Smutterday - Daddy, Daddy, and Me

As promised, here is a smutty excerpt of Daddy, Daddy and Me.


Daddy, Daddy and Me

When Jeff agreed to be the sperm donor to his best friend Beth, he never expected a tragedy to leave his newborn and three-year-old motherless. Beth’s loss has totally thrown his life into chaos: his lover has left him, his house isn’t anywhere near childproof, and his boss feels the restaurant has been patient enough with Jeff’s time off.

Donny has always known he wanted to work with kids, and he just finished his degree in early childhood education. He didn’t count on the prejudice he’d face as not only a male nanny, but a gay one at that. Job-hunting has been frustrating to say the least, so when he knocks on Jeff’s door and is greeted by the sounds of things breaking and a pair of screaming children, he thinks maybe he can begin this particular interview with a trial by fire.

Becoming the nanny to Jeff’s children might be a dream come true for Danny and exactly what Jeff needs, but are either of them ready to really be a family?

Originally released by other publishers

Buy links:
Kobo
Amazon


Smutty Excerpt:

They settled at the table, next to each other, leaving the door open so they could still hear the kids if they woke up.

Don made happy noises as he ate—he always let Jeff know his cooking was appreciated, even if it was just something simple like a bacon sandwich.

Jeff found himself watching, enjoying Don, who sucked on one of his fingers, licking it clean. Jeff moaned, then buried his face in his sausage.

Don frowned at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” He took a big bite.

Don shrugged and went back to eating, including some more finger licking when he was done demolishing the food and ran his fingers through the leftover syrup on his plate.

Jeff was going to fucking die. He had to go find someone and get laid.

Don looked over and smiled. “Thanks—this was awesome.”

He tried to answer, but his mouth was dry, so he cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”

Don’s gaze lingered, his smile slowly fading as he stared.

“I….” Oh fuck. Oh fuck, he wanted.

“Yeah.” Don licked his lips. “You’re… you’re fucking gorgeous, man.”

“I want to kiss you.” The ache in his belly wasn’t getting better. “It’s a bad fucking idea, but I do.”

Don bit his lower lip. “Oh God. That’s what I want too.”

“We shouldn’t.” He reached out, tugged Don’s lip from his teeth.

“No, we shouldn’t.” Don’s lips surrounded Jeff’s fingertip.

Jeff’s knees got weak. Oh fuck….

Don’s eyelids dropped to half-closed, his teeth scraping along Jeff’s finger before letting go. “Wrong, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” He leaned forward, brought their faces closer together.

“So we shouldn’t do this?” Don’s lips touched his, the gentle kiss sparking brightly.

“No.” He wrapped one hand around Don’s nape and tugged them together. This kiss was less gentle, more about learning if that chemistry was real or merely late-night maple syrup.

Don’s lips parted beneath his, the electricity between them sudden and undeniable. Jeff slipped his tongue into Don’s mouth, the tip touching Don’s before he drew it out and used it to trace the curve of that soft bottom lip.

Don’s groan filled his mouth as a soft hand landed on his shoulder and Don’s fingers curled on his skin. Jeff scooted forward, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue press deeper. Don’s other hand landed on Jeff’s head, gripping his hair as Don opened right up to him.

Fuck. He’d never once have imagined sweet, gentle Don as this… needy, forward man. It was hot as hell, and he met that passion head-on.

Don moved out of his chair, kneeled in front of Jeff, and pressed close as the kisses deepened even further. Oh thank God. Those chairs weren’t going to hold both of them. Jeff wrapped his arms around Don, gathering the slim body close.

He could feel Don’s cock pressing against his belly through their clothes, the heat and hardness confirming what the kisses were telling him. His body was equally as hard, as interested, as desirous.

Don fed him a needy, hungry little noise, body humping against his.

“Want you.” Jeff groaned the word against those soft lips as he reached down, cupped that lovely cock.

“Oh damn.” Don bucked into his touch, the words hardly more than needful whimpers.

Jeff pushed his fingers into the loose sweats Don wore, wrapped his fingers around Don’s erection, and started tugging, yanking in steady, sure pulls.

“Oh God.” Don’s breath stuttered, his whole body going tight for a moment. Then he moaned softly and began to move, pushing into Jeff’s hand.

That was it. Like that. Jeff wanted to feel that.

One hand still wrapped in his hair, the other clinging to his shoulder, Don kept moving, undulating, and filling Jeff’s mouth with gasps and excited moans. Jeff watched every second, drank in the need and hunger on Don’s face. He could…. Damn.

“Oh please. Oh. Soon. Jeff….” The words were breathless.

“You’re okay. Come on. So hot, Don.”

“Fuck!” Don’s eyes went wide, and hot spunk poured over Jeff’s hand.

He mashed their lips together again, this kiss long and slow; the only thing keeping it from being lazy was his need. Don’s hands fumbled at his waist, finding and undoing the ties to his chefs’ whites.

“Oh damn.” He spread, nodded. “Yes, please.”

Don pushed Jeff’s pants down, went for his cock, and got a hand around it. “Oh wow. Can I taste?”

All Jeff could do was groan as his ass lifted from the chair in a restless little thrust. “Uh-huh.”

Don bent over him, tongue flicking out to lick across the tip of his prick.

“Don!” The chair arms squeaked as his hands clenched.

Don’s answer was to wrap hot lips around the head, the suction sudden and oh so good. Jeff’s head fell back, his throat working as he pushed up, fucked Don’s lips. Don took him in, hand at the base of his cock to jack it as Don’s tongue licked and slapped. Jesus, Don was good at that. Too good. Brutally good.

Don kept sucking, kept pulling, making Jeff feel like a million bucks, like he was fucking going to explode. His balls drew up tight, his heart skipping a beat. Don hummed, letting go of Jeff’s cock so he could push all the way into Don’s throat.

That was all it took. Jeff shot hard, thrusting into Don’s mouth. Don swallowed him down, tongue busy making sure Jeff got as much out of this orgasm as humanly possible.

By the time Don’s lips left his cock, he was panting, sweating, boneless in the chair. Don stayed kneeling in front of him, head on his thigh.

“I. Wow. Damn.” His world was spinning.

“Uh-huh.” He could feel Don’s smile against his thigh. “Even your spunk tastes good. Gourmet.”

He blinked, then cracked up, laughing hard, tickled deep down. Don grinned at him and slipped back into his own chair, adjusting himself.

“I… I should make waffles more often.”

Donny’s gaze met his, held it. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah.” Damn. Just… damn.

Donny bit his lower lip, looked like he was going to say something for a moment, but in the end, didn’t.

Jeff reached out, touched Don’s leg. “You okay? I mean, you can talk to me.”

“I, uh….” Don cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to think this is why I took the job.”

“Don, when you took the job, I hadn’t slept in two weeks, and I was insane. No one’s that masochistic.”

That had Don chuckling, clearly relaxing. “It’s not going to make it weird between us, is it? I don’t want things to be weird.”

“We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t. I like you too much to fuck this up.”

Don nodded. “Ditto.” Then Don leaned in again, lips pressing softly against Jeff’s. When Don pulled back, he was smiling, eyes soft, happy.

“You want to”—He blushed, heat rising in his cheeks—“come talk to me while I do dishes?”

“I’d like that. I could even dry.”

Jeff nodded, stood, not able to stop a smile from spreading over his face. “It’s a deal.”

Sean
smut fixes everything

Book Day Wednesday

I was inspired to write Daddy, Daddy and Me by a photo of a child's drawing that I saw and thought would make not only an excellent title, but also excellent cover. When the book moved from one publisher to another, I really wanted to have the same child's drawing, or a similar one and I was very happy with the cover that Alexandria Corva came up with - I especially loved the extra detail of the cover being done in alphabet magnets. Unfortunately I wound up having to ask for my rights back for the book a second time, so now it is self-published. But it still boasts the wonderful cover by Alexandria.

I've just put it back up - it's on Kobo and I will share the Amazon link as soon as they let it drop. I've included a nice long excerpt here, and there will be a smutty excerpt on Saturday!


Daddy, Daddy and Me

When Jeff agreed to be the sperm donor to his best friend Beth, he never expected a tragedy to leave his newborn and three-year-old motherless. Beth’s loss has totally thrown his life into chaos: his lover has left him, his house isn’t anywhere near childproof, and his boss feels the restaurant has been patient enough with Jeff’s time off.

Donny has always known he wanted to work with kids, and he just finished his degree in early childhood education. He didn’t count on the prejudice he’d face as not only a male nanny, but a gay one at that. Job-hunting has been frustrating to say the least, so when he knocks on Jeff’s door and is greeted by the sounds of things breaking and a pair of screaming children, he thinks maybe he can begin this particular interview with a trial by fire.

Becoming the nanny to Jeff’s children might be a dream come true for Danny and exactly what Jeff needs, but are either of them ready to really be a family?

Originally released by other publishers

Buy links:
Kobo
Amazon


Excerpt:

Chapter One 

Donny got off the bus and turned right, like his GPS was telling him to. The address was 3479 Blueberry Lane. Blueberry. He smiled and shook his head. When he’d first seen the ad, he’d thought it was a joke.

It wasn’t, though, and so he was going to give it his best shot. Since graduating with his degree in early childhood care, even his best shot hadn’t been good enough. He was a man, after all.

And a gay one at that.

He’d been interviewed for more jobs than he cared to count, and the only silver lining he could find was that at least he was now an expert at being interviewed.

When he got to 3479 Blueberry Lane, he’d expected it to look like a clone of its neighbors. But it didn’t. This one looked like someone had taken the time to do some planning before it had been built. It was beautiful. He couldn’t see anything in the fenced-off backyard, but the flower beds weren’t quite as neat and tidy as most on the block, and there was a little shovel and a pail sitting in the dirt. Of course, kids would do that to your lawn, leave you with no time to care about what was actually growing in the beds.

He made sure he was all tucked in and that he didn’t have anything stuck in his teeth before he headed up the walk and knocked on the door. There was a bell, but if there were little kids, there was always the chance they were sleeping, and he didn’t figure it would endear him to anyone if he woke the wee ones up.

“Just a second!”

Someone inside screamed, “No! No! No! Daddy Jeff. No!”

Then there was a crash, followed by the wail of an infant.

Good Lord.

He hesitated for no more than half a second before he tried the door; they clearly needed help in there.

A dark-haired little boy came squealing toward him, naked, screaming, covered in what looked like marker, followed closely by a man hopping on one foot, blood dripping from the hand wrapped around the foot in the air. “Robin! Robin, are you okay?”

Wow.

Donny closed the door quickly and went to his knees to catch Robin before the kid could streak by him. “Hey, buddy, slow down there.”

“No baths! No! No!” Bright blue eyes, filled with tears, met his. “I drawed!”

“I can see that. You know what the problem with no baths and using yourself as paper is?” The boy shook his head. “You run out of places to draw too quickly!” Donny looked past Robin to the good-looking, bleeding man and gave him an empathetic smile.

He got an exhausted grin, a mouthed “thank you.”

Robin frowned, chewing his bottom lip. “Daddy Jeff. Want bath. Now!”

“Okay, Robin. Okay. Let me grab your sister.” The man let go of his foot, and blood sprayed. “And a paper towel.”

“I can either get the little girl or help him with his bath, if you want?” Hands-on help would be an excellent way to prove that despite the fact he was a man, he could do the job and do it well.

“I-I don’t even know you. You—”

The baby started screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Watch the glass. The bathroom’s this way.”

“I’m Donald Gleason. I’m your three o’clock nanny interview.” He lifted Robin up over the glass as he followed Daddy Jeff down the hall.

“Jeff Roberts.” Jeff pulled a huge piece of glass from his foot. “Oh, better.”

God, blood was getting everywhere.

“Sit,” Donny ordered when they got to the bathroom. It wouldn’t kill the little one to cry for another moment as her father got his foot wrapped.

“I need to get Kimberley.”

“Daddy Jeff, you got blood everywhere,” Robin said, eyes wide.

The man sighed. “Yes, Robin, I know.”

“Sit and let me doctor that,” Donny said. “You’re not going to calm her down if you’re flustered.” He grabbed a washcloth, ran it under the water, and then wrung it out. He handed it to Robin. “I’ve got a really important job for you—can you hold this against Daddy Jeff’s foot while I find a Band-Aid?”

“I can. I’m big.” Robin beamed, bounced over, and placed the cloth on Jeff’s foot.

“The Band-Aids are in the medicine cabinet. There’s a lock thing. On the top.” Jeff sounded utterly wiped.

Donny got the child lock undone and found the gauze and the Band-Aids, then grabbed them and handed them over to Daddy Jeff. Jeff. He relocked the cabinet. “Just keep holding that there, Robin. I’m going to get your sister.”

He heard Jeff telling him he didn’t have to, but he followed the wails upstairs into a little room, half-painted, half-decorated, with the most beautiful, tiny, dark-haired baby in a crib, screaming her head off and kicking furiously.

“Well, hello there, beautiful.” He picked her up and leaned her against his shoulder, bouncing her a little. “Don’t you have a good pair of lungs?”

She hiccupped, sobbed a little, her baby head bobbing.

“Aw, sweetie, it’s okay. Things just got a little busy, that’s all. You weren’t forgotten, I swear.” He kept crooning to her, bouncing her as he headed back down the stairs toward the bathroom.

The bath water was running, Robin lecturing his father about temperature very firmly. “You have to make it right. Mommy says not too hot.”

“I won’t make it too hot, Robin.”

Donny hid his grin in the little girl’s hair. “Looks like things are almost under control here.”

“Yes. Let me get him clean and get her changed. I….” Tired blue eyes met his. “I fell asleep.”

“Hey, man, it happens. That’s why you’re advertising for a nanny, right? I’ll change her, and then you can hold her while I doctor your foot. Then we’ll get Robin de-markered. In the meantime”—he turned to Robin—“why don’t you get in and see how much water that tugboat can take on before it sinks?”

“Boats! Daddy Jeff taked me on a boat!” Robin splashed into the tub and almost fell, but Jeff caught him before he went down.

“Nice save.” Donny chuckled and set the little girl on the changing table in the corner, making quick work of her diaper. “What’s this beauty’s name again?” It was something with a K, he thought.

“Kimberley.”

Jeff stood and limped to the linen cupboard to retrieve a fresh washcloth. The bathroom was well-appointed, fancy and fabulous and marble, and incredibly not kid friendly. All that marble would be hell on falls and bumps. While there was a lock on the medicine cabinet, there wasn’t one on the toilet.

“What a lovely name for a lovely girl.”

He took the washcloth when Jeff gave it to him and cleaned her up, got a new diaper on her. “Sit back down, man, and I’ll give her to you, get that foot checked out. And Robin can tell me all about this boat you took him on.”

Robin was laughing and splashing, making a mess and generally ignoring him, which worked too.

Jeff sat on the toilet, held his hands out for the baby. God, the kids looked just like him, both of them.

Donny handed Kimberley over and kept half an eye on Robin while he took a look at Jeff’s foot; as long as Robin was making noise, he knew the kid was okay.

“This looks pretty deep. You should probably keep off it.”

“Yeah. He broke a lamp, and it just shattered.”

“You probably don’t need stitches or anything, though.” He smiled at Jeff. The man was good-looking.

“I don’t. It’ll heal. It has to—I have to work tomorrow.”

Donny decided the gauze would work best and started wrapping Jeff’s foot. “What do you do?”

“I’m the head chef at Dejeuner.”

The restaurant was a famous enough Ottawa spot that Donny’d heard of it, though he couldn’t afford to eat there. “Wow, that’s cool. What’s your wife do?” He finished wrapping and used a clip to keep the gauze in place before settling back on his haunches to look up into Jeff’s face.

“I’m not married.”

Not married. Well, no wonder he was exhausted. Toddlers were hard work; throw in a baby and you could kiss a decent night’s sleep goodbye, especially if you were doing it alone.

Jeff shifted Kimberley, and the baby gurgled. “This has got to be the weirdest interview for you ever.”

“It’s more like a trial by fire than an interview, eh?” Donny grinned up at Jeff, patted the baby on the butt, and turned his attention to Robin. “And how about you—are you ready to help me show your daddy that I know how to do bath time properly?”

“Yes!” Water went flying, the little boy as joyous as he had been hysterical. It was a beautiful thing about that age: emotions were big and swift, and bad moods were usually easy enough to take care of. 

Even when the “terrible twos” lingered into the threes.

Laughing, he wiped the water off his face. It was too bad he hadn’t brought along a change of clothes. He would next time. If there was a next time; he was hoping like hell that he was proving his worth right here and now.

Between the two of them, they got Robin clean, dry, dressed, and sitting at the kitchen table with a snack of apples and cheese. Jeff fixed Kimberley a bottle and then offered him a tired smile. “Would you like some coffee? Water?”

“I’m good, man. I can feed her if you want, while we do the interview.”

“It’s okay. You’ve helped a ton already. Come on, let’s sit at the island, and you can tell me about yourself.”

“Sounds good. This is a gorgeous kitchen,” Donny added as he sat on one of the stools next to the island. Of course, Jeff was a chef—it made sense he had a great kitchen. This one was bigger than most kitchens Donny had seen, though. A table big enough for six sat next to a large window that opened onto a covered porch, which held another table with four chairs around it. The island was fabulous, but the corners hadn’t been covered and would probably do some damage to a little head if it careened into them.

The counters were light marble, and the cupboards were dark with gold knobs. A double oven sat next to the stovetop, and the fridge had one of those ice dispenser things. There was a door out to the porch. The whole thing was bright, and while it was fancy, it was inviting to sit in, and he’d bet to cook in as well.

“Thank you. I had it built just last year.”

“Must have been hard with a little one underfoot.” He gave Robin a grin, the little boy munching away on his apple slices.

“Oh, they just moved in… three weeks ago? Kimberley was only nine weeks old.”

“I thought she looked little-little.” This was clearly not your standard family here. The kids were definitely Jeff’s—they looked too much like him not to be—but Jeff wasn’t married, and they’d only moved in a few weeks ago. “I’m not prying, but I do need to know the family situation if I’m going to work for you.”

Jeff sighed. “The kids were…. God, this is complicated. Beth wanted babies, and she was my best friend. I… I was the donor for both.”

“Okay.” That was a pretty big thing, no matter how good a friend the lady was. He gave Jeff an encouraging look.

Jeff looked down at the baby, rocking her. “She was doing great, was getting ready to go back to work, when….” He stopped, cleared his throat. “There was a fire. She got the kids out. But….”

Oh God. Oh damn. That was… God. “I’m so sorry, Jeff. Man, that’s… I’m so sorry.” What could he say?

“Yeah. It sucked. And I’m their godfather. They came to live with me.” The godfather and the actual father. It made sense, given the circumstances, but at the same time, wow.

“So how long have you had them?”

“Since March twenty-third. Three weeks. My sister, Jillian, she came for ten days at the beginning, but….” Jeff suddenly looked desperate. “My leave at work is short, and what if one of them gets sick? And potty training. He’s wet the bed since he came.”

Someone needed a nap. And it wasn’t Robin. Or Kimberley.

“Sounds like you really need a nanny. Good thing you put an ad in for one.” He gave Jeff a grin. “How many people have you seen?” Was he still in the running? How many of them could have displayed the hands-on skills he had right now? That had to put him in the running, right?

“Twelve.” Jeff sighed. “Ten people who told me I needed to give them to their grandparents, one who wanted to be my live-in lover, and one who lectured me on the evils of butter.”

Donny frowned. “People suck, man—how you decide to raise your children is your business, and dude, butter is awesome.” He thought he definitely had a chance here. For the first time since about his twentieth interview, he had hope that he might get the job. “I’ve got my degree in early childhood care, but no practical experience, unless you count being the coolest uncle to my sisters’ kids. I can start tomorrow—well, even today, I guess. What kind of hours are we talking?” If Jeff was a chef, he was going to work afternoons and evenings, right?

“I work from two in the afternoon to midnight, Tuesday through Saturday. I know that’s like a lot of hours for you, but I’ll provide room and board and a good salary. You’d have Sunday and Monday off, and….” Jeff trailed off. “Do you have references? I should probably ask for those.”

Oh, room and board—he wouldn’t have to bus it in every day, which was a relief if he was going to be here until after midnight on a regular basis. It meant he could bank most of his salary too.

“I do. I have written references in my bag, which I left in the hall, and you can call them too, if you want. It is a lot of hours, but if I’m living in, I’m saving transit time.” And money paying for his own place. “I’ve met the kids and like them, and they don’t seem allergic to me.”

“No. No, they don’t.” Jeff offered him another half smile. Robin was falling asleep in his snack, and the baby was sleeping again. “I’ve never done this before. She wasn’t supposed to die.”

Donny nodded. “Yeah, life has a way of throwing punches. I’d really like to take the job. I could stay the rest of the afternoon as a trial while you get some rest, if you want.”

“You don’t want to see your room or anything?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Jeff. I’ve been to a lot of interviews, and most of the time I barely make it past the first two minutes because I’m a guy. And if I do, well, then I tell them….” He took a deep breath, hoping like hell Jeff wasn’t a homophobic prick. “I tell them I’m gay, and they can’t get rid of me fast enough.”

“You’re family?” Jeff’s eyes went wide.

His own mouth dropped open at Jeff’s words, and then he grinned, nodded. “How about that?”

“I…. Seriously? Are you fucking with me, man?”

“Daddy Jeff! Bad word!”

Donny had to bite his lip, hard, to keep from laughing. “That was a bad word, wasn’t it?”

Robin nodded, then teared up. “Mommy says no bad words.”

Jeff’s eyes closed. “I hate four in the afternoon. He acts like it’s nap time, but then he won’t be able to sleep.”

Shifting his chair closer to Robin, Donny took the little boy’s hand in his. “Sometimes people forget they aren’t supposed to say bad words. That’s what Daddy Jeff did. He’ll try very hard not to say it again, okay?”

He got a solemn nod from Robin, the little boy still sniffling.

“You have any DVDS of the Teletubbies or anything like that? Something he can settle with and chill for forty minutes or so?” If Robin was resisting naps, he would still benefit from some quiet time.

“I bought a bunch of sh—stuff. They lost everything. It’s been crazy.”

“Okay, it’s all good. Why don’t you go put Kimberley down and then put your head down yourself? You look like you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a while. Robin and I will check out your DVD collection together.”

He’d bet this job that Robin would fall asleep in front of the TV if they found something gentle to watch. He would also bet that if Jeff got some sleep and relaxed, it would help Robin relax as well.

He really felt for them all, and suddenly he was glad he’d not gotten a job yet. These people needed him. He knew things always happened for a reason; he shouldn’t have stressed about it so hard.

“We’ll all come rest together.”

That was fair—Jeff didn’t know him from a hole in the wall. Donny had no problem with his needing a little more than a bit of help in an emergency to leave the kids alone with him.

Jeff led him to a huge great room, the furniture heavy and leather and masculine, the little child’s beanbag chair next to the dark brown couch looking incongruous. There were shelves full of books and DVDs, a coffee table, and a couple of little tables next to the each of the recliners that bracketed the couch. Knickknacks were all chest height and above, but Donny knew how easy it would be for them to tempt Robin into climbing the shelves to get to them.

He would have to sit down with Jeff after he had managed to get some sleep and talk about some of the things that needed doing to properly childproof the place. Clearly an attempt had been made, but it was amazing how much more was needed. Especially when the baby got old enough to be mobile.

Jeff sat on the couch, the baby on his chest. Before Donny could get a movie on for Robin, the man was sound asleep.

He found a Max & Ruby DVD and put it in. “Where should we sit, Robin?”

“I…. That’s my big boy chair.” Robin pointed to the beanbag.

“Oh, it looks comfy. Is it?”

Robin nodded, chewed his bottom lip. “You can’t fit.”

“No, but I could sit next to you? Or we could sit on the couch together.”

“Okay. With Daddy Jeff?”

At the sound of his name, Jeff twitched.

“Yeah, you can sit between us.” Donny sat on the other side of the couch and patted the space between him and Jeff.

Robin crawled up and settled beside him, little hand on his father’s knee. His thumb popped into his mouth.

Donny held his hand out by Robin’s thigh. “Hold my hand?”

The little boy stared at him for a long, long time; then the thumb came out, fingers placed in his. Donny smiled gently and curled his fingers around Robin’s, then turned his attention to the TV, to getting the DVD going.

Soon the gentle sounds of Max & Ruby filled the room. It took seven minutes before Robin cuddled into Jeff’s side and fell sound asleep. Donny nodded—nap time.

Donny looked at the three of them. The family he was here to take care of. He felt like this was meant to be; they were his family.

Pretty fu—no, not fucking—pretty darn cool.

Sean

smut fixes everything

Throwback Thursday

I recently put up a couple of books that were originally out with Resplendence Publishing. I originally wrote this one in 2013 for their Handcuffs and Lace line, featuring cops and BDSM. Needless to say I had a lot of fun with this one.

It's available on Amazon and KU!

Royal Flush

Three years ago, Royal played slave to Mike’s Master while working undercover in the leather community, and their relationship has never recovered. After a perp’s accusation of impropriety, Royal and Mike decide taking early retirement with a pension is easier than fighting false charges. Nursing his wounds in a bar, Royal’s interrupted by a man from his past, from the very time when things with Mike started disintegrating.

Big, bald, and tattooed, Bone is a piercer with confidence and attitude to spare. He can’t believe his luck, spotting Royal at the bar. Here’s Bone’s chance at the man he’s wanted since giving Royal a very intimate piercing for an undercover stint. “I bet you’re still wearing my ring,” he challenges Royal, hoping the man will not only take this bet, but the next one as well. In fact, Bone is betting their future happiness on it.


Excerpt:

Royal sat at the bar and watched the whiskey swirl in his glass, the ice cubes clinking together, the scent of the liquor like spoiled cologne.

Fuck.

This shit sucked, so hard.

Ten years of working on the force. Eight years of working homicide. Three years deep undercover. Shit, he was the bastard who had helped collar Newt Lansome, the Craft Killer, and it only took one bad collar. One asshole swearing Royal had fudged with evidence and he…

Fuck.

Resign and keep your pension, or you and your partner can both get eaten alive by the fucking IA bastards.

It figured he had enough feelings, stupid as they were, about Mike that he’d agreed to the deal. Hell, he thought Mike was probably tickled. They’d never recovered from their last heavy case… Sure, Mike had known Royal was gay, but the undercover case had slammed it home to Mike in a way Royal’s former partner had obviously not wanted to know.

Royal shook his head, knocked back the booze, hoping it would ease things a bit.

A shadow fell over him and a low sexy chuckle sounded. “I bet you’re still wearing my ring.”

“What?” Surely no one was talking to him. Not here.

The guy leaned against the bar next to him, muscled body appearing, face coming into view. The guy had short spiky hair dyed completely white. There were about a dozen piercings in one ear, the other one empty. And tattoos… Royal could see a dragon’s head coming up over one shoulder, looking right at him from the dude’s neck.

“I said I bet you’re still wearing my ring.”

Bone. The piercer. The fucking stud of a piercer who’d put a ring in Royal’s cock.

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus.

Royal had been Collin then, and Mike had been Louis. Master Louis and his boy. Mike, who was the straightest man on earth, was inadvertently fulfilling Royal’s dirtiest fantasies.

“Well?”

Jesus. Bone’s smile was wicked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Royal’s cock and the ring embedded in the tip bobbed in his jeans.

Bone chuckled. “I’ll put money on it, man.”

“Look, I don’t…” Royal didn’t look the same. He couldn’t. He had a beard now, hair shaggy and loose, and he wasn’t being the needy, kinky bottom boy.

“A hundred bucks says I’m right. Two seconds in the men’s, and it’s yours if I’m barking up the wrong tree.” That wicked smile flashed again. “But I’m not.”

“What do you want, man?” Royal couldn’t win that bet, so he wouldn’t take it.

He remembered watching Bone hold his cock, pierce it, slid the thick ring through his slit. Mike had thrown up afterward, just disgusted. Royal hadn’t thrown up, though. He hadn’t even wanted to.

“You’re pricklier than I remember.”

“Things have changed.” Royal had changed. The whole fucking world had changed.

“You still on the job?” Bone had known. He’d been the one who’d told them what piercings a slave might have.

“No.” Bone had been their source, had taught them how to behave. Royal hadn’t been sure Mike would ever look at him again.

“So take the bet. We can change the terms. If you’re still wearing it, you give me a blow job; if you aren’t, I’ll give you one.”

Well, fuck. He just… Fuck. “How about double or nothing?”

“Sure.” Bone grinned, the look wicked. “I bet you want to give me that blow job.”

“And I bet you want to be on your knees for me. What’s the challenge?” He’d had just enough whiskey to be stupid.

“You’re the one who wanted to go double or nothing. You name the challenge.”

“Arm wrestling?”

Bone snorted, shook his head. “How about I bet I can make you come without touching you? I do it; you come be my slut for the weekend. I don’t… You get whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” That was a pretty big fucking bet.

Bone looked him up and down, licked his lips. “Whatever you want.”

“Okay.” He’d jacked off this morning, and shit, he wasn’t in that oh-do-me-now space, so yeah. Yeah. He could hang with this.

Bone held out his hand, and they shook.

Shit, the man’s hand was big. Hot. It had touched him, intimately. God, as soon as he got his blowjob, he was going home and hiding.

Bone let go slowly and signaled for a beer. “You want to do this here, or at a private booth?”

“I drink here a lot, man. We’ll sit in the back.”

“Lead the way. Your ass will be my inspiration.”

Sean

smut fixes everything

Smutterday - Totally Covered

As promised, here's a wee smutty excerpt from Totally Covered for your Saturday enjoyment :)

Mal has been Burke and Darby’s sub for a lot of years. As an undercover cop, he needs the release his once a quarter visits give him. Burke and Darby get a lot of out of the visits, too. Both Doms, it’s important for them to share a sub now and then to keep them on an even keel.

All that changes, though, when Mal is shot on the job and needs to stay with Burke and Darby during his recovery. Can his Doms bring Mal out of the funk his last undercover stint has left him in? Or will the three of them finally go their separate ways?

Find out in this second edition of Totally Covered.

Available at Amazon/KU.


Smutty Excerpt: 

Dar tugged Mal to him, mouth dropping onto Mal’s as he took the kiss he’d been wanting for weeks.

Oh, God. His boy. Their boy. Moaning, he tugged Mal in close, his hands holding onto that perfect little ass.

So patient. They’d been so fucking patient. He couldn’t wait anymore, he couldn’t stop kissing and holding and rubbing against his boy. He wanted to touch, to taste every inch, to eat Mal alive.

Key stepped up behind Mal, moving Dar’s hands away, so the little swim trunks could be pulled down. He grabbed that skin as soon as it was bare, though, squeezing hard. Key pressed up against Mal, pushing the lean body into him. He reached up, fingers tangling in the long, wet hair.

Key bent and began to suck at Mal’s neck. Mal’s response pushed into his lips, those beautiful green eyes wide. That’s what they needed, Mal’s full attention.

Dar pushed his knee between Mal’s legs, spreading them, pushing at the sweet balls. Key began to rock, pushing Mal into Dar again and again. Mal’s cock started to fill, and Dar wanted to crow.

He bit at Mal’s lower lip, at his tongue. Not hard, just enough for Mal to feel it. He felt Mal’s hips roll, buck against him. He wanted to howl in triumph. His needy boy.

Key’s hands started moving Mal, rocking the three of them together.

Dar broke the kiss, looking into Mal’s eyes. “You. Once. And then the ring goes on.”

Key popped Mal’s ass hard, once. “What do you say, boy?”

Mal swallowed audibly. “Yes, Sir.”

Sean
smut fixes everything

Book Day Wednesday

Totally Covered was originally published by Resplendence Publishing, which went out of business a couple of summers ago. I've self-published the book and it's now available at a lower price on Amazon and is also available on KU. There's an excerpt of the book here - look for a smutty excerpt on Saturday!

Mal has been Burke and Darby’s sub for a lot of years. As an undercover cop, he needs the release his once a quarter visits give him. Burke and Darby get a lot of out of the visits, too. Both Doms, it’s important for them to share a sub now and then to keep them on an even keel.

All that changes, though, when Mal is shot on the job and needs to stay with Burke and Darby during his recovery. Can his Doms bring Mal out of the funk his last undercover stint has left him in? Or will the three of them finally go their separate ways?

Find out in this second edition of Totally Covered.

Available at Amazon/KU.

Excerpt

Burke was surprisingly nervous.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t been friends with Malcolm for over twelve years. It wasn’t like Malcolm hadn’t been to the house hundreds of times in those last twelve years. They’d shared wine, laughter, good food, wild sex. They’d loved on Malcolm, torn him inside out, and rebuilt him countless times. They were Malcolm’s ground. They broke him and put him back together, so that he could keep doing his job.

Being an undercover cop was stressful.

Malcolm didn’t have family or friends. He had Burke and Darby. And they liked it like that. It meant they could play hard without having to bring someone new into their relationship. Hell, Malcolm was their sub in all but a few practicalities: that he didn’t live with them was the biggest.

All that had changed when Malcolm had been shot two weeks ago. Their lover had been hurt on the job before, but never like this, never in a life-threatening manner. Malcolm had stayed with them many times in the past, but this time he was coming to recuperate from a physical hurt, not a mental or emotional one, and Burke found himself nervous.

Darby chuckled. “Babe. Relax. It’s Malcolm.”

“I know, but…”

“But you’re worried he’s going to find out you’re a closet baker?”

Burke threw the pillow he’d been moving from one couch to the other at Dar. “Ass.”

Dar plucked the pillow out of the air and turned to wriggle his butt in Burke’s direction. “I thought I saw you admiring it.”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help laughing, relaxing. Dar knew him so well.

Warm, strong hands landed on his arms, Dar giving him a little shake and looking him in the eye. “Malcolm needs us, just like always. Would you have him turn to anyone else in his time of need?”

Burke’s “No!” was immediate and heartfelt. No, Malcolm was theirs.

Maybe that was the problem—he and Darby knew that, had known it for over a decade. Malcolm on the other hand… Well, their boy still believed he had a choice, still believed he wasn’t impossibly entwined with them. Burke didn’t know if Malcolm was ready to discover that he was indeed home when he was with his Doms.

The doorbell rang and Burke growled a little as he headed to let Malcolm in. “I still don’t understand why he didn’t let us pick him up from the hospital.”

“Because he’s still the most stubborn son-of-bitch you’ve ever met—he was shot in the chest and belly, not the head.”

Snorting, Burke flung open the door.

“Hey.” Mal stood there, bag in hand, white as milk and swaying. “I’m here.”

Thank God, they’d seen him every day in the hospital, so they knew that the heavy muscles had become lean, that the short, short black hair was shaggy now. This undercover assignment might have destroyed Mal, even if the bullets hadn’t hit him.

Burke kept his growls inside and bit back his complaints about Mal not letting them come pick him up. Instead, he stepped up and wrapped an arm around Mal’s waist, taking the man’s bag in his other hand. “Welcome home, boy.”

Sean
smut fixes everything

Smutterday - Sand and Heat

As promised, here is a smutty excerpt from Sand and Heat!

Desert dweller Feyer has just been sold to a new Raya, or lord, and he's not thrilled about it. At least until Amut takes Feyer in hand, turning his world inside out. Feyer finally finds his place in Amut's world, though, learning to love his new master, needing to please him in all ways. Sand and Heat brings five tales of Feyer's life, and the desert sun isn't the only heat generated by these steamy stories. Amut is a sensual master with prodigious appetites, and Feyer was made to serve him. 

This classic Sean Michael will give you a meltdown with these adventurous tales!

Originally released as Taste Test: Sand and Heat by another publisher.

Buy links:

Evil Plot Bunny

Amazon

Smutty Excerpt:

"I wish only to serve you, Raya."

"Do you?" Amut offered him another drink, another kiss. His head spun from the wine, from the loss of breath, from the gentle attention washing over his shattered nerves.

"Yes, Meun Amut, it is what I was made for. To fill my Raya's every need." The tears in his eyes overflowed. He ached to do his duty but every time he had tried it had only made things worse. "I don't understand."

"What do you not understand, little chadan?" Hands, warm and unbelievably strong, stroked over his shoulders, his chest, touching him, feeling him. The husky voice rolled over him, tongue licking at his tears. "All you need do is give yourself to me. I will give you all you need."

"I am yours." His tears continued to fall, Amut's care unexpected, almost shocking after the last days.

"Yes, little chadan. You are mine. Would you serve your raya or do you prefer to decorate my walls?" The rough, hot tongue lapped at his cheeks.

His body strained toward Amut's; he knew only one answer to the question, knew it with his entire being, it was who he was. "I would serve my Raya."

His response must have been appropriate, for he was rewarded with a long, deep kiss and hot hands released his wrists, allowing them to fall upon the sleek strong shoulders. He filled his raya's mouth with a sob, hands sliding over the warm flesh, shaping and re-learning the muscular contours. His shoulders ached, muscles stretched and sore, but he ignored his pains for pleasures that were offered.

Hands caught beneath his buttocks and lifted him, his world, so long still and empty, suddenly swaying and filled with the feel and taste and smell of his raya. He was laid upon soft furs, the heat of skin covering him from above. The kiss never ended.

He was drowning in sensation, drowning in his raya, and foreign as it was to him, he didn't want it to stop. His old raya had never overwhelmed him like this, never filled his senses and mind so completely.

The furs were cool and slick against him, his raya's hands rubbing him, petting him -- but not as if he were a pet, instead touching deeply, touching muscles and bones and leaving the knowledge of that hand within his veins. He arched into the touches, moved and twisted into them, searching for more.

"Do you see, little one? Do you understand what awaits you when you find your place in honor?" The words filled his head as he gasped for air. His raya slowly turned the ring in his cock, possessive fingers tracing the thin skin of his shaft.

He tried to nod, tried to answer, but only soft, keening sounds came from him.

Sean

smut fixes everything

Smutterday - Perfect 10

As promised, here is a smutty excerpt from Perfect 10.

Perfect 10

Despite a life-threatening injury sustained in a vaulting accident, top gymnast Christopher Allen is determined to get back to his former perfect condition and compete again. Brian Rainings is a coach in need of someone to believe in, and he takes Chris on, admiring the spirit and determination that drives Chris to succeed. And admiring the sturdy, muscled body Chris maintains.

Admiration soon leads to something much hotter as they train together. From their scorching first kiss, Brian and Chris’s chemistry is obvious, but they have a long road ahead to get Chris back into shape. Months of hard work lead to success, with Chris gaining strength every day and finally finding the elusive sponsor he needs for financial support. Secrets, hidden dangers, and family troubles plague them, though, and they have to face the fact that Chris might never compete again and score that perfect ten.

Second Edition. 

First Edition published by Torquere Press, 2006.

Buy links:
Dreamspinner Press
Amazon 
Barnes & Noble 
Kobo 

Smutty Excerpt:

Brian stepped forward suddenly, reached for Chris’s head, and crashed his mouth down on Chris’s.

Oh sweet fuck.

Chris opened right up, this kiss completely different from the one at the gym, hard and deep and needy. Brian’s groan filled his mouth, their teeth clicking together as the kiss went on and on, the need growing stronger.

The phone stopped ringing, but Chris barely noticed, lips swollen and hot, aching from the kisses. Brian’s hips pushed into him, pressing him against the counter, hard prick solid and hot.

Oh fuck. He wanted. Right now. Heat rushed through him, his cock throbbing, aching in his jeans. Brian’s fingers twisted in his hair, tugging his head back, the kiss deepening further. Their hips ground together, cocks rubbing through too many fucking layers.

Chris wrapped one leg around Brian, pulling them tighter together. Yeah. Yeah, he…. Oh. Oh fuck.

Brian sawed against him, and a strangled sound pushed into his mouth, the tang of blood sudden and strong as his lower lip caught on Brian’s teeth. His hips jerked, muscles going tight and his balls drawing up. Shit. Soon. Damn.

One of Brian’s hands slid away from his hair, pushed between them, Brian fumbling with his own zipper before suddenly grabbing at his arm. Brian stiffened, a shudder moving through him. “Chris! Fuck!”

“Uh. Uh-huh.” He could smell sex now, sex and need and hunger.

“Oh damn. Sorry. Long time. Sorry. God. Uh. Your turn,” muttered Brian, breathless, still shivering, shuddering. Brian started kneading the front of Chris’s pants, tongue fucking his mouth.

“Please….” Chris bucked, undulating into Brian’s touch, his eyes rolling.

Brian managed to get a hand into Chris’s jeans, wrap his fingers around Chris’s cock and hold it tight. 

With his free hand, Brian tugged Chris’s zipper the rest of the way down, giving him more room to move, to stroke Chris.

“Oh God. Good.” He fucked Brian’s hand furiously, letting himself go, letting himself move.

Brian pushed under Chris’s T-shirt, fingers finding a nipple, ratcheting everything up yet another notch. “Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you come.”

“Uh-huh.” Chris went up on his toes, balls going tight. Fuck. Fuck yes. Brian stared at him, and fuck, so good. Good enough that he shot, thighs shaking.

Brian whimpered softly, mouth meeting Chris’s in a kiss as gentle as the earlier ones had been demanding. The hard grip on Chris’s prick barely loosened, Brian still stroking slowly, tugging out one more shudder and then another.

“Oh. So good.” Chris blinked, head rolling on his shoulders. “So good.”

Brian leaned against him, pushing Chris’s ass against the counter as they caught their breath. “Yeah. Man. Wow.”

Chris’s phone suddenly started ringing 

Sean

smut fixes everything

Book Day Wednesday

Today is the re-release day for Perfect 10. I'd like to thank Dreamspinner Press for taking it on to reprint it and giving it such a wonderful cover! There's a non-smutty excerpt here - look for a smutty one on Saturday!

Perfect 10

Despite a life-threatening injury sustained in a vaulting accident, top gymnast Christopher Allen is determined to get back to his former perfect condition and compete again. Brian Rainings is a coach in need of someone to believe in, and he takes Chris on, admiring the spirit and determination that drives Chris to succeed. And admiring the sturdy, muscled body Chris maintains.

Admiration soon leads to something much hotter as they train together. From their scorching first kiss, Brian and Chris’s chemistry is obvious, but they have a long road ahead to get Chris back into shape. Months of hard work lead to success, with Chris gaining strength every day and finally finding the elusive sponsor he needs for financial support. Secrets, hidden dangers, and family troubles plague them, though, and they have to face the fact that Chris might never compete again and score that perfect ten.

Second Edition. 

First Edition published by Torquere Press, 2006.

Buy links:
Dreamspinner Press
Amazon 
Barnes & Noble 
Kobo 

Excerpt:

Chapter One

 

Brian stopped in front of the diner and looked at the door for a moment.

It was one of those silver-bullet, old-style diners, the chrome dull with age, the windows shining clean and bright. Kind of a strange place for a job interview, but that’s essentially what this was.

He’d heard through the grapevine that Christopher Allen was trying to make a comeback after his vault accident, despite the fact that his coach and corporate sponsorship had bailed on him. He’d also heard it was a long shot, that the guy was lucky he wasn’t in a wheelchair, let alone even thinking about competing again. Scuttlebutt said Christopher was too old to start over, too injured, too past it.

And too stubborn to admit it.

Brian liked that in an athlete.

So he’d called and asked for a meeting. He hadn’t told Christopher he’d have to fly in just for this meeting. He’d kept it casual—let’s have lunch at that little place on the corner of Smith and Fifth.

This could change Brian’s whole life. Not that he didn’t like coaching the girls at the private school where he was working, but he missed men’s gymnastics, missed being involved, the feeling of the powder on his hands, the shaking in his muscles as he pushed himself past the point of his endurance….

His own glory days, such as they were, were over, but he had a chance to coach someone else into that sweet place where hard work and achievement met.

He had to convince Christopher Allen that he was the man for the job.

Brian took a breath and went in, the sounds of the street replaced by the sounds of people talking, china and silverware clinking, and the smell of grease filling his nose.

He scanned the booths, looking for Christopher.

It took him a second to find the guy, the signature blond hair dull and overgrown where it was bent over a menu, the square jaw hidden by a scrappy beard. The man had lost some weight, some form, but Brian could see the musculature still evident through the tight T-shirt.

Brian made his way over slowly, that feeling coming over him, the one that said this was a moment he wanted to remember, one he wanted to be sure to live in.

He stopped at Christopher’s booth and cleared his throat. “Christopher Allen? Hi, I’m Brian Rainings.”

“Hey there. Call me Chris.” Chris stood, unfolding himself from the booth, the motion a little awkward, a little stiff. “Nice to meet you. How’s it going?”

“Good, thanks. What about you? How’re you doing?”

“Doing good. Doing real good.” One square hand was offered over. “Have a seat, man.”

Brian shook Chris’s hand. Chris had a good grip, warm and firm, not overbearing. “Thanks. And thanks for agreeing to see me.”

Chris might have been on the injured list and abandoned by his people, but the buzz around him had been incredible before the accident, and Brian figured he couldn’t be the only one who wanted this job.

“Sure. You and I competed together once, a long time ago. Back when I was a junior and you were on top.”

“Yeah, I do remember. The buzz in the locker room was all about this blond kid who was going to smoke everyone in a few years.” The vinyl seats were surprisingly soft, like they’d been well taken care of.

“Yeah. Talk’s probably still the same, just for another kid.” It was a little unnerving looking at Chris. One eye was a bright blue, the other a deep, dark green.

“It always is. Everyone wants to discover the next big thing. Of course, I might be sitting right in front of him.” Brian grinned, knowing he was laying it on thick.

Chris chuckled, eyes dancing. “You do know I had back surgery, yeah?”

“Oh, you’re that Christopher Allen.” Brian winked and nodded. “Yeah, I know. I also know you’re looking to come back.”

“Looking to, yeah. I’ve been working on the trampoline, stretches, getting up to speed. I want to be ready.”

“Sounds good. You tried any of the equipment yet? The vault?”

“The rings. The bar. No landings yet.”

“How’s it feel?” He still worked out using some old routines himself—it was a hard thing to give up, pushing your body to its limits and beyond like that, feeling high and free.

“Stiff. I’m loving the tramp work. I can’t do much else—nowhere wants a guy without a coaching staff doing much training.”

He nodded. “Yeah, they don’t want the responsibility. So you still need a coach, then?”

“Yeah, Harry and Jeff moved on. They got Les Martin and both Evvie and Jean Parsons. Three for the price of one, you know?”

“Sounds like a good deal. For them. Kind of left you in the lurch, though, yeah?”

Man, that was a practiced shrug. “It’s a business. I’m not a sure thing.”

“Neither are they. What if there’s another accident? Harry and Jeff going to move on again?” Brian held up his hands. “Sorry, loyalty’s a dying art, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. You want a burger? Chili dog?”

“Chili dog. With fries. And I hope they’re greasy.” And a milkshake. Brian loved diner food. “What about you? Burger? Chili dog? Coach Rainings?”

Those eyes caught his, curious, questioning. “You haven’t even seen what I can do yet.”

“No, but I know what your heart is. You had every reason in the world to give up—between the surgery and losing all your support—but you didn’t. You’re still out there working, getting ready. I know I’m not a big-name coach, and I haven’t proved myself yet. I’m sure you’ve had a number of offers, but I promise you, I will meet you heart to heart, and I won’t let you down.”

Chris nodded, stopped as the waitress came up. “I want a cup of black coffee, two beef patties with cheese, and a salad.”

“Chili cheese dog, fries, and a chocolate milkshake, please.”

“Mmm. Chocolate.” Chris chuckled, winked. “Where do you like to work?”

“Well, frankly, I’d prefer somewhere small, quiet. You don’t need the pressure of a high-profile gymnasium with big names. There’ll be pressure enough without that.”

“Yeah. I’d prefer to fall on my ass in private the first few zillion times.”

“There’s a facility in Monterey. I know the guy who owns it. It’s a beautiful town, weather’s nice, and it’s off the beaten path as far as gymnastics goes, but it’s still close enough to a lot of the big meets.”

“Monterey? Like California? Man, I don’t have any sponsors. I can’t afford an apartment out there.”

“Well, all it takes is one. Have you made any calls?” Brian started sorting names through his mind. Mars used to sponsor him; he bet if he gave Bob Silmon a call, he could work something out—they were good people.

“No. No. I…. Well, I sort of hoped that Harry and Jeff would….” Christopher stopped, blushed. “No, not yet.”

The waitress came with their drinks, and Brian said, “Thank you,” waiting until she’d gone again before answering. “They aren’t going to, though, are they? But I’m here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m not caught in the past, man. I’m not.”

“Well, I don’t know if anyone could blame you if you were, but in order to get past what happened, you are going to have to face forward, reach for that brass ring, and not live in I-used-to-be-somebody land, you know?” He leaned forward. “You also need to do this because you have to. If you’re not going to put two hundred percent into it, you’re not going to come back.”

Chris met his eyes, gaze still, steady. “If I give it five hundred percent, there’s a good chance I won’t come back, but that hasn’t stopped me yet.”

Jesus, Brian thought, there was some fury right there, under the surface.

“I’m glad you know that. And now you know that I know it. So it’s all out in the open. And I’m still here.” He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the cold on his tongue. He bet that anger alone would push Chris far. But it wouldn’t be enough on its own.

Chris finished one cup of coffee and motioned for another, offering the waitress a half smile of thanks. “So what do you get out of this? You looking for a springboard to the big leagues? Because I’ll be honest, I’ve just finished being that, and it sucked.”

“Well, I’ve got a job right now. Coaching gymnastics at a girls’ private school. The money is good. It’s steady work. And the girls are great—they really are. But it’s not…. Men’s gymnastics is where my heart is, but I don’t want to be some assistant coach for some big club or school. I want to work hands-on with someone.” He gave the waitress a smile of his own as their food came. “I want a challenge. I want to believe in someone.”

“I hear that.” Chris dug into his burger, slathering it with mustard and using lettuce leaves for the bun.

Brian grinned as he dug into his fries. That was one thing he didn’t miss about competing—the constant need to watch your carb intake, to chart body-mass indexes, watch every pound you added, making sure it was all muscle.

“I can tell you this, Chris. If you agree to let me coach you, you will always have someone in your corner. Someone who will push you when you can’t push yourself, who will believe in you. Someone who will be there for you no matter who or what else is around.”

Chris nodded, stared at the table. “I need to think about it. I have to finish this semester before I can do anything, before I can make plans.”

Brian nodded. “I’d heard you were back in school. How close are you to graduating?”

He hadn’t given up his day job. Hell, he wouldn’t be giving up his day job to train Chris, not to start with anyway. He had a few contacts in Monterey, knew there was a phys ed teaching position for him if this worked out. Until Chris had proved himself, sponsorship money was going to be damned tight.

“I’ll have my bachelor’s in May. Then I have to decide where to go from there. There are lots of options.” Chris had a reputation for being driven, for being stubborn and one-track minded. Brian could so see it.

Chris was going to need that, coming off an injury like his.

“If you’re going to come back, though, you don’t want to wait too long. Once you’re an old man like me, you’re washed up, injury or no injury.” Brian grinned wryly, recognizing the irony of being not quite yet thirty and over the hill.

“Shit. I’m trying. I’m fucking trying, but no one lets me on the equipment. I need somewhere to train, to take chances.”

“Well, why don’t you come out to Monterey for the summer? I have a teaching position and no other commitments until, possibly, September. That would give us a few months to work together, let you push it, see how you’re feeling.” There it was. He couldn’t lay it out there much plainer. Come and train.

There was a spark in Chris’s eyes, a sudden hunger. “I… is there a place I can stay? Rent a room?”

“Well, Monterey has this private school. Kind of a sister school to the one where I’m currently working. They run a summer program for the girls, and the job’s mine if I want it. I could use an assistant coach, someone who knows what they’re doing. Pay should cover room and board, and the equipment would be ours as soon as the girls clear out.” It wasn’t a big facility or unlimited time for training, but it was workable.

“That sounds like a damned sweet deal.” Chris drank another cup of coffee, starting to bounce a little.

“That’s because you’ve never worked with teen and preteen girls.” Brian winked but then grinned and finished his fries. “So should I tell my friend he’s got a coach and assistant coach?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I could…. I can do that. Hell, worse comes to worse, I can run on the beach.”

Brian nodded. “A change of scenery can be a great boost, but you’ll get time on the equipment. It’ll be part of our contract.” He’d make sure of that.

He kept his knees from bouncing by sheer force of will, eager for a definitive yes.

“Okay. Okay, I can do that. I graduate the twelfth.” Brian got a half grin, a bittersweet smile. “I can tell my folks I already got a job.”

“Oh, you’re good at putting a good spin on things. One of the first lessons, isn’t it?” Brian held out his hand. “Shall we shake on it? On new beginnings?”

Chris stared at him for a long, slow minute, then took his hand, shook it. “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you or not.”

Brian shook his head. “I’m a big boy, Chris. I make my own decisions. And I’m not here for altruistic reasons. I’m here for me.” He held on to Chris’s hand a moment longer and then let go. “I’m lucky what I want and what you want are the same thing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Do…. What all paperwork do you want? Doctor stuff? Therapy? I have it all in a box at my apartment.” Chris started eating again, chowing down.

“Yeah, that would be good. Would it be possible to take it with me today? I’m on a flight back home tonight, and it would be cheaper for me to take it than for you to ship it. I’d like to get a look at you too, if I can. See what you can do, where you’re at.” That was likely more important than anything papers could tell him.

“Sure. I can probably get a spot at the university gym. When’s your flight?”

“Not until nine forty, so we’ve got some time. I’m really looking forward to seeing your form.”

It would let him put together a game plan, get started on paper. Hell, it would tell him how far Chris had come since the injury and how much further he had to go.

Brian drained his drink and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Damn, there was nothing quite like greasy food. It had always been one of his downfalls.

“Cool. I’ll make some phone calls, see what Coach Farris can do. Excuse me.” Chris slid out of the booth, pulling out a cell phone as he walked away. Brian heard, “Steve? Hey, man, this is Chris. You got a minute?”

Brian pulled out his wallet and looked around for the waitress, signaling that they wanted the bill. Then he sat there, still not quite sure he believed it.

He’d made his pitch, and Chris had gone for it. He’d pinned his hopes on this trip, and it had worked out for him. He chuckled, the way he felt too big to hold in.

Chris wandered back, nodded a little, and dug out his wallet. “Steve says we can have the place in a half hour. We just need to meet him there.”

“Oh, that’s excellent! I’m glad they could be so accommodating.” Brian nodded toward Chris’s empty plate. “You going to be okay so soon after the heavy meal?”

“If not, we’ll find out.” Chris shrugged. “It isn’t like we have a ton of time.”

Brian laughed, nodding. “There is that. I really don’t want to re-see that meal, though.”

He gave the waitress his card. “Why don’t you leave the tip?” After all, he’d invited Chris out, and he imagined that with the injury and all his backers pulling out, things were tight.

“Yeah? Okay. Thanks. I’ll buy us something to drink for the gym. I’m always thirsty as hell after.” Chris put a five on the table, face showing a bit of animation.

Oh, the man was hooked on it; Brian could see it.

In fact, Chris’s enthusiasm was contagious, and when Brian got his card back and they headed out, there was a definite bounce in his step.

“If they aren’t letting you do much on the equipment, as you’re coachless, what have you been doing?”

“Studying. Working. I sold all my furniture and bought a weight set, and my GPA jumped to a 3.9.”

Chris led him out, straight toward a little old green Honda. His walk was a bit stiff, but not bad. Not impossible.

“What equipment was it you’ve been on again?”

It was one of the things he liked about teaching, getting to show the girls stuff, being able to use the equipment now and then.

Not that they had rings at his current job, but they did have a pommel horse. It wasn’t like he still had decent strength in his upper body anymore anyway. It was amazing how quickly that faded. “And have you been working on your upper body, keeping your strength up?”

“Rings. The bar. I haven’t hit a landing. No one wants me to try yet.” Chris opened the car door, slid in. “I do weight training five hours a day.”

Brian put on his seat belt. “Have your doctors prohibited you from landing?” If Chris couldn’t land, he couldn’t compete. It was as simple as that.

Chris’s strong hands clenched the steering wheel, the leather around it creaking. “I haven’t been cleared. I can’t land if I can’t train. I can’t train if I don’t get a coach. I can’t compete if I can’t land.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the way of it. But we’re about to break that vicious circle, yeah? We did shake on it, right?”

“Yeah?” Those two-toned eyes looked over at him. “I…. Man, I thought you were about to tell me you’d changed your mind.”

“Oh! No, no. I’m sorry, didn’t meant to stress you out. I mean, back surgery, I knew it was going to be a long haul. Hell, Chris, you’re probably taking a bigger chance on me—I’m totally untried in coaching men’s gymnastics.”

He got a quick look as they backed out of the parking lot. “Well, then, I bet I can come up with a list of gymnast demands.”

Well, well. Look at that.

A sense of humor.

Brian laughed. “Hey, as long as it doesn’t cost money, you might be able to talk me into that list.” There was a surprising amount of traffic as they drove out onto the highway—it’d been too long since he’d been in the big city. “It always busy like this?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Chris drove with confidence, changing lanes, zipping down the highway. “I’ll grab my box, and then we can head to the school.”

Chris drove them to a little dragged-down section of town, its old houses made into dozens and dozens of student apartments. Dingy and tired, but solid. Comfortable. Lacking in terrible scariness.

“You gonna mind sharing digs with me in Monterey? We don’t have to, but there’ll be more money for other stuff if we share.” He wasn’t too sure about the “don’t have to” either, but he didn’t want to force it on Chris.

He got another quick look. “Look, man. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I know how to stay in my own bed, and I haven’t ever been inappropriate with a teammate.”

They pulled into a driveway, and Chris turned off the engine.

“Um… I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.” Though from what Chris had said, Brian could guess. “I was more thinking about you being uncomfortable living with a stranger, sharing digs. Or what you might have heard about me.”

“Oh.” Chris looked at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Brian chuckled. “I think we both need our gaydar tweaked.” To be honest, he’d been so focused on seeing Chris, convincing him to accept his offer of coaching….

“Yeah. You need to catch up with the latest gossip too.” Those sharp cheekbones were painfully red, Chris’s eyes pinned to the steering wheel. “You want to wait here or come up while I get that stuff for you?”

“Well, that depends. Are you going to catch me up with the gossip?” Brian bumped their shoulders together. “I’ll stay here.” Give Chris a few minutes to compose himself.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Chris headed upstairs, disappeared behind a little red door.

Lord, a guy with a reputation.

Brian wished he knew what that reputation was. He really was out of the loop at Mrs. Kernicke’s School for Girls. And now he was curious as hell.

It had him chuckling at himself. He wasn’t even back in the scene for a half hour, and already he was eager to hear the gossip.

Back in the scene.

Wow.

Too cool.

Sean 

smut fixes everything

Smutterday - In Time of Need

As promised, here is a smutty excerpt of In Time of Need.

Chip McMullen has always wanted to know what it was like to really bottom, but has never voiced his desires to anyone until the evening he’s nursing a beer after a shot to his shoulder that was stopped by his vest. He runs into Dawson Sorenson at the bar and the two of them get to talking.

Chip knows Dawson is gay like him, out but not loud about it. Maybe that’s why he finds himself confessing a few of his desires to the man. Dawson suggests Chip check out the Bloody Rose if that’s the kind of thing Chip wants.

Can Chip admit just how far his needs go to himself and make the trek to the Bloody Rose?

Buy links:
Evil Plot Bunny
Amazon


Smutty Excerpt: 

“Get up and follow me. Two steps behind. Don’t look at anyone.” Daws licked his earlobe. “You can watch my ass.”

Part of Chip refused, roared in fury, but a bigger part, the part that needed, nodded.

“Good boy.” Daws took Chip’s mouth again, tongue fucking his lips like it was a reward. Then Daws straightened, turned, and headed toward the back of the club.

Chip followed, his muscles tight and hard, his cheeks on fire. Daws never even looked back once. Chip wasn’t sure if it was hot or insulting that Daws was that sure of him. Chip was beginning to think he wasn’t sure of anything, except the ache in his cock.

When they went through the door at the back of the club, it opened up into a corridor with doors at regular intervals. The noise of the club faded behind them. Daws stopped at one of the doors and opened it with a keycard, turning to smile at Chip, eyes meeting his unerringly.

Chip was trying real hard to keep his shit together, to breathe.

When Daws reached for him, Chip went automatically. Daws took his hand and tugged him into the room, the door closing behind them. It wasn’t skanky at all. There was a bed, a chair and a table, soft lighting.

“I…I don’t know what to do next, man.” It was as honest as he could be.

“Sit on the bed and relax a minute. Tell me why you came.” Daws went to the big chair, turned it to face the bed, and lounged on it, legs spread.

Chip sat. “I was curious.” I want someone to fuck me, to really fuck me hard. I want to see if it’s as hot as I dream it is.

“You knelt for me. That’s good. I know what you want, and I’m going to give it to you. There’s lube and condoms on the table there. Make sure the lube’s open, the condom easy to reach from the bed.”

“Okay.” Chip reached out, forcing his hands not to shake as he did what he was asked. Told.

“Good boy.” Daws’ voice was soft, and a little rough—husky. “Now come over here and kneel between my legs.”

Breathe, Chip. Just breathe. You can leave, whenever you want to. He moved, taking careful steps, kneeling like his knees were made of glass.

Daws made an appreciative noise. “Sexy fucker.” The words made kneeling less humiliating, more erotic. “Open up my leathers, baby. You’re going to get me good and hard, ready to take your ass.”

Chip moaned, deep in his chest, and this time his hands were shaking. Daws’ hand slid over Chip’s scalp again, tugging on his short hair. His head bobbed with the sting, his fingers opening up the complicated fly on the leather plants. Daws groaned, legs spreading wider. Chip could see the way Daws’ prick pushed at the leathers, like it was eager to get to him, to get out.

“How did you get these on?” Chip eased the zipper down, making sure his fingers protected Daws’ cock.

Daws’ chuckle slid right through him. “I wasn’t hard at the time.”

Well, the man certainly was now, and Chip hoped it was for him.

Thick, red, hard and huge, Daws was extremely well hung. “Get me wet, baby. I want you.”

Chip didn’t even pretend that he didn’t know what Daws wanted. He leaned in, wrapped his lips around the heavy cock and started sucking. Daws’ groan was gratifying and the hand in Chip’s hair tightened, but Daws didn’t guide him or force him.

Soft words poured down around him. “Sweet baby boy, you’ve got a mouth made for sucking. Look so good on your knees. Gonna fuck you so good. You’re going to scream for me.”

Chip groaned, spreading his thighs to make room for his aching cock.

“That’s it, baby. Suck it like the sweet fucking cocksucker you are. Gonna reward you so good.” Daws’ thumb pushed into Chip’s lips alongside the thick cock.


The words poured over Chip, and he groaned, his muscles going tight.

Sean

smut fixes everything