a kaleidoscope in his head.

The camera’s lens zoomed in close as Dillon turned. “I’ll show you mine, if you’ll show me yours.”

A dick already at half-mast emerged from a tight bush of tawny curls. Dillon continued to speak, his voice hoarse with sensuality, his words explicit and erotic.

David hadn’t expected interplanetary sex. All thoughts of food fled. He stopped listening to the words that followed, letting their cadence lure him as Dillon’s hand closed around his dick and played with it. Fascinated, hardly daring to breathe, David watched Dillon tug it out and in, out and in, thrusting his hips at David as fine threads spun from a wet cock, its veins so distended the foreskin slipped back and the enlarging tip of his penis turned purplish.

David’s breathing quickened to match the sound of Dillon’s. The dick cradled in the caressing fingers was in full cock mode as he played with the crown and smeared the creamy pre-cum over it, as if to lube it for penetration. He pointed the head directly at David and thrust his hips at him.

“Bear in mind what you see is only half-size,” Dillon said.

David’s laugh at Dillon’s humor ended in a groan. His aroused cock threatened to stain, even as it strained to break free of his workout pants. He stood, stepped away from the bar and thrust pants and briefs to his ankles. The air hit, washing his hard, hot, hungry length with coolness. He wanted to switch the camera on so Dillon could see this big, hungry cock, but he’d been fighting hell in Old Town when the transmission came in. It was prerecorded, not live.

“You’re killing me,” he said through gritted teeth. “So close and yet so far, far away...”


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OLD STONES AND NEW WINE

OLD STONES AND NEW WINE by Carolina Valdez

"A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou." Omar Khayyám

Victimized by the con man he'd been married to, and grieving the death of a beloved dog, internationally known mystery writer Alan Brynton plunges into complete writers block. Needing the income, and desperate to meet his publisher's deadline, he leaves Los Angeles and rents a house in a village in the south of France. Beside the blue Rhone River, among lush vineyards in wineproducing Provence, he struggles to overcome his anger and grief to break the hold the block has on him.

When rescuing an injured dog, he meets and finds himself falling for the irresistibly charming Frenchman, Jacques Marchand. But Jacques has the same easy charm his ex had, and having been burned in his marriage, Alan no longer trusts his ability to know who a person really is. He can't risk being victimized again, but can he risk losing the intoxicating "new wine" Jacques is to him?


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...Jacques was dressed in a lightweight charcoal suit, white shirt and a tie patterned in gray and black with subtle touches of red in the design. He had the body for it, and he looked so good Alan felt his gut clench. His eyes on Alan’s, Jacques loosened the knot on his tie and tugged it loose, then slid the top button of his shirt through its buttonhole.

Alan hadn’t realized how sexy and stirring that simple movement could be. It was as devastating as any seductive Chippendales dance. His heart sputtered, then broke into a race. It clogged his throat as he watched Jacques shrug out of his suit coat and hang it beside the raincoat. Jacques ran his hands through his wet hair, and Alan’s dick responded to sudden, electric sparks of desire shooting right through him.

“I’ll get a towel.” Did he really sound so lame? Alan’s tongue had trouble forming words. His cock had no trouble filling and rising. He turned away and hurried to the bath.

Alan handed a white towel to Jacques, who dropped it over his dark hair and blotted with one hand, while his other reached for Alan and pulled him close.

“You look very sexy in your nightwear, Alan Brynton.” His gaze fell on Alan’s crotch. “I see you’re feeling sexy, too. I hope that’s all for me.”

His hand teased as it brushed over Alan’s cock before he leaned in and tilted his head enough to capture Alan’s mouth. Alan opened to him, forgetting to breathe as sensations rolled over him. The smell of Jacques’s cologne and the lingering taste of the rich wine he must’ve had for dinner made the moment real. He closed his hands over the butt he’d ridden behind and ached to touch only hours ago. The cheeks were hard and firm, but just soft enough to be squeezed. He pulled this lover tight against his groin, reveling in the stiff cock he felt enclosed in suit pants as it pressed against his.

“I’m at a disadvantage. I’m not wearing a shirt, but you are,” Alan said. He reached up and tugged until the tie’s knot came completely undone and the silky fabric fell to the floor. His hands found the rest of the buttons, and Jacques watched as his fingers slipped the rest of them out of their holes.

Jacques undid the last buttons at his wrists. He shifted restlessly as Alan pulled the shirt out of his trousers and then off his shoulders.

Alan pressed his lips to the pounding pulse beat in Jacques’s neck and grazed his skin with his teeth as he ran his hands down the pelt of dark hair covering the wide chest. He felt for a belt.

“I left it in the car.” Desire made Jacques’s voice unsteady.

Alan stilled. The impact of the words settled in. “You planned this.”

“I did, mon amour.”

Alan found his zipper, and Jacques stopped his hand. “Be very careful…my underwear’s with my belt.”

Alan thought his knees would give way with the need to hurry before he exploded and stained his pajamas. “In that case…” He slid his other hand inside and covered Jacques’s warm and inviting package as the zipper whispered its way down and his palm grew slick with pre-cum.

The towel joined the forgotten tie on the floor, and Jacques gasped at Alan’s touch. He tugged Alan’s nightwear down and spanned the smooth skin between Alan’s hipbones with his hands.

“Don’t stop there.” Alan drew in a sharp breath when fingertips and a thumb closed around his swollen and throbbing cock. In turn, he let Jacques’s low-hanging sac rest in his hand. He thumbed the shaven skin, outlining each egg-shaped orb as he caressed them.

Jacques’s hand was firm and sure as he stroked and pulled Alan’s cock up and down, making it difficult to concentrate on pleasuring Jacques when so much excitement was building in his own body. He felt echoing tremors begin in Jacques just when they surged in Alan. He squeezed the sac, felt it tighten until it was snug up against his body, and knowing Jacques was on the verge of coming, he wrapped his hand around his lover’s hard cock and pumped faster and faster...

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UNMASKED by Carolina Valdez

UNMASKED by Carolina Valdez
Part of Amber Quill Allure's Masquerade Series

When they meet, Antony, an Italian-American, and Sam, a Frenchman, are immediately attracted to each other, even if costumed from head to toe for an elegant masked ball in Venice, Italy. Mid evening, when the men go into Antony's room to remove their full masks and replace them with those covering only half their faces, their attraction ignites sudden desire that drives them to fulfillment.

They're still drawn to each other when the complete unmasking occurs at midnight, but Sam isn't aware that Antony, a former hockey player, also harbors secrets he's not ready to reveal. As the weekend ends and the men each return to the United States, a discouraged Antony sees no future for their fling to build into something solid. He has a fledgling business to run on the California coast, and Sam's life revolves around energy-devouring hours of practice in a mountain ice rink in order to win figure skating's coveted World gold medal.

Their mutual love of skating might have kept these men together, but Antony still hides behind a mask. What will it take to strip it away and give the star-crossed lovers a chance for love?

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Excerpt:

...Antony pushed back his hood, and dark brown hair with golden highlights tumbled out. He ran a brush through his hair. “God, but that feels good. We’ll need our half masks, but the hoods can go.” He handed the brush to Sam. “Want to use it?”

Sam freed his head from the hood and ran the brush through his sandy blond hair. Amazing how intimate just sharing his brush felt.

“I might have known you were blond,” Antony said in a quiet voice.

“Oh?”

The need to touch Antony had been so strong all evening that Sam couldn’t resist tipping up the man’s face now. “And then there’re your eyes. Now I understand the reason for the smoky lenses in your mask. Anyone who knew you would guess on the spot who you were just because of these remarkable eyes.”

Antony looked down, his composure seeming to evaporate at the compliment.

Sam ran his finger with a light touch along the scar he’d seen peeking from beneath the half mask. “The accident?”

Antony nodded.

“It gives you character.” Without thinking, Sam framed Antony’s face with his hands and leaned in to press his lips on his eyelids, closing them.

Antony let out a slow breath and rested his hands on Sam’s hips.

Sam boldly sought the lips he’d wanted to taste all evening.

Antony’s response was immediate. He slid his hands around to Sam’s butt and pulled him hard against him. He opened his mouth, and when Sam’s opened in pleasure and surprise, his tongue dived in. They tasted and explored heat and wetness, tongues twisting, then penetrating with the foretaste of sex, hot and steamy.

Lust ignited in Sam’s groin and, hungry to satisfy it, he fought to find a way into Antony’s pants to touch the thick cock rubbing against his. With a groan, Antony reached under his top and pushed his pants down enough his erection could spring free. They both stared as it landed in Sam’s hand.

The blue veins on his cock were distended, mapping the way to an almost purple crown.

“Rub me,” Antony said, in a strangled his voice.

Sam’s pulse raced as, one-handed, he freed his own cock. The minute Antony’s warm hand closed around it, he began to tremble with the need to feel more and lose himself in the feelings.

When Antony released him and pulled his hand away, Sam uttered a firm “No,” as the warmth and pressure of the hand disappeared. He reached for Antony’s hand and sought to guide it back to his oozing, aching hard-on.

“Wait. We’ll ruin our costumes. I have condoms.”

In seconds, they’d stripped, velvet falling to the ground in a silent settling of black and cerulean, while stockings, boots and shoes joined it with a thud. Antony pushed Sam until he fell back on the bed, and Antony unrolled the thin latex sheath over him and pressed another into Sam’s hand. Antony leaned down, and Sam felt heat as Antony stroked his balls with a light touch, gently squeezing before kissing them. Then he licked, his tongue circling each globe.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Antony said as his hot breath laved the sac even as his mouth did. “All night I’ve wanted to fuck you so bad I couldn’t stand it. I guessed I’d have had to jerk off if you weren’t gay, if you hadn’t wanted this, too.”

He knelt and straddled Sam, jutting out his cock. Sam sheathed him, bringing a gasp from Antony. “Did it feel that good for you?”

Sam knew it was a rhetorical question. Antony took his cock in his hand and traced Sam’s belly button with it, pushing its crown into the shallow dip.

Sam pulled Antony onto him, and as soon as Antony’s body covered his, they kissed open-mouthed as they pressed and rocked their cocks together in frenzied mating. The room rang with the little moans of their lovemaking as they strained to drain every ounce of pleasure out of the act...

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IN FROM THE COLD by Carolina Valdez

IN FROM THE COLD by Carolina Valdez

East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet...

Jon and Wendell were fourteen when they first experimented with each other and discovered they were gay. Lovers and in love, they drifted apart after graduation when Jon left to follow his dream to rock 'n' roll stardom. A heartbroken Wendell recovered by earning an animal husbandry degree at a California university. He returned to the small Oregon town where they'd grown up to raise sheep with his father.

Ten years later, Wendell's contentment is shattered when Jon and his band arrive to play for their high school reunion. Love surprises both men by immediately flaring into liquid heat. Jon begs Wendell to give up his life in Oregon and live with him in New York City. Wendell refuses, however, asking Jon to move in with him instead. But Jon refuses to abandon his career and returns to Manhattan.

Will Wendell and Jon remain star-crossed lovers, or will they find a way to bridge the distance and discover the true meaning of "home"?

Note: IN FROM THE COLD is included in the five-story erotic gay WHERE THE HEART IS AmberPax 

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Excerpt:

...Wendell froze. He forgot to breathe. Warm lips touched the hollow just beneath his right ear and a tongue slowly tasted, savoring him. He closed his eyes as the tonguing changed to a wet mouth trailing kisses with agonizing slowness down his neck to where his sleep top began. Fingers slid beneath the neck and slid across his bare skin, following its line.

“I wore your gift tonight,” Jon said in a voice as rough as gravel.

Mesmerized by the touch of Jon’s mouth and hands, all Wendell could get out was, “I noticed.” When a lack of oxygen threatened to cause a blackout, he drew in a long breath through his nose. Not my soap, he thought. Not my shampoo. Only Jon’s scent. His soap, his shampoo, his arms strong and familiar around me.

His lips and tongue that I have missed so very much.

He crossed his arms over Jon’s and became aware of the rock-hard cock pressing against his buttocks and his dick growing long and big in response. That, too, was familiar. He didn’t want to move, to stop the mouth at his neck or destroy the pleasures rumbling inside him. He just wanted to stand there and feel Jon in the stillness, with the blazing fire shooting flickering shadows around them, and convince himself Jon was real and this wasn’t a dream.

Jon released his waist and turned Wendell to face him as his lips brushed over the corners of his closed eyes and his tongue lapped at the tip of his nose before zeroing in to devour Wendell’s mouth. As the kiss deepened and their tongues intertwined in an imitation of penetrating sex, Wendell wrapped his arms around Jon and ran his hands up and down the broad back. Jon thrust his pelvis against Wendell’s until they were so tight together he couldn’t tell Jon’s dick from his. It didn’t matter. Melding into him, becoming one with him was all that mattered as erotic sparks shot through him and lust caused his body to quiver.

Someone groaned, and Wendell realized it came from his throat.

Jon must’ve taken that as a signal to slip his hand beneath the band of Wendell’s sleep pants because he was there, and his hard knuckles stroked the tender flesh above Wendell’s bush.

“Lower. Go lower,” Wendell begged, hungry for and helpless against the sensual onslaught. He rocked his hips from side to side to increase the friction as the knuckles continued to rub.

Jon was trembling now. He slid Wendell’s sleep pants down and took his cock in hand.

“Not here,” Wendell warned, his voice thick and hoarse with what testosterone was doing to his vocal chords. “I’m on the verge.”

“Yes, here,” Jon insisted as he pulled down his own pants and wrapped Wendell’s hand around his tight erection. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long I’m not going to let you go. Besides, we have all night.”

Pleasure splintered Wendell, and he exhaled with a groan as he enjoyed those all too brief seconds when everything centered in his groin and drowned his entire body in feeling.

“Oh, God, Wendell. Wendell.” Jon moaned as he came, too.

Later, they wandered to bed, stripped, crawled under the covers and died to the world.

In the deepest part of the night, Wendell roused to the weight of someone, something on his butt, something hard and velvety gliding, sliding in and out of his crack. Something nipped at his shoulder. “Is that you, Jon?”

“Who else, lover?”

He started to turn, but hands captured his shoulders and kept him in place as Jon’s knees forced his thighs apart. Hands rubbed his back as Jon licked his skin, awakening nerve endings running the length of his body. Thinking he should only feel this in his groin, the sensations caused every nerve to spring to life. Awash in feeling, he decided to relax and enjoy it, not to miss even one little flicker of arousal...

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