HOT AT LAST by Cheryl Dragon

HOT AT LAST by Cheryl Dragon

All Male Nudes! Series, Book Five

For two decades, Ken and Avery have worked together at the Big D. Dishing out zingers and sparking each other over and over. Their past relationship blew up and replaced with a cautious friendship because neither could or would leave.

When Ken takes a fall off the stage and needs some help, Avery takes him in. There’s no avoiding the chemistry, attraction, and unfinished business now. Sorting through their dirty laundry and ancient history, neither wants to face heartbreak again but friends-with-benefits simply won’t work.

With these two, it’s true love or leave the Big D forever.

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Excerpt:

“Ken is going all out,” Bev said as she pointed to the stage.

Avery turned his head, and indeed, Ken was in rare form. Normally, he hung in the back with a big group performance. He kept an eye on the other men and whipped them into shape at the next rehearsal if they’d been sloppy on stage.

Still, Ken had cut down his solo dances to one a night. All of his actions lately signaled he saw the writing on the wall. Avery silently scolded himself for nagging Ken today. Pushing his buttons only made him rebel. But silence riled up Ken as well.

“Just when I thought he was figuring out he’s not a kid anymore.” Avery took a bite of his piece of cake.

“He’s a dreamer. He’ll slow down, but it’s a shame his prince never showed up.” Bev smiled innocently.

Avery shot her a look. “He’s an adult. We all are. And this is America. If he wants a prince, he should’ve moved to Europe years ago.”

“So literal. We are who we are. I’m a business woman. Always have been. You got into stripping for the money. You never loved it the way he does. He lives for the attention and validation.” Bev shrugged.

“I know. He’s more than looks, though.” Avery had spent a year being the adult in their relationship. Adoring Ken and dealing with his need for more. He’d stroked that ego day-after-day.

“We both know that. He doesn’t understand his value off-stage because no one applauds when he does other things. He’ll never see his real value. It’s a shame.” Bev watched the show.

“He still has plenty of admirers.” Avery wanted to pour himself a stiff drink when he watched a big bear in leather shove a tip in Ken’s glittering briefs. The bulky fan leaned way over and rubbed Ken’s thigh.

Avery had buried his jealousy long ago. Drunken customers were a daily trial, but the splash of beer from the fan’s bottle caught the bartender’s eye. “We need to clean up that stage.”

“Let them finish. I’m sure Ken saw it,” Bev said.

Ken leaned over to give the bear a kiss on the cheek and slipped on the liquid. He didn’t fall on the stage but off it, hitting the side as he went.

“Shit!” Avery muttered.

He and Bev watched, expecting Ken to pop back up and take a bow. The waiting was agony. When Ken didn’t turn up and instead a couple experienced dancers hopped of the stage then waved for a bouncer, Avery knew it wasn’t good. The DJ announced a quick break to clean things up and invited the patrons to enjoy lap dances and refill their drinks.

“Go check on him,” Bev said.

“Me?” Avery asked. “He’ll listen to you.”

Bev shook her head. “I’ll cover the bar. Go check on him.”

Avery headed backstage and found Ken pacing and cursing. “That idiot!”

“Relax, it’s not the first time someone spilled or fell on stage.” Avery noticed Ken cradling his right arm. Everything else seemed just fine on him, but his shoulder looked weird.

“Off. I fell off the stage,” Ken informed Avery. “I’m okay.”

“Except for that arm. I think it’s dislocated,” a bouncer said.

Avery saw the pain Ken was hiding. He’d had plenty of dancing injuries. Twisted ankles, knees and a thrown-out back. When they’d dated, Avery hadn’t minded nursing him. This time, Ken was in real pain.

“I’ll be fine. Probably badly bruised and sprained, that’s all.” Ken tried to downplay it. “Go on! Get back out there! Do your jobs. We’re not all injured.”

The bouncer and other dancers ran back out front. Ken’s hissy fits were second only to Bev’s. If Bev yelled, everyone worried. Avery knew that’s why she’d sent him. She’d be yelling at Ken, and things would spin in a bad direction.

As soon as they were alone, Ken’s calm face cracked. “Fuck this hurts!”

“Let’s go to the ER.” Avery grabbed Ken’s duffle and pulled out his jeans.

“No, I’m not going. It’ll be fine. Just twisted.” Ken shook his head.

Avery put his finger into Ken’s limp right hand. “Squeeze my finger.”

“It’s a pinched nerve or swollen joint. It’ll go down with some icing overnight,” Ken argued.

“We’re going. Want me to get Bev in here? File it as workman’s comp?” Avery threatened as he held Ken’s pants open.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes.” Ken stepped into the jeans.

Avery pulled them up and closed the fly. It’d been a long time since he’d been this close to Ken. The smell of his old lover, the perfect muscles and the good memories flooded Avery’s mind. No one else made him feel this way, but they didn’t need to reignite anything. It’d taken so long to find balance and friendship.

“Want to try a shirt?” Avery asked.

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HOT NEW BOSS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT NEW BOSS by Cheryl Dragon

All Male Nudes! Series, Book Two

Carl D’Agostino was raised not to believe in dreams or taking risks, still he can’t ignore the desire to be his own boss. Running Big D’s strip club for his aunt is a start, but he can’t resist the chance to get closer to the hottest dancer at the club.

Hunter Campbell juggles various bookkeeping jobs for small gay-owned businesses while stripping to avoid being burned by the corporate grind again. He knows better than to play with the boss, but under the cover of a bet, he seduces Carl. The quiet and professional guy is full of secrets and loves rough sex at the hands of muscle bound Hunter.

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Excerpt:

 

Some believed doing business with family was a mistake, but Carl D’Agostino needed someone he could trust. He stood alone on the still dark side of Big D’s Strip Club in Las Vegas, Nevada. Both sides were fairly identical and kept insanely clean due to his Aunt Bev’s high standards.

Aunt Bev was the most successful member of Carl’s family, at least in his opinion. She’d made her club a destination in a city that had plenty of sex and shows for sale. He’d asked her for the start up loan because he admired her. If she approved of the business plan, he’d feel even more confident about it.

But instead of interest on the loan or part ownership in his business, she’d asked for him to prove himself. At thirty, he’d managed plenty of small night clubs around Vegas. Wanting to start his own club wasn’t so crazy. Unfortunately, his investments had gone bust back when everyone else’s had. He’d been in for high returns, which had meant high risks. He’d pulled out of the stocks before he’d lost it all at only thirty-one-years-old. His investment hadn’t been long-term dollars for retirement. It had been his startup capital.

He’d gambled and lost. Now, he’d manage the strip club for Bev while she was up in Reno working on her deal for a second location with a couple of her best dancers. That meant the club was minus the two top draws, but not the guy Carl had always stared at whenever he’d stopped in to see Bev.

Hunter Campbell stood out because he had real muscle, but it wasn’t grossly overdone. Still, he always drew the caveman routine and bodybuilder acts because of his form. His dark brown hair and piercing green eyes made Carl stare every time he saw Hunter. He had to ignore the part of him that saw something deeper in Hunter’s eyes. Now, he might have to talk to the tanned hunk. Carl wanted to focus on his career, not flings.

The lights snapped on, and Carl turned. Avery, the older African American bartender, waved. Carl knew Avery used to dance, but according to Bev, he’d keep an excellent eye on the men’s side. The bartender on the women’s side was equally good so Carl could float and supervise.

“You can relax. The guys know what they’re doing,” Avery said.

Carl nodded. “I know, but I want to show my aunt I can handle it. Maybe have an idea or two.”

“Ideas are good. The schedule is pretty much set though. It’s only for a couple weeks.” Avery shrugged.

“I know. I won’t get in the way of the normal stuff. Still, a fresh set of eyes never hurt.” Carl knew they didn’t need him. Avery had been here for years, and so had another dancer named Ken, who strutted around as if he were now in charge. The day-to-day stuff would be fine in their hands, and Carl didn’t want to step on any toes. They didn’t understand why Bev had bothered to bring in Carl, but Carl did. It was a test.

“No, nothing wrong with a new perspective, but Bev knows what she’s doing. Rehearsal starts in half an hour. New act ideas are always welcome. She likes to keep the routines fresh. Not sure what you know about dancing or performing, but if you’re trying to impress Bev, start there.” Avery nodded.

Carl smiled. “Thanks.” He was used to people underestimating him. No one would put him on stage. A regular guy who was too tall and on the skinny side, Carl wasn’t turning down tons of dates. He was smart, but unlike his parents, a routine corporate job couldn’t satisfy him. His mom and dad talked about Aunt Bev as if she were the black sheep and crazy. While Carl wouldn’t dance on stage naked, he admired her for wanting more than working for others.

She owned this place and was expanding to a second location. It was a huge responsibility and risk…and that was something his parents hated. Since business school, Carl had been learning about the real world and had been burned. Part of him wondered how bad it would be to get a middle management job in some casino or other business. He could take up rock climbing for an adrenaline rush.

In the end, he’d never last. He wanted to be the boss, the owner who’d profit from the risk and hard work. Aunt Bev was giving him a shot, and he couldn’t screw it up. He’d manage the club and keep things steady, but if he wanted that money, he knew he’d have to show her something worth investing in.

* * * *

Hunter spotted their temporary boss exiting Bev’s office and went back around the women’s side, so Carl didn’t see him. The cash bag and receipts were dropped off, and it was rehearsal time. Carl had been the subject of a ton of talk by the dancers.

In the rehearsal studio, Hunter changed into comfortable shorts and a T-Shirt. Stretching, he blended in with the other men. Ken led a familiar routine and put the newer dancers into a loop until they were flawless.

Ken walked over to Hunter and smiled. “Seems the new boss will let us do our jobs in peace.”

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Peter piped up from Hunter’s other side.

Hunter kept quiet as they finished the stretches. Peter was a ballet veteran who could out bend and dance anyone. Peter was hard to impress and not a big fan of new blood.

“Bev wants family in charge. We won’t let her down,” Ken said.

“The guy is in the club. I don’t think he’s a total slacker.” Hunter kept the books, so he found himself alone with Bev at various times. He’d heard a lot about Carl from Bev. She loved her nephew and believed in him. Too bad, his family had doubts that they’d infused in the man. Hunter had never admitted an attraction to Carl, but then again, he and Carl had never even spoken. After all Bev’s chatter, Hunter felt as if he knew the new boss.

“He better not try to change everything.” Peter sighed.

Ken nodded. “We’re a well-oiled machine. Hunter, you’ll be on every night since we’re short two dancers.”

“Fine.” Hunter normally was a part-time dancer. He did the books here, as well as for a few other small local businesses. Dancing fulltime would mess up his schedule a bit, but more cash tips weren’t bad since tax season hadn’t ramped up yet. The guys he did taxes for were the last minute types, but he’d earn a lot of cash from those late nights as well.

He’d been laid off in the downturn. Vegas had taken a serious beating all around, and the recovery had been slow. Small gay owned businesses and stripping had saved him. The rush he felt on stage beat any boring day job. Now, going back to the grind of a day job seemed foolish. All your eggs in one company’s basket meant at any time they could toss you out…splat!

Now, he had multiple bookkeeping clients and the stripping thing. It wasn’t perfect, but if one business closed, another opened. He had more connections and options now.

Ken called for the dancers to work on their own acts. The guys broke up into groups and rehearsal went on as normal. After Ken gave some of the newer guys a few pointers, he walked back over to Hunter.

“I wonder why Carl isn’t in here,” Ken said.

“Maybe he’s not gay?” Peter shrugged.

“Why does that matter?” Ken replied.

Hunter chuckled at how Ken pinched his lips together and studied all the performers. Ken was a great dancer and a perfectionist. He seemed content to dance forever. Hunter respected his dedication since Ken was no young hot stud. The guys called him the Silver Fox behind his back because his blond hair was slowly silvering. There was no debate that Ken’s body was still good.

“Not every dancer is gay. We give the customers what they want to look at. If Carl can’t handle naked men, he’s not doing his aunt any favors.” Ken tapped his toe to the music.

“That’s true. Think he’s gay?” Peter asked.

Ken inhaled and pouted. “No. If he liked it, he’d come around and help his aunt all the time. She’s not a prude. He’d get comped at the bar and the door. Why wouldn’t he bring friends in and stir up business for his aunt? She’d be flaunting her gay nephew all over the men’s side, especially for pride events.”

Peter nodded. “Probably.”

Hunter understood Ken’s assessment, but part of him hoped for better things. Just as Carl stepped into the room, the attraction hit Hunter hard, and he blurted out, “No, he’s gay. I’d bet on it.”

The look in Carl’s brown eyes made Hunter sure of it. The guy was cute and sexy. Tall and lean, he had curly black hair and a shy smile. His clothes didn’t show off his body, and his shoulders slumped as if he didn’t want to be noticed for being so tall. Not a huge flirt and not movie star handsome, Carl could be overlooked by plenty of men. Hunter liked diamonds in the rough.

“Bet? How do we prove that?” Ken asked.

“I think Hunter wants to find out for himself,” Peter said.

Ken folded his arms. “Well, he’ll have to prove it if he wants to collect on an actual wager.”

“Terms?” Hunter knew Ken loved a good wager to keep things entertaining around the strip club.

“Five hundred cash. You have two weeks while Bev is out of town to find out if he’s gay,” Ken said.

“How can you prove that without getting graphic?” Peter smirked.

Hunter cleared his throat as Carl wandered closer. “I’m not taking any bedroom pics. A kiss should do it. A long, serious kiss here, witnessed by Ken.”

Ken nodded. “Fine, we’re just after sexuality confirmation. I don’t care if you score. But you can’t pin him down and force the make out session.”

“Please, Carl and Bev would fire him for that. She’s tough on sexual harassment,” Peter said.

“I’m not going to push myself on a straight guy anyway. Peter, you’re the witness?” Hunter held out a hand.

“Sure,” Peter replied.

“It’s a bet.” Ken shook Hunter’s hand. “Two weeks.”

“It probably won’t even take one.” Hunter smiled at Carl. One week for a kiss, no problem. If Hunter had his way, he’d soon have a lot more. The bet was just the cover he needed so the other dancers didn’t freak out when he made a play for the new boss. Peter had moved on already and was no doubt talking about the latest bet. Gay or straight, men loved to one-up each other. Winning was always good.

Ken shook his head. “You can do better, Hunter.”

“You’re shallow, Ken,” Hunter replied.

“We’re selling sex. It’s the business.” Ken shrugged. “Sexy people sell the fantasy. Whatever you’re up to, I hope you know what you’re doing. Bev loves her family, and if you screw him over in a bad way…job over.”

Carl came over as Ken went back to running the men through the acts they knew so well they needed no coaching. Hunter knew Ken was absolutely right. If he hurt Carl, Bev would be royally pissed. That wasn’t pretty, but deep down, Hunter couldn’t resist the chance.

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HOT RIVALS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT RIVALS by Cheryl Dragon

Jay and Robbie both bare their bodies at the most popular strip club in Vegas.

Pleasing the customer is their main job. However, Jay isn’t going to let the new guy knock him out of the top spot without playing dirty.

Dating another stripper is asking for trouble, but in the end Jay finds himself being seduced by the sexiest cowboy in Vegas!

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Excerpt:

 

Jay Belfer watched his main competition from the corner of his eye. Robbie Sloan was fairly new to the Big D’s strip club. Sexy and friendly, Robbie made it easy to like him. The clients went wild for that cowboy charm. Jay worked hard not to get too close but kept an eye on the new meat. This was a job, and Jay had a lot invested in Big D’s.

Everyone knew the “D” stood for Dicks but the owner insisted it stood for her last name, D’Agostino. She loved well-hung men performing in her club, which was actually two strip clubs sharing one big building. One side for male patrons, the other for female.

The men’s half of the club featured all-the-way performances on stage. All the men—at least those working on the men’s side tonight—stripped down to nothing. On the other side of the building, another group of guys were doing the exact same thing for a screaming crowd of horny women. Jay never got tired of the rush of being on stage, no matter who he entertained.

In this crowd of gay men, he easily spotted the owner, Bev, watching Robbie shake his ass for the crowd. A professional stripper seven years now, Jay kept his eyes on the crowd and connected with the customers. He was still the top draw—for now.

The new guy, Robbie, was hard to resist and two years younger at twenty-five. He was tan with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. The guy came from a rodeo background so he was flexible and rugged, but rumors reported he had zero cash. Not unusual given the type of work he’d fallen into.

As the men’s pants came off, the crowd cheered. Jay gave them a little smile and saw a lot of regulars out there. Down to gauzy briefs that were pretty much see-through, he let the thrill of the crowd and exhibition turn him on. Jay insisted to himself that it wasn’t Robbie’s tight ass or slightly hairy chest getting his dick up. No way!

Bev generally demanded meticulous manscaping, but Robbie’s chest hair wasn’t overly thick and laid flat against his muscled form. She said it gave him added sex appeal and matched his wild western image. Jay glanced over and saw Robbie’s cock growing. Bev liked men to show it all on stage. It set their club apart. One side for women, one for men, but all of the men went nude and got turned on!

Having to show their erection on stage sent many newbie and wannabe strippers running for the hills. Most new guys thought it’d be easy money on their first day, but Bev was tough on her dancers. Performing took practice and work. The group of men turned and ripped off their briefs. Jay looked at Robbie and cursed himself. With his back to the crowd, Jay admiring other men didn’t matter for the show, but he was really getting turned on. This wasn’t just his usual showing-off hard on today.

Turning, they strutted their stuff and fanned out on the stage to display their full potential. The crowd went wild and after a few minutes, the strippers all headed back to the dressing room. Nudity never bothered Jay, and it didn’t last long. He’d done worse things for money.

Dressing for their next rounds, Jay didn’t have to rush. He was in the last group as a featured dancer. Robbie had moved around the lineup and was growing in popularity. Of course, tonight, he grabbed the chair next to Jay.

“Great crowd.” Robbie closed his jeans then tugged on a long-sleeved shirt.

“They’re good.” Jay noticed Robbie’s cock was still firm in the jeans.

His own member wasn’t relaxing as fast as it normally did. Damn attraction. He always wanted the wrong men! Robbie wasn’t a bad guy, at least not that Jay had found out, but he was the main competition.

Robbie layered a vest and a worn leather jacket atop his shirt. When he bent over to tug on his cowboy boots, Jay forced himself not to imagine Robbie blowing Jay’s cock there in a room full of mostly naked men. No other stripper had turned Jay on so much without even making a pass at him.

“You okay? You looked lost,” Robbie said.

“Fine. Just some stuff on my mind. On stage, I can blank it out, but I don’t go on for a while.”

“I’m up now. See you later.” Robbie smiled wide and dashed for the stage.

Bev liked the contrast of going all nude at first then having men layer on the costumes and show off their individual appeal. The first dance with all the men let customers check them out. Whatever tips came in were split equally from that. From now until the finale, it was one to three guys on the stage performing.

Jay refused to get up and watch Robbie from backstage, no matter how much his cock twitched. Luckily, another dancer came over and sat next to Jay. Any distraction was welcome and Ken had been around Big D’s a lot longer.

“Hot guy. He’s got a crush on you,” Ken teased.

“He’s got a story.” Jay didn’t like competition, but no one could be on top forever. He’d unseated Ken as the top dog a few years back. Ken was blond with dark brown eyes and a swimmer’s body that made women drool. But at forty, he was a veteran. Women and men still loved him, but he wasn’t the new flavor anymore. Jay felt the tug of knowing he wasn’t new, either. Hopefully, he’d handle losing the top spot someday as well as Ken had. He hadn’t iced out Jay, and Ken certainly hadn’t given up.

“We’ve all got a story. I heard his family is in rodeo. They found out he liked dick and tossed him.” Ken adjusted his tie. His tuxedo costume was perfect for him. Classy, sassy, and let him show off his dancing skills at a slower tempo without screaming that he was the older guy here.

“There are gay rodeo riders. Tons of them. I’ve dated a few.” Jay had heard so many sob stories from new strippers that he’d turned a little jaded. Maybe he wanted to find fault with Robbie as an excuse to deny the attraction.

“I guess his family had money, and it was all wrapped up in their show or whatever. So he was out with nothing. He’s hot and can move, though. Bev can pick them.” Ken looked at Jay in the mirror. “You’re really not interested?”

“No, I’m not taking a new guy in and making it easy on him. As soon as he gets his footing, he’d dump me for someone else. Those types always want a nice guy to save them and then run off with a bad boy who’ll hurt them. I’m not into rebound relationships or dealing with someone else’s drama.” Jay didn’t have to spell it out for Ken. Some of the men in the profession were complete users and anyone would do. “Of course, he’s good, Bev doesn’t hire crap dancers.”

Jay made it through his rough years because Bev and one of his Aunt’s up in Reno had looked out for him. Bev had no reason to help thus she had his eternal loyalty and respect. A former Vegas showgirl who’d gone topless on stage and did all sorts of things in hotel rooms, Bev understood the tricks of survival and strength. Now pushing sixty, she helped young men without judging and used her experience to put on a show she swore would run forever!

“Don’t get bitter. You’re not even thirty. Romantics.” Ken chuckled.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them.” Jay listened for the music. Shit! He suddenly realized he’d been waiting for Robbie to hustle his nearly naked body back here.

“You are. Sure, you hook up with guys. Date. But the second a relationship goes south or something bad happens, you bail. You want the perfect Happy Ending. Maybe this Robbie is the one?” Ken brushed off his jacket.

Chuckling, Jay ignored a tug of need in his gut. He wanted more than sex, but that wasn’t the world he lived in. “He’s the competition not the boyfriend. You should worry about finding yourself a man to settle down with. You’re old enough to have fathered some of these guys.”

“If I ever screwed a girl, may rattlesnakes strike my dick. Why would I want to settle down?” Ken stood and headed to the stage as the announcer took over.

Jay smiled but didn’t believe for a second Ken liked being alone. Neither of them had ever been with a woman, but it didn’t change the fact that age happened to everyone. In the end, no one really wanted to be alone. He wanted to see Ken find the right guy. It’d give Jay hope. Just then, Robbie strutted back, his tight g-string filled with money. All Jay saw were Robbie’s firm buns.


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FOUR BIKERS & A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

FOUR BIKERS & A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

Warrior's Craft Book Three

Valerie grew up in the Vegas biker culture, seeing the tempting and dark side. Now a nurse, she can't escape her past. Axle and Rebel Herth were kicked out of the biker gang as teens and, along with their boyfriends, run a motorcycle shop. They've wanted Val for years, but she won't date anyone in the biker world.

They need her witch talents to help them fight the zombies that are plaguing Vegas. Val's best with potions but the sex spell intrigues her. She learns the ropes of fighting zombies, and rides motorcycles like a pro as her potion brews, but can she let her sexual guard down with the guys?
Rough sex and dirty talk with four men who can easily overpower her is a huge turn on! How far will she go now that she's hooked on these bikers fighting for good?

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Four Bikers & A Witch
Cheryl Dragon
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Cheryl Dragon

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.

Valerie Berman parked her scarlet red Harley Super Glide behind Herth's Repair Shop. Grabbing her bag from the bitch seat, she once again tried to change her automatic thinking. So much of the biker culture put women second or third after their bike... yet she couldn't escape it.  Going in the back door, she found her parents in the inventory area. As usual, Dad was bleeding. Looking at him with his long gray hair and tattoos, he was an old biker and Mom, with her ink and tight clothes, a biker's old lady. Valerie rolled her eyes. She should be rebelling. Of course, with her parents, having a job and being responsible was a rebellion.  "Seriously, you need to retire from this crap." Val opened her bag and cleaned the cut on his arm.  "Val, your father was defending me. Some drunken ass grabbed my boobs." Mom smiled.  Shaking her head, Val pressed gauze to the wound so it'd stop bleeding. Mom loved the attention and it invited danger. Some of the bikers shared women. Female groupies were one thing, but wives? Some men didn't care. The wrong signals could cause a major fight. At least Dad had protected her. A girl growing up in a biker gang was vulnerable, but she'd made it out safely.  "Is this the only injury?" Val asked.  Dad nodded. "A few bruises, but yeah. My bike is messed up but the boys will fix it."  Axle Herth walked up from the direction of the repair room. "Everything okay?"  Val ignored the shot of attraction she felt whenever one of the Herth brothers came around. They'd grown up in the same gang until they were kicked out as teens. They hadn't gone far.  She shook her head. "He should get stitches."  "You do it." Mom waved it off.  "I'm a nurse, not a doctor." Working in the ER gave Val a sense of satisfaction and adrenaline rushes. She might've gone on for more education, but she didn't want that much in student loans.  "Just patch me up." Dad never minded an ugly scar.  Val dug through her bag of medical necessities. The bikers who knew her never went to the doctor. They only landed in the ER if they were scooped up by an ambulance, or Val couldn't patch them up. This was her unofficial office.  You never really left the biker world. Val would rather have them owe her favors than the other way around.  "Mom, hold these. Axle, I need you to help." Val could've done it herself. Still, it'd be cleaner with more hands. Plus the smell of grease and a hot man made the trip worth it. Axle pinched the skin tight as Val guided his rough hands. She added as many sterile strips as she could to hold the skin together. Then she covered the whole thing with a bandage. "I'll come by next week and change the strips. Don't get it wet."  "He's got to shower." Mom scrunched her nose.  "Put plastic over it, like a new tattoo." Val shrugged and closed her bag. "Don't drink either. If you need something for pain, take a pill."  "Got it." Dad's response to anything, which meant he understood. That didn't mean he'd actually listen.  "I'm serious. Take it easy too. How did you get cut and crash your bike defending Mom? Sounds like a bar fight." Val wasn't sure she wanted to know.  "Jousting," Axle said.  "Motorcycle jousting? Men." She tried not to stare at Axle's big muscles, teasing her from under the Herth's Repair Shop t-shirt. His black hair was cropped short, but those brown eyes of his had depth she'd always wanted to unlock.  She'd love to explore both of the Herth brothers. Rebel was only a year younger and looked very similar to Axle. However, his eyes were an icy blue. Now both had boyfriends who worked at the shop with them. If they weren't bikers and gay, she'd make a move. They'd been her adolescent crush. Liking bad boys had to be in her DNA.  Mom fussed over Dad, pressing her curves, stuffed into a leather skirt and halter top, to his side. At twenty-six, Val could wear that and look good, if a bit slutty. Sighing, Val knew her mom looked good for nearly fifty, except for the sun damaged skin. Dad still thought she was the hottest piece of ass on the planet.  "Men." Mom hugged her man. "No reason you don't have one, Valerie Trixie Berman. You've got my gorgeous red hair and curves. A little sun and those green eyes would pop."  "I just burn and freckle. I got Grandma's skin." She avoided Axle's eyes.  "Four hot men right here. They're not in a gang but they fix bikes. It's something." Mom gestured to Axle.  "Let's go. We'll get a loaner bike from Rebel." Dad steered Mom to the front. He knew why Axle was kicked out of the gang. A lot of things were kept secret, men from women and so on. Val had found out from the gang leader's wife only because Axle and Rebel had been getting some lessons from her as well.  Mom frowned at Val. "You couldn't dress nice, at least? You look like you're an old lady in that potato sack."  "They're scrubs, Mom. I came from work." They'd had that conversation more times than Val could count. Mom thought Val could wear short shorts and tight tank tops to work.  Once her parents were gone, Val turned to Axle. "I'm so sorry about them. They're nuts."  "Don't apologize. We deal with serious bikers all the time." Axle put a hand on her back.  Val shivered. She tried not to think about Axle naked. "Thanks for keeping them out of trouble. I should go home. Let you guys get back to business."  "Actually, would you hang out a while? We need a favor. We'll buy you dinner. We're ordering Chinese." Axle smiled.  "Okay, sure." Val shrugged.  Smoothing her hair as she walked into the repair shop, she looked at all four very attractive guys. Val knew this wasn't about motorcycles. Axle and Rebel were clearly brothers and sexy as hell. Sebastian was Axle's guy, seriously into vintage bikes. His lean build and dirty blond hair made him stand out. The quietest of the group, he just nodded to her with a big smile.  Luke was the opposite of Sebastian. Brown hair and piercing green eyes, he'd grown up in another biker gang. The guy had a huge ego and no shame. His look slanted to a bit more brutish than handsome. His confidence enhanced it.  "What do you want?" Rebel waved the menu.  "Orange chicken." Val sat on a stool next to Sebastian around an empty repair table. Rebel sent the order on his phone and nodded. "It'll be here soon. Sorry about your dad."  Val shrugged. "Idiots jousting on motorcycles. He's not a kid anymore."  "Well, we've got experience fighting on bikes. Sometimes it's necessary." Luke tossed a shirt and shorts on the table.  "What's that?" she asked.  "Just in case you want to change into something less clinical. The meeting could take a little time." Rebel nudged the clothes closer to Val. "If you don't like those, grab anything off the racks you want. The scrubs look hot."  "Vegas is hot. The scrubs keep blood and other fluids off me. The fun of being an ER nurse." She grabbed the clothes and went to the ladies room. The shirt was the right size, even though she would have grabbed a size bigger to hide her cleavage. The shorts were denim and made her feel terribly on display. Her long legs were a feature other women envied. Scrubs hid everything well.  Pulling her hair out of the clip that was part of her work wardrobe, she combed her fingers through it to cool off. The curls looped down to her mid-back. Glancing in the mirror, it looked like she was primping to get their attention. Mom would absolutely approve. Tugging her hair into a ponytail, she managed to clip it that way. She looked less severe but not flirty. Her boring old clogs would kill any sexy ideas.  Going back to the guys, she felt something more in their glances. Even out of her heavier clothes, she felt flushed. The smell of food drew her near. "That was super fast."  "You service bikers, you get good service." Rebel smiled and handed her the orange chicken.  "Egg roll?" Axle offered.  "Thanks. So what is all this about? More vampire problems?" She opened her chopsticks. Luke set a diet soda in front of her and Val smiled. It'd been a while since Vegas had had a paranormal invasion.  "No. Something new. These things we can't really handle on our own," Sebastian said.  Val had trouble believing that. Sebastian was good at the pagan stuff. Val, Axle and Rebel had been intrigued by the private classes in Wiccan religion the biker leader's wife had taught them as kids. Back then, they'd had no idea why she'd chosen them. Val kept in touch with her, and now understood it was that woman's way of rebelling. She embraced her feminine powers, and Val tried to follow that path.  Mom and Dad didn't need to know their daughter was a respected witch in the local Wiccan coven. The guys couldn't be seen there and keep their clients. She knew they'd found some online coven. They rarely included her because what they did was dangerous. When the vamps had moved into Vegas, the guys had gone on the attack. They hadn't needed her then. Was this a set up?  "So what can't you guys handle?" she asked.

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RENEE'S HIGH SCHOOL REUNION by Cheryl Dragon

RENEE'S HIGH SCHOOL REUNION by Cheryl Dragon

Nude photos, a prom fistfight, and losing the two men she loved are three good reasons for Renee not to go to her reunion. But Renee always pushed the boundaries.

High school was ten years ago but she's never forgotten AJ, her boyfriend, or Jesse, her gay best friend who was her first lover. Though she's determined to heal the past with two great men, even Renee is shocked when she finds out what has happened since she left Vegas.

AJ and Jesse have plans for her that start with a hot reunion weekend. Menage love is a gamble, but the trio graduated with honors from Las Vegas High!

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~Excerpt~

Staking out the hotel lobby and waiting for Renee made AJ McNamara feel a little like a stalker, but his intentions were good. He stared at Jesse, his lover of ten years, from across the round booth in the bar not far from the hotel lobby. They both needed to catch up with Renee and see what sparked.

The hotel bar buzzed with activity as early arrivals poured in for their high school reunion. Jesse seemed relaxed, but not much got him rattled. The artist had been out in high school and accepted life as it came. AJ’s road had been bumpier.

“We don’t have to try this,” Jesse said.

AJ smiled. Jesse sensed the unease. “It’s not about the threesome. We can try it, see if she’s into it. Maybe we’re too focused on the idea?”

Jesse nodded. “We’ve been kicking it around for a few years now. Can’t hurt to see, but we’ve only ever agreed on Renee. I know I get ahead of myself. Maybe I played on your bisexual side too much. We both want her, but it’s been awhile. Of course, reunions are stressful without love and sex games behind the scenes. Everyone is judging everyone else’s lives. In high school, I thought I’d be a famous artist and photographer by now.”

“You will.”

Jesse was a dreamer, and AJ loved that about him. Always positive and fearless.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get our hopes up that it’ll develop into anything. A weekend of fun is good. It may not work out to be a relationship,” AJ continued.

“I know. I feel good about it.” Jesse shrugged. “She could always say no.”

AJ had considered the possibility. “Renee was pretty sexually adventurous in high school.”

Jesse smiled. “Another free spirit.”

AJ had to agree. Renee was special. He’d dated her during senior year but had always had his eyes on her. He didn’t really fit in the football and jock world, but he had the skills. He liked cars more, but family pressure had put him in a sports uniform. Being popular felt good. Renee was the type to be comfortable in any situation. No one scared her or was too unpopular for her. Not the Goths, the jocks or the geeks. She was pretty and popular but had never seemed snobby. A hard trick in high school.

Jesse had been one of her best friends back then. The artsy type with his photography. She’d loved to dabble in different worlds. Of course, she’d had a lot of friends in the nerd category, as well. No one bullied someone Renee hung with.

“I can’t believe she’s a pilot. I figured her for an activist of some sort. She always rooted for the underdog.” Jesse had done enough searching to find out she piloted commercial jets and was still single, which had spurred AJ’s mile high club fantasies.

AJ chuckled. “She never could sit still. It’s the perfect job for her.” Renee had eventually brought AJ and Jesse together. When they talked about adding a woman, she was the only choice that they never doubted.

“We should keep it open, a little fun. Just a weekend. Ten years is a long time. If it seems like there’s potential, we can bring it up before she leaves.” AJ nodded.

“Sounds good to me.” Jesse slid his hand over AJ’s underneath the table. “No matter what, we’re not going home alone.”

AJ sighed. “It’s not that. We’re good. It’s the gay thing. No one from high school knows about me.”

“We can leave. Find Renee while she’s in town and offer her the fun without doing the drama of the reunion. The jocks probably won’t roll out the rainbow carpet for you.” Jesse scooted closer to AJ.

The fear of rejection had been there all his life. AJ’s parents and older brother had set the bar high. AJ had never measured up, but he’d tried like hell. Renee was the one person, until Jesse, who’d loved and never judged him. Never pressured or nagged him to be something or someone he truly wasn’t. They both accepted him and everyone for who they were. Everyone is different. That was Renee’s quote in the yearbook.

If Jesse and Renee had the courage to be themselves, AJ couldn’t hide. He was a late bloomer, but he was no chicken. “I’m not leaving. We’re not going to run. Let’s enjoy it.”

Jesse squeezed his knee.

“Renee, over here!” shouted a female voice from the other side of the tall private booth.

AJ started to get up. Jesse held his arm and put a finger to his lips. “Let’s see where this goes,” he whispered.

Jesse had patience. AJ kissed his one and only male lover. It’d taken them time to sort out their bisexuality, but AJ knew he belonged with Jesse, wherever they ended up.


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IN MIND'S EYE by B.A. Tortuga

THE MIND'S EYE by BA Tortuga

Jake likes Vegas, but it gets a little hot when he wins too much at one casino. So Jake has a choice; he can go to the middle of nowhere and try to kill this guy some mob boss wants dead, or he can die himself.

Keye is on vacation and minding his own business when Jake shows up. As a hitman, he thinks it's pretty damned funny that Jake is the man sent to kill him, at least until he starts to figure out what talents Jake has going for him. Can these two band together and stay alive?

Author's Note: This book is dedicated to Frank, the lizard that lives in my bathroom. No. Really. Frank the Bathroom Lizard keeps me young. And screaming.

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EXCERPT:

Keye sat in the back booth, the one on the side of the diner with no restrooms and no windows. He liked to be able to watch folks come and go, to know that he had nowhere to run. Being backed into a corner made him sharper, smarter. An easy escape route made for a lazy Keye.

The people coming in and out were regulars, for the most part, having coffee, saying hi, and eating chili sizes and hash and eggs. Normal. Easy. Good. He approved.

The guy walking toward him wasn't a regular. Keye knew it like he knew that he could crush the man's windpipe with one squeeze. His neck was only so big.

Of course, when said skinny little wild-haired freak sat down, looked at him with one light blue eye, one dark brown one, and said, "I'm supposed to be here to kill you. Weird, huh?" he knew he was absolutely right.

Keye sat back, hands flat on the table, and stared. "You want some coffee?"

"Absolutely." The little guy waved down the waitress, ordered a coffee with a smile, then turned back to him with a bright smile. "So, there's this guy -- Gianni de Marco? You know him? Ugly, broad, lots of nice hair, but way too much pomade? He's in Vegas. He has all my money and he's a big asshole -- wanted to cut my fingers off, what a turd, huh? Anyway, he's hiring people to kill you. Well, blackmailing me to kill you, but I always figure if a guy's willing to blackmail one man, he's willing to hire someone else. It's like a slippery-slope deal. Anyway, I thought about it, because seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money, but if I won it once in Vegas, I can win it a couple three times in Shreveport, and I have the weird feeling that murder would lead to blood and puss and stuff, so no. I decided to warn you instead."

"I think he needs to switch to decaf, honey," Keye told the waitress. She left again, and Keye stared at the guy some more. "De Marco, huh?"

"Uh-huh. He's a fuckmonkey. You're very broad. I was surprised, you know? All I had to work on was this little memory deal and a fuzzy picture like from the TV. All pixelated and shit from the security cameras. I guess that's what the hat was for, though, huh? Hiding your face?"

"Well, I wear a hat occasionally." Hell, he was from Texas. He wore a hat a lot, cowboy or gimme cap, whatever. "What's a fuckmonkey?"

The guy's laugh rang out -- and how it wasn't purely insane, Keye wasn't sure, but it wasn't. "I haven't the foggiest, but it's a great word, isn't it? Fuck. Monkey. Fuckmonkey. It's like asshat, but with more flinging poo."

Lord, have mercy. Some days a man just had to go with what was put in front of him. "So, you're not gonna kill me."

"God, no. That's creepy." The man drank deep from his coffee, then smiled. "I mean, I found you, which is good, I guess, but I'm a tracker, not a hunter. Did you really get that scar on your chin from falling out of a barn? I don't know that I've ever been in a real barn."

Keye kept his face immobile by force of will alone. How the hell did this guy know where he’d gotten his scar? "You been talkin' to my momma or something?"

"She died three years ago. She was..." The guy's nose wrinkled, one long finger sliding on his hand. "Oh, man. Yuck. I'm sorry, that sucks. Bad memory, huh? Let's not go there. That's bad. And you dealt with it all and I'm really glad my name's not Lionel, because you just... you don't like that name at all."

Keye felt his brow furrow, which meant this guy was really something. He didn't know what. His voice came out pretty even, though. "How do you know this shit?"

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