DESERT TRYST by Susanne Saville

DESERT TRYST by Susanne Saville 

A 1Night Stand

The cat-and-mouse game between professional assassin Dmitri Dzerzhinsky and FBI Special Agent Thomas Dalton may be developing into something more, at least for Dmitri. Blurring which side Dmitri’s on can’t continue. Hoping to get rid of his desire for Thomas, Dmitri goes to 1Night Stand for help.

Unaware of the assassin’s interest, Thomas is attracted to Dmitri as well. So, discovering Madame Eve has given the Special Agent a night with the man of his dreams seems too good to be true.

Sometimes it’s dangerous to get what you wish for. Can two men on opposite sides of the law find common ground beyond their mutual attraction? 

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Excerpt:

As calm a declaration of war as ever there was.

I know that voice. I’ve dreamt of that voice. Dreamt of it whispering the most carnal, arousing things to me in his dry, Midwestern baritone.

It’s because of the owner of this voice that I’m now in the predicament I’m in.

Yearning for one night with a surrogate for my very Special Agent, I’m now cornered by the actual, very genuine Thomas Dalton.

I consider the odds of a successful escape. I’m sitting, he’s standing. He’s taller, by an inch or two, but I have more muscle. I could probably take him down and get out the door, but if he has backup outside, I’m dead.

Which would be a rather disappointing end to this evening.

Remaining seated seems my best option. Maybe it’s a subconscious death wish, but I’ve been lucky before letting things play out and seizing the unexpected opportunity. I’m also in no hurry to hurt him.

Then again, I never like hurting him. The few times I’ve allowed us a protracted brawl, because, honestly, that’s a very stupid move—always go for the quick takedown or the clean getaway—I barely defended myself. Does he realize the physical risks I’ve taken just to spend a few minutes in his company?

I hope not.

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BLAKE'S HOME by Cheryl Dragon

BLAKE'S HOME by Cheryl Dragon

Love Shack 1

Plenty of men have tried to get ranch hand Blake Louis to The Love Shack but none succeed. At the White family ranch, Blake has found friends and a home. He desperately wants to stay. Yet he must keep his shifter secret and avoid his feelings for Jared White. This job has to work out. No one ever wanted him forever—none of his family did—so why would a rich successful rancher want more than a roll in the hay with a dirt poor ranch hand?

Screwing the staff is a bad idea but Jared White needs more than sex from Blake. The men are friends but he’ll risk it for a chance at more. Love has never worked for Jared and a childhood rival delights in sabotaging him. Jared can’t give up hope. He believes that Blake is the one.

The only smart place to start is The Love Shack, a neutral place where Jared isn’t the boss and Blake isn’t the hand. Determined to win Blake’s heart, Jared delves into Blake’s past. As amazing as the sex is, Blake resists sweet promises. Love, trust, and happiness are as crazy to Blake as the bobcat he can shift into.

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~Excerpt~

Streamers and balloons dotted the wide yard behind the massive house so no one missed the party, as if anyone could. The massive outdoor barbecue was an acre of people solid. Nonessential work at the White Ranch was suspended for the sixty-fifth birthday of the patriarch and owner. The families from the three bordering ranches and their staff were also invited.

Blake Louis hadn’t seen that many people outside a big city, and he rarely went to the city. His muscles ached for any excuse to hop on a horse and ride out into the open fields. As a ranch hand here for all of four months, he knew the White family, but everyone else was just by reputation and gossip.

After working his hour at the barbeque, Blake hung back and helped where needed. He didn’t have shiny new boots, crisp collared shirts, or even new jeans. The event was far from black tie, but even the White boys brought out their best hats and boots for the occasion. So Blake just watched, content in the fact that he liked his new job and had eaten his fill of excellent barbeque.

A well-built man with curly brown hair nodded to Blake from several feet away. Blake smiled and almost looked behind him. His attempt to be invisible had failed. The man was from the Chester ranch and had been strictly hanging with that group most of the day. It took time, but Blake was starting to catch on about some of the rivalries and egos. Even on a huge Montana ranch, politics and games still happened. That didn’t mean Blake couldn’t enjoy the view of hot men.

Blake stoked the fire and pretended not to notice the attractive man coming closer. The four ranches were neighborly and competitive at the same time. Blake was still new and didn’t want to step on the wrong toes. The flutter of arousal was hard to ignore.

“Are you the master chef?” the man asked.

Blake lifted his worn hat and wiped his forehead. “No, not me. Just a ranch hand helping out. I’m not the best at being social. Blake Louis.”

The other man extended his hand. “Randy. Nice to meet you, Blake. You should circulate and meet some new people.”

Shaking Randy’s hand, Blake felt a playful squeeze. The sexual undercurrent tormented him. “I’m fairly new to White’s Ranch. It’s a big place with plenty of work.”

“Gotta have some fun, though. It’s a party.” Randy took two steps closer and slowly pulled Blake in a bit before releasing his hand. “I haven’t seen you at the Love Shack. You should come by the Chester ranch some time. No work, just a ride or something. It’s nice to have fresh blood around here.”

Fresh blood? The term left Blake uneasy. “A good ride is a nice way to spend a day off.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Randy said.

Blake nodded as Randy was called away by one of his earlier companions. Avoiding major personal entanglements was a goal of Blake’s, and he’d managed to succeed since getting this job. He wanted to find a place to settle, and this place had potential. Moving on all the time had grown old.

None of his previous employers had treated employees as well as the Whites did. The family members worked every bit as hard as the staff and weren’t snobs. The pay was better than fair, and the food was great. Blake wanted a future here.

The only problem was the crush Blake had on the sexy youngest son, Jared White. Over the months the attraction had grown to friendship and a longing for something more. Blake did his best to hide his affection, but Jared was friendly.

The target of Blake’s interest crossed his path, and he stopped short. “You did your time, you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

Blake grinned at his biggest temptation. The man was just shy of thirty and haunted Blake’s dreams. “I was just people watching.”

The fact that Jared was the main guy he’d been watching until Randy had interrupted him hopefully remained a secret. Jared had short black hair, blue eyes, and plenty of muscles to make women and men stare. A sturdy six feet two, Jared made it hard for Blake not to lean on that sexy shoulder. But Blake had years of practice at self-control on many levels.

Jared made this job complicated for Blake. Every place he’d worked, he ran into an issue. White’s was a nice place. Crushing on the boss’s baby boy wasn’t smart--even if Blake was two years younger than Jared. Blake had bigger reasons to stay away and his shifter secret was harder to explain than his turbulent childhood.

“I’ve been trying to drag him to the keg, but he’s trying to impress you.” Frankie Saunders wandered up next to Jared.

Blake shot the other ranch hand a look that said shut up! Frankie was a lean, mean, blond, spiky-haired, gay flirting machine in his mid-thirties who loved to stir any pot nearby. He’d become Blake’s friend and the only one who knew about his crush. However, thanks to the picnic, Blake had learned that gay wasn’t something that needed to be a secret here.

“You’re a hard worker, Blake. Enjoy your time off. We don’t do huge parties like this all the time. Come to the Shack tonight and have some fun.” Jared smiled and patted Blake’s shoulder.

Hank, the oldest of the White boys, called Jared over, and the sexy cowboy was gone. Blake stopped flexing and relaxed.

Frankie’s grin got even bigger. “We need to go to the Shack tonight. He invited you. Take the hint and hit on him already. Or is Randy more your type? Playing hard to get was smart. Jared noticed.”

“I don’t know Randy at all, and he came up to me. But he mentioned the Shack too. Jared is basically my boss. I don’t want to screw this up. He’s just being nice.” Blake looked out at the crowd and felt like he was being watched. “All these people are making me nervous.”

Frankie shrugged. “There is some checking out the competition at these events. Enjoy the eye candy while it’s here. You have more options than Jared, if doing the boss is so scary.”

“The Love Shack is asking for trouble.” Blake shoved Frankie playfully. Having a job where it was safe to be gay motivated Blake even more not to slack. The Shack was where men went to drink, hang out, and hook up in the back room. The amenities of the Shack were free to anyone who lived at or worked for the four ranches that supported it; the old pole barn sat on the spot where the four properties met. Rumor was it used to be an emergency shelter when weather turned or vehicles gave out--now it had two functions.

“No, the Love Shack is about having fun. You don’t have to go to the back room. The front has a bar, pool table, TV, and all that. Plus it’s free and not far. Saves hands from blowing their paychecks in bars or on hookers. Keeps them from driving when they’ve had too many--you can always get a ride. Everyone wins. You don’t have to suck anyone’s dick.” Frankie grinned like he knew Blake couldn’t resist.

Blake liked having friends and people who had his back. The Love Shack sounded appealing, but Blake didn’t drink too much. Giving in to temptations wasn’t a habit for him. To say his mother had addiction issues was an understatement. He wasn’t about to repeat her mistakes.

What he really wanted was to move up and have a career, if he could stay here. Love was a fantasy sold by society. “Getting drunk and screwing random guys won’t earn me a promotion.”

“Screwing Jared might. Show him your take-charge side,” Frankie teased.

“I don’t want a job that way.” Blake noticed the big guy from earlier eyeing him. “Who is that Randy guy?”

“Randy. That Randy? He’s a Chester. The middle son of the Chesters’ ranch. There are a zillion Chesters. They employ cousins and all live there. Hell, they reproduce like bunnies,” Frankie said.

“So why’s he looking at us?” Blake didn’t let the flattery or surprise show. Randy was a family member. Here it didn’t matter what color you were or where you came from. You were part of the owners’ level or staff level. They interacted and respected one another, but staff was replaceable. Blood was not.

He’d been invited riding by a Chester? The guy was well dressed, but he could’ve been staff. Crap! Jared was a good guy, but Blake didn’t want to upset any of the owners. He could go and be social at the Shack. Blake shifted his weight and sucked in the fresh air of fall. It was still nice out, but winter was coming. He’d need better clothes to trudge through snow. Being from the south, he didn’t really want to experience a real winter up here.

But he didn’t want to leave White’s Ranch. The thought of leaving knotted up his gut.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw Randy drooling all over you before. He’s the gay one that I know of. Plus he and Jared always had a little competition between them. That little ranch hand hottie next to him is Carter. I’ve seen them screwing at the Shack. But they get into group stuff. Way too wild for you. Come on, you need to know more of these people.” Frankie led Blake by the arm.

“Sure. Thanks.” Blake checked out Randy and the ranch hand. If he wasn’t going to go after Jared, he’d need to have a little fun eventually. Then again, a casual group thing, maybe no one would notice or care?

“Those are the Greens. The oldest son is a closet case, sort of like Hank, but their patriarch isn’t as open-minded as Mr. White. At least that’s the word around the barns. They are known for showing horses and breeding them for racing.”

“Hank’s in the closet?” Blake hadn’t paid much attention to the elder White brother except for work. Tall, broad, and intimidating by any standards, Hank was mid-forties and all business.

“Yes and no. He’s a workaholic. He and Jared never go to the Shack on the same nights. Hank is extremely discreet. He has a glory hole addiction, so nothing personal.” Frankie rolled his eyes.

“You like Hank?” Blake had noticed the glint in Frankie’s eye when he talked about him.

“I like all hot gay men. I don’t discriminate. He might need a little help out of the closet someday, and I’ll probably still be here. But you have a good shot with Jared so stop dragging your cowboy boots.” Frankie glanced down. “You really need to get a new pair too. Not to be a fashion diva, but everything you own is pretty worn. Winter here is rough.”

Blake always wore his stuff totally out before splurging on new things or used things. “I’ve moved around a lot. Money is tight. Not every ranch is cool with gay hands or pays decent. Plus, I don’t like waste. When something wears out, I replace it. But it’s still warm out--no reason to pull out the new winter stuff.”

“You’re good here. Everyone likes you, even Hank is impressed. Clothes I get, but those boots look older than you are. Okay, fine, I’m dropping it, but you’re on your feet a lot. Solid quality is what I mean. It’s not allabout show.”

“I’ll look into it.” Blake had resoled his uncle’s old pair a few times. Maybe someday...

Frankie turned and pointed at the small circle. “Last of the four families are the Austens. They are more proper, very religious and conservative. Heavy into traditional cattle, they don’t diversify and don’t socialize except when it would be rude not to. See, they’re all clustered together. None of their staff is here.”

“Weird. They don’t let their staff come? Glad I didn’t get hired over there. I’ll try to keep it all straight. It’s a lot of people to learn. Their staff comes to the Shack?” Blake asked.

“Austen staff? Sure, but they don’t want to get caught with their pants down. The Austens only support the Shack as an emergency shelter but understand the social outlet keeps the barn well maintained. It’s not all about the sex. Plenty of the straights come for a free drink and premium sports on a big TV. When they’re horny, they venture into town, but the rest of us enjoy the perk of the back room. You’re missing a huge benefit of working here. Lots of stress-relieving, hard, sexy cowboys. They’d love to have you there.” Frankie bit his lower lip.

“Subtle.” Blake laughed, but the temptation grew bigger. “Jared asked me so I guess I should go.”

Frankie nodded. “It’s not a date so don’t get weird. Get him in the back room and enjoy. That’s a step in the right direction.”

The idea sounded great, but Blake didn’t want to be just sex. That’s all he’d really had from men all his life. He didn’t want to get his heart mangled when he was finally feeling safe here.

Maybe it was a mistake, but he’d begun to hope for more in life than hard work, poor wages, and random gay bar hookups. Love was a mysterious thing that happened to others. Security was real. He had the ranch skills and somewhere he’d be more than just a hand.

“We’ll see.” Blake shrugged.

“Hedging your bets. Blake, you’re good. You’re the best hand here. Everyone knows that you have a diverse background, and you’re an asset. Hank wants you on his dairy addition project,” Frankie said.

“I know nothing about dairy cows. I’ve worked goats, pigs, cattle, and horses, but dairy is not my area.” Blake had already told that to Hank.

“Right, but you learn fast and you’ve done a bunch of different stuff. Pigs and goats--Hank has talked about both. Moving around and working ranches all over is good experience Hank and Jared don’t have. Most of us grew up locally without opportunities. We ranch what we know. Cattle and horses. That’s Montana.” Frankie nodded to the big blue sky.

The view made Blake never want to leave. Acres of rolling grass and countless heads of cattle grazing in the distance. The Whites’ main house was a huge two-story aptly painted white with maroon trim. The employee housing was the nicest Blake had ever seen. “Winters will be rough.”

“Brutal, but it’s every bit as pretty with the snow. We find ways to stay warm.” Frankie headed toward the dessert tables.

“Did you boys get enough to eat? You both look a little lean to me,” Mrs. White fussed.

“I’m stuffed, thank you, ma’am,” Blake said.

“It was delicious,” Frankie added.

“I hope you saved room for the main cake. You have to try it.” She wagged a finger at them.

“We will. Can’t wait.” Frankie nodded.

Blake wanted to contribute, but he found himself tongue-tied. Women always found fault with him. His mother. His aunt. Nothing he ever did was good enough or right. Mother figures especially made him uneasy.

Men he could handle. Men he understood. He took off his hat and smiled politely at Jared’s mother.

Jared walked up next to his mother. “Where’s Hank? It takes two to carry that monster cake out. Why can’t you just make a few shorter cakes?”

“It’s not as impressive.” She put her hands on her hips.

“This isn’t a wedding.” Jared rolled his eyes at Blake.

“If one of my two single boys would give me a wedding to throw, maybe I wouldn’t need to go all out for your father’s birthday? Get these two to help you. Hank is dealing with the Greens. They’re always trying to buy all our best horses.” She pointed out her eldest son.

“I’ll help,” Blake said a little too enthusiastically. Then it was too late to take it back.

He followed Jared into the big house, enjoying the view of Jared’s ass in tight denim.

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GEEK IN THE WOODS by Cheryl Dragon

GEEK IN THE WOODS by Cheryl Dragon 

Major construction disrupts more than Ray Hooker’s life; it rattles his small town with a secret.

As sexy genius Eric Ridgeway continues building his state-of-the-art think tank, the town’s shifter population is terrified their identities will be uncovered by the group of incoming scientists. When fear drives vandals to slow construction, Ray helps Eric defend his property. Their relationship heats up and, in order to protect Eric, Ray reveals that he’s a bear shifter.

Now, not only is his secret out of the bag, but Ray needs to decide if loving Eric is worth the risk of discovery by other scientists. None of that will matter if their newfound attraction can’t outlast fear, lies and distrust!

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Excerpt:

The talk all over Bear Cove was about the big construction machines rolling in and out as work was done on a large piece of land. The small town shared a boarder with Greenville, Maine, but the new property owner wasn’t from either place. Ray Hooker didn’t like the unsettled feeling change brought to the small town he loved, but he’d adapt.

He walked into Bear Cove’s only gay bar, The Black Den, and nodded to a few people. The well-maintained building looked more like a hunting lodge with flannel and a touch of flair. He knew all of the people there had the same question on their mind. They wanted to ask Ray what he knew. Since he ran the local handyman business and matched men to projects and work, he knew the business and local contractors.

Grabbing a stool at the bar, Ray smiled at his old pal behind it. Gus had a talent for listening, like every good bartender, but Gus went even further. He always had a feeling about what troubled people. Even when they were little kids. He always seemed interested and kept things to himself, which was why Ray tried not to impose too much.

“What’s new?” Gus asked.

Ray sighed and looked around. The music actually stopped and people gathered. “We all know a new man has come to town. All that construction has meant some added work around here so let’s not get negative. The new owner is a genius. The eccentrics like to have a lot of land and build their dreams. He’s clearly a millionaire and a scientist from Princeton and Stanford.”

“Eric Ridgeway. He’s staying at the Bear Cove Inn,” said a young man who worked at the inn.

“Dr. Ridgeway is a PhD in environmental something or other. I looked him up. Very rich, very well connected, and very smart.” Thad, Ray’s other best friend, folded his arms.

Ray smiled at Thad, who was the local tech head. Until now, Thad had always been the smartest guy in town.

“A tree hugger?” someone asked.

“A scientist,” Thad repeated. “We have to be careful. He’s not just here to save an owl or hunt some game.”

Ray traded a look with Gus. “Thad’s right. We need to get the word out. All shifters need to be on extra alert. Be very careful when and where you shift. No unnecessary risks. We don’t need any scientists to uncover the secret here.”

“Maybe we can get rid of him?” suggested Matthew.

The young hothead was exactly what Ray had been worried about and why he hadn’t broken the bad news sooner. He needed to see the truth for himself. That building was massive. Plenty of scientists had to be coming. “None of that. He’s bought land legally. He can build whatever he wants. Plans are for a think tank.”

“What’s that?” Gus asked.

“A place where geniuses get together and debate, work, and solve the mysteries of the universe,” Thad said.

“So far none of those think tanks have worked out then, I guess.” Gus laughed.

There were snickers and mutterings from the patrons. The bar drew men from Bear Cove and Greenville. Here there was no secret of shifters living alongside humans. But outsiders were eyed with suspicion.

“He might not be around much. They might stick to their think tank. Do their work and go away. The building will be big enough to house them so they might not mingle with the population. We don’t need to panic,” Ray said.

“We’re being invaded by scientists. Men who study, investigate, and dissect things for a living. I don’t want to be cut up or locked in a cage and tested on like a lab rat.” Matthew scowled.

A couple of his friends nodded in agreement. Ray didn’t like the crowd’s growing agitation... The sight of tense muscles and clenched fists wasn’t good.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to be careful. Not giveaway our secret. We’ve done it plenty of times. Tourists come in every summer. Plenty of the humans around here have friends or family come to visit. We can do this. Avoid the geeks if you like, but don’t harass them. Making them suspicious won’t help anyone. The sheriff has to do his job, not keep our secret. This think tank could be good. It might mean permanent jobs. Don’t panic because one new guy comes to town,” Ray said.

He didn’t want to add that the attractive man with glasses he’d spied at the construction site was lean and not overly tall but solid. That the guy had brown hair, blue eyes, and a calm way about him. That Ray wanted to know the scientist better, not run him off.

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HERE WITHOUT YOU by Megan Slayer

HERE WITHOUT YOU by Megan Slayer

Some guys have all the luck and some guys love the pain. Slash Gunderson knows that feeling well. His place behind the drums for Glow is a dream come true. Can he accept his need for kink and the man who makes his heart beat?

Hiram Moline loves his job as the head of security for Glow. He's also in love with Slash. There's one major glitch -- someone has been sending Slash threatening letters. Hiram's not about to let anything happen to Slash. Can he convince Slash they've got something strong or will the stalker get the upper hand?

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Here Without You
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Megan Slayer

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

"There is nothing like the feeling of walking in the door after a long tour and knowing you don't have to go anywhere for at least a week." Slash Gunderson tossed his duffle bag onto the floor and took a deep breath. The pine scent of his rustic home swirled around him, embracing him like an old friend. He loved the sound of silence. He'd thought about getting a bulldog or a couple of cats, but touring made having a pet damned near impossible. The silence also reminded him he didn't have the one thing he really wanted -- someone to share the house with. Not a roommate or a housemate, but a lover. Someone he trusted and wanted to be around. Sure, he loved the guys from Glow like brothers, but being that two were married and one was in a permanent relationship, he wasn't likely to score a hook-up.

Hook-ups. Slash toed off his running shoes, then flipped through the mail he'd picked up from the floor. No one really knew his address, so getting mail was like getting gold. "Bill, bill, bill," he muttered and flipped through the thin stack of envelopes.

One envelope bore smears and a scrawled address line. The return address had suffered more smearing, but the handwriting... he knew that writing. Knew it eerily well. V -- the crazy behind the mutilation letters -- was back.

He gulped and fought back the bile on his tongue.

The author of the letter made a point in large script to let Slash know who he or she was -- sort of. Another letter couldn't be good, and this one had something heavy in it.

The more Slash touched the envelope, the more he realized there wasn't just a piece of paper inside. Slash looked around the foyer and tossed the letter on the floor. Damn. If someone wanted to poison him, especially V, then Slash's need to read the mail had helped start the process.

He dropped the remaining letters onto the side table and took out his cell. He pressed the buttons to call the one person he trusted. Save for the police and the other guys in the band, there weren't too many people Slash counted on. Hiram ranked in the top slot.

"Moline."

The tingle shooting up Slash's spine shifted from fear to excitement. Every time he heard Hiram's bass voice, his body reacted. Hiram Moline's ensemble screamed, "I can kick your ass with a smile and not break a sweat." All muscle and brood with the right amount of snarl to make him sexy. Just being around Hiram scrambled Slash's brains. "Hey, man. I've got an envelope here. Can't read the damn thing."

"Okay. Is it like before?"

"I think so."

Besides being the best security guard Slash knew, Hiram cared. They'd gone out more than a couple times and ended the night together. They had a bond, unconventional, with handcuffs and a serious need to be spanked, but a bond nonetheless. When Hiram held him, Slash felt at ease and adored. Was that nuts?

"I'll be there in a moment."

The reassurance in Hiram's voice lifted Slash's spirits for a heartbeat. "How?" Where was Hiram if he could be there in a little bit? Slash turned to the sound of gravel crunching and peeked through the glass panels on either side of the front door. The fear subsided a bit.

Hiram climbed out of his truck and marched up the walkway. Good timing. Slash disconnected the call and placed the phone next to the discarded mail. "I was on my way here anyway. I wanted to talk to you, but I'd like to get this sorted out first. Let me see what you have."

Normally when Hiram walked through the door, all Slash could think of was jumping on him. Not with a strange letter lying at his feet. The fear came back and lumped in his belly.

"Fuck." Slash tapped his foot. "I should've called the cops first." God, he hated when his confidence tanked.

"Probably." Hiram's brows knotted and the muscles in his jaw tensed. "Doesn't look suspicious, but hell, who knows with this shit?" He groaned. "I'm not sure what the hell to do. If we open it and it's got something wicked in it, we're fucked. If it's on the level, we're not." He shook his head. "Fuck it. I don't feel right about letting it go."

Slash's skin crawled. He listened to Hiram make the phone call, but his thoughts went every which way. The life of a rock star quite frankly rocked. He loved every moment in the studio, the concerts for the fans, the meetings with the Glow Kids. Touring left a bit to be desired, but most of that was the time sitting idle in the bus. Whoever said the miles were endless wasn't kidding. He blew out a long breath and swallowed past the lump of fear in his throat. He held one of the scariest parts of being famous -- people who wanted to harm anyone in the media spotlight. His palms sweated and his foot bounced like it did when he got nervous. Having Hiram there helped, but as Hiram said, who knew what was in the letter?

Hiram nodded again and slipped his phone into the holster on his jeans pocket. "Called Mitchell Green with the Olmstead Police Department. He said they'd bag it and test your hand for chemicals. Shouldn't be ten minutes. No sweat."

No sweat. Slash closed his eyes. The only thing he feared more than the damned envelope was an attack from a fan. For all he knew the letter was the attack. He'd always imagined someone would try to hurt him while he was on stage.

"You're over-thinking." Hiram stepped in close enough his breath warmed Slash's cheeks. "Hey. I'm not about to let anyone hurt you."

Without looking at Hiram, Slash opened his eyes. The honesty in Hiram's voice got to him. His heart raced. Fuck buddies weren't supposed to have feelings for each other, and that was what he and Hiram were, right? He had to say something. "You say that to all the band members. Half the band is your family."

There, that put the emotions on ice and got his blossoming feelings back behind the wall surrounding his heart.

"That's not fair." Hiram tipped Slash's chin up, forcing him to look into Hiram's eyes. Instead of ridicule, something else shone in the icy blue depths...

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THE PIRATE'S SURRENDER by Laura Tolomei

THE PIRATE'S SURRENDER by Laura Tolomei

Book 2 - Be sure to catch the seductive prequel To Seduce A Soulmate Book 1

The pirate v/s the devil: how far can seduction go?

All right, so he did it! Marin seduced me. And the sex is fantastic, blows my mind every time, no complaints there, if that thing about being his soul-mate didn’t still bug me.

Yet there seems no way around it except...but can I do it? Do I want to do it? No, I don’t know if I’m ready to surrender. Me, the pirate, and to the blond devil, no less…talk about fucked up destiny!

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~Excerpt~

“Would this qualify as my Christmas present?”

“Not entirely.” Back, Martin slipped between the sheets, pressing to him again. “What you got last night was only a…first installment.” His warm palms cuddling his twitching piece had a long experience. Never one to choose between genders, the Irishman had done his time with both, enjoying them for their differences as much as their similarities. And he was not just an expert on cocks. He loved them in whatever shape or form they came, knowing their most intimate desires and providing the comfort they needed. Like now, for instance, slipping below the covers to close his hungry mouth around the bulging head, then sliding his lips to the balls and sucking it practically to the throat. The swallowing effect drove Drake crazy, which had also been his undoing in his parents’ house on Lake Lanier.

Unusual, completely unexpected and unprecedented to come so quickly and without any restraint in a stranger’s mouth, for such had been Martin at the time. Women rarely, if ever, had the privilege to drink his sperm. They never seemed to hit the right spot on his sophisticated dick that did not surrender easily to a vigorous lapping, however practiced the tongue. But Martin had set a different standard from the start, bypassing all Drake’s mechanisms and sucked him dry the first time around. Now it seemed no different.

Swinging his hips forward, he made Martin take more, past the tongue’s blocking to reach the plunge, if a tight curl had not stopped him. Just a temporary setback, though, to allow for a gulp of air before the cheeks pressed again on all sides, while the hands took firmer control of the situation. God, he had a wonderful touch. Strong, forceful yet not hurried, it adapted to the pirate’s rhythm until it was too late to contain the tide. Holding the blond head to screw it deeper, Drake shoved one last time and everything spilled out, soul included, in the warm cavity opening wider to receive it all.

Evidently unsatisfied, Martin did not let go of his prize, which explained why it did not go limp, remaining stiff and ready for more action. Despite their limited sexual activity, the pirate already knew how insatiable the devil was and how irresistible his urgings were. And it could definitely become a problem. Already Drake could not get enough of him, whether down his throat or up his ass, Martin’s mastery over his dick was something unique and seldom experienced before, like coming with a blowjob. To Martin, cocks had no secrets, none he had not discovered and put to good use, with the pirate in particular, judging from the healthy erection rising so fast after an explosive climax.

“Just love them when they’re hard.” Coming out from underneath the covers, the devil kept jerking him.

“So they can stick better in your ass.” Chuckling, Drake toppled him, pressing his stomach down on the mattress.

“Can’t wait to get it as a matter of fact.” Raising his behind, the blond Irishman captured the tip of the erection in his cleft.

“Just open wide,” Drake teased, poking the tight entrance. Knowing Martin, he would not need too much of a preparation, his ass always ready to receive thick pieces. The bulging head was drenched enough anyway, to have no problems breaking through and sliding up the cramped passageway Mother Nature provided.

Hell! Simply fucking delicious. The back end was Drake’s favorite also with women, so at least that had not required too many adjustments. Maybe what he still had to figure out was how to handle life with a man, a prospect he really did not feel ready to face. Martin did not seem to have much experience in that department either, considering he was coming from a failed marriage.

“Fuck! You sure know how to screw an ass.” Moving seductively beneath him, Martin raised his hips to get more inside, something Drake had no trouble delivering. “And to think I had to wait an entire month to get it.”

“Not many resist you, eh, Devil?” It was not a question, merely a statement. Martin’s allure was undeniable. Drake, too, had been fascinated upon first seeing him, but it could have ended there had that disturbing feeling not kicked in to change everything forever.

“No, Pirate, practically no one resisted in my entire life.” Swinging faster, he accelerated the tempo. “Particularly not after one of my great blowjobs ever.”

“So I’m a little slow.” Long hair brushing Martin’s shoulders, Drake went along, stepping up the shoves to ram the narrow hole to a pulp.

There was a moment’s silence on Martin’s part that Drake used to penetrate to his balls and pump with greater force. Then the blond Irishman moved in such a way the pirate had to pull back and allow him more leeway. When it became clear the man wanted to change position, Drake reluctantly left the snug confinement for the time it took Martin to lie on his back. After the change, it was only a matter of seconds to slam back in his ass, legs cradled to Drake’s chest.

“No, Pirate, you’re anything but slow.” Now the devil caught his face between his palms. “Your only problem is that you’re scared shitless.”

And he was right, too. “Oh, come off it!” Shoving harder on purpose, Drake tried not to think of it. “No way am I going to be scared of a great ass like yours.” Maybe humor worked better. And fucking was having its results, too. The deeper he sank, the more pressing his need to come again and forget about everything.

“You know what I mean.” Arching his back, Martin brought the dick all the way inside with a suddenness that cut off Drake’s breath…or rather the little still left after the devil pulled him down for an avid kiss, which blew the pirate’s mind to outer space.

Martin’s tongue pushed down his throat, wrapping around his when it did not have to battle it for supremacy. An exciting addition for sure and had Drake’s shaft not been stuck in Martin’s butt, it might not have had any consequences. Instead, the two effects combined the second the ass squeeze became irresistible, the fleshy walls cramming it on every side. On top of it, his pounding was jerking off Martin’s dick, caught between their bellies, until everything spiraled to the point he felt the wetness on his stomach before he realized the devil was coming. So he let it go, plunging with a muffled groan into Martin and bursting.

“You’ll see how much better it can get once you accept it, too.” Martin’s voice breathed in his ear as he cuddled his head to his chest.

Right! He had almost forgotten the goddamn catch.

“Our connection, I mean.”

He was his fucking soul-mate, for Christ’s sake, and there seemed no way around it either.

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