5 Reason I Chose to Write M/M by Cassandra Carr

When I was speaking with Lissa recently about my first male/male release,
See the Light, I asked her if she wanted me to do a guest blog on a
specific topic. She suggested “why I write m/m”. I love it when people do
my work for me, so thanks to Lissa! 😉

I love m/m stories. I love reading them, and I loved writing See the Light.
So without further ado, five reasons I decided to write a male/male story.

1. I love men. And what’s better than one man? Two men! Especially when
they’re gettin’ down and dirty with each other.
2. There’s something rougher about the way men relate to each other. Sure,
we love reading those scenes with (to borrow a line from Crash Davis in
Bull Durham) long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days, but
there’s also something to be said for the rough, teeth clashing, lip biting
kisses that men seem more likely to engage in. Men don’t hesitate to slam
each other into walls, grab a butt roughly…
3. While there are always commonalities in any two people falling in love,
two men pose unique challenges, not the least of which concerns whether
they’re “out” or not. The two men in See the Light are definitely not
“out”, since one is a professional hockey player and the other is an
adviser and scout. I liked bringing the issue of gays in sports to the
forefront.
4. Men are oftentimes ruled by their penises. We know this. If it’s
interesting watching one guy struggle with that, it’s even more interesting
to watch both of them try to deal with it.
5. In romance novels, there tends to be an emphasis on the happy-ever-after
– marriage! Kids! With a male/male, though gay couples certainly get
married and have children, the happy-ever-after tends to focus more on the
emotion/relationship itself.

So what do you think? Why do you love male/male stories?

CC_SeeTheLight_coverinTitle: See the Light
ISBN: 978-1-62300-201-5
Release date: 2/26/13
Publisher: Loose Id
Word Count: 41,702
Blurb:
Hockey player Jason Monroe lives a double life—star defenseman and
soon-to-be Olympian on the ice and closeted gay man outside the rink. A
serious relationship is out of the question, and Jason makes do with
anonymous sex in barroom bathrooms, not willing to take the chance on
coming out as gay in a decidedly macho sport.

Advisor to the US Olympic hockey team Patrick Parker knows a thing or two
about being a professional hockey player who’s not out. He’s fifteen years
older than Jason, and when he senses the sexy younger man is interested, he
knows he shouldn’t give in to the attraction. The two men can’t keep their
hands off each other, though, and with each heated encounter it gets harder
to hide their relationship. Then their world blows up around them, forcing
them into the limelight. Will their love survive or be put on ice?

Excerpt:
Jason stared at the other man, the lust burning him where he stood. He
moved even closer, like a moth to a flame.
*What the fuck am I doing?*
Apparently Patrick didn’t know either, because his expression became
alarmed. “What?”
*I can’t stop.*
“I need to do this.”
Not giving Patrick a chance to react to his words, Jason grabbed him, one
hand palming the back of Patrick’s head as Jason’s other arm snaked around
the man’s waist, pulling him into Patrick’s rock-hard body. It was obvious
the man kept in shape, despite his playing days being over, and a tortured
moan escaped before he could stop it. Jason dived into Patrick’s mouth as
the passion flared, melting him from the inside out. He hadn’t kissed a man
in years, and he realized how much he’d missed it as the kiss went on and
on, neither man willing to let the other go.
He could feel Patrick’s cock as it lined up with his, and even through
layers of clothing Jason felt the heat pouring off the other man. It made
him want to submit to anything Patrick desired, which confused him.
Honestly Jason couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a man’s dick in his
mouth, but right now he’d give just about anything to suck Patrick off.
Patrick pushed them backward until they crashed into the wall, never
letting their lips separate as he took control of the kiss. With a growl,
the older man reached down and cupped Jason’s ass, pulling their cocks
even closer and rubbing them together. Jason turned his head to the side
with a gasp to break the kiss before he passed out, but Patrick kept at
him, scoring his teeth down Jason’s neck to his pulse point.
“So fucking hot.”

Copyright 2013, Cassandra Carr

Bio:
Cassandra Carr is a multi-award winning erotic romance writer with Ellora’s
Cave, Siren Publishing, Sybarite Seductions, Decadent Publishing, and Loose
Id. She lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her
daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey
and hanging out online. Cassandra is the co-founder of two successful group
blogs, Romancing the Jock and Dirty Birdies, and participates in several
others as a contributor. Recently she was re-elected president of Western
New York Romance Writers.

For more information about Cassandra, check out her website , “like” her
Facebook fan page at
AuthorCassandraCarr or
follow her on Twitter 

Guest: Cassandra Carr

I have my friend Cassandra Carr on today to promote her new BDSM release…

MASTER CLASS by Cassandra Carr
Publisher: Loose Id
ePublish date: 12/11/2012
ISBN: 978-1-62300-068-4
Word count: 47,250
Genre: BDSM Contemporary

Ryan Tomasi feels like a failure. His marriage is officially over; the ink dried on the divorce decree. His friend Jack introduces him to BDSM and he agrees to attend a Halloween party at a club. A submissive approaches him, offering herself, and how can he refuse the kneeling beauty? They do a whirlwind scene and Ryan is addicted—both to dominance and to her.

Lisette Rinaldo is returning to the BDSM club for the first time since ending a bad relationship with her former master. She spots Ryan and is taken by the combination of self-assurance and nervousness the man displays as he takes in his surroundings. And after he gives her an incredible re-introduction to the lifestyle, she knows she needs to see the man again.

Ryan and Lisette explore each other and the lifestyle, but what started out as playtime quickly evolves into something more. The problem? Ryan isn’t ready to get serious again and Lisette doesn’t want to fall in love with a guy who can’t give all of himself to her. Both of them are going to have to break out of the bonds holding them back from happiness.

EXCERPT:
“What the fuck is an acceptable costume to wear to a Halloween party at a BDSM club?” Ryan Tomasi muttered aloud to himself. He did that a lot these days, since he lived alone after his recent divorce. “Sheesh.”
From his Internet research, he knew people who practiced BDSM—the term “practice” cracked him up every time—already dressed in some pretty outrageous outfits. Between the leather daddies and the pony play, as well as the other strange getups he’d seen online, Ryan wasn’t sure what to think. Full-body latex encasement? He shuddered.
But one thing was clear. He couldn’t keep fucking random women and feel good about it or himself. The whole mess had started after Ryan’s now ex-wife had blindsided him with divorce papers about a year ago, saying she didn’t love him anymore. The fact he’d loved her and had wanted to work on the marriage apparently wasn’t good enough, and Ryan found himself living in a rented house with nothing but his recliner and a futon to sleep on. Over the past year, he’d done what he could to rebuild his life, and now it was time to take the next step.
Ryan needed to find someone for more than a one-night stand and, it seemed, someone who wanted to submit to him, since he’d found he really liked some of this BDSM stuff, especially the dominating side. He felt like a fool on the bar scene, and he really wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy, though that had been his MO lately. He’d never even known there was a whole formal “thing” like BDSM until his friend Jack, a fellow professor at the college where Ryan taught English literature, had asked one day, while Ryan was lamenting his pathetic sex life, if he’d ever engaged in any BDSM activities. Ryan had been taken aback, to say the least. He’d thought that kind of thing was limited to porn. Real people didn’t get kinky like that, did they? Hell, he’d gotten married at twenty-two and had been with his ex-wife for almost fifteen years. It appeared he didn’t know shit about sex—kinky sex scene in particular.
Ryan had been shocked when Jack offered to let Ryan see what his submissive, Callie, and Jack did in some of their “scenes” so that Ryan could get a feel for what domination was all about. Jack didn’t allow any actual intercourse or other sexual contact between him and Callie when they got together, which Ryan totally understood, so there was a little bit missing from what he wanted to experience after reading how great the sex could be.
But just watching the way Jack dealt with Callie, and then having the opportunity to try a bunch of things out himself during subsequent play sessions with the two of them, had given Ryan a light at the end of what had been a very dark tunnel since the ex had walked out on him. He believed he’d finally found what he was looking for; what he’d been missing his entire life. The high from a woman submitting to him was the most natural, yet most powerful thing he’d ever felt, and Callie wasn’t even his submissive. What would that feel like?
Shaking out of his reverie, Ryan decided reinforcements were in order and called Jack. “Hey, man.”
“What’s up?”
“Am I interrupting anything?” He was almost afraid to ask.
Jack laughed. “If you’re asking me if Callie is tied up somewhere waiting for me to fuck her six ways to Sunday, no, you’re not interrupting anything. That’s later.”
“TMI, dude, TMI. Anyway, I need help.”
“You need a lot more than help.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, I need to know what a Dom should wear to this Halloween party.”
“Uh, clothes? Usually only the submissives are naked.”
“Are you going to help or not? You’re the one who said I should go to this.” Ryan knew Jack was just messing with him, but as this Halloween party was his “coming out” of sorts as a Dom, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.
“All right. I’ll take pity on you. What types of costumes are you looking at? What will make you feel comfortable?”
Ryan snorted. “Not sure anything can do that. I’m nervous as hell.”
“Remember, a Dom needs to portray an air of confidence. If you don’t, no sub is going to trust you enough to play with you.”
“I know. And by the time I get there, I’m sure I’ll be a lot calmer. I’ve been pretty good when I’ve played with Callie, haven’t I?”
Ryan could practically see the smirk on Jack’s face.
“Yeah, but I was there too. She knows better than to disobey me and that I would keep the play safe. Goes back to that trust issue. Plus, you didn’t have any sexual contact or anything that might’ve freaked you out. Speaking of that, you got your medical test results, right?”
“Yeah. Sent them to the club the other day.”
“Good. They won’t let you in unless you can prove you’re clean. Now, back to the costume. How about something easy like a police officer or a soldier? Some take-charge type of thing would be fitting.”
“Oh, I like the idea of a soldier.” Soldiers were powerful, respected—everything Ryan thought a Dom should project. It was the perfect costume to convey the image he wanted during his first public play. Ryan quickly typed that into the search engine of the costume store. “Awesome. They have a pretty cool one.”
“See how simple it is, once you’re not freaking out? I know this is all new and a little scary for you, but remember, kinksters are people too.”
“Yeah, yeah. You guys are going to be there, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t let you go into the big, bad world of BDSM all by yourself. Also, I’m your sponsor, so you can’t get in without me anyway this first time.”
“Okay, cool. See you then. And thanks for talking me off the ledge.”
“Anytime.”
Jack hung up, and Ryan looked over the costume specs. It had a camouflage shirt and pants, along with a set of dog tags. He had black boots already for when he did stuff around the house. Though he wasn’t imposing by any means at five-nine and one-eighty, he wasn’t tiny either. Hopefully the costume would make him look like a bit of a badass. He flexed his bicep. Maybe allow him to show off the muscles he was just starting to develop with regular workouts at the gym over the past several months.
* * * *
On Halloween night Ryan dressed in his costume and drove to the club. Jack and Callie were waiting just inside the doors, and when Jack saw him approach, he spoke to the bouncer, who waved Ryan through without a word. Jack was clad as Zorro, and Callie’s dress, if you could call it that, was liberally scored with slashes. It looked more like a bunch of black bandages than anything else, and Ryan wondered how long Jack would allow her to remain clothed. If he knew Jack—and he felt he did after playing with him several times and spending hours talking to him about BDSM and a whole host of other topics—not long.
He wasn’t sure what was appropriate to say to Callie, so he forced his gaze away from her and greeted Jack, who grinned.
“You can tell her she looks hot. It’s not like you’ve never seen her naked.”
Ryan smiled, relaxing. He pivoted back to her. “You look hot, Callie.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Shall we?”
Jack gestured toward the door at the end of the short hall, and Ryan could hear a bass beat pounding from the other side. He nodded, swallowing thickly. Ryan needn’t have worried, though. As soon as he stepped into the room and looked around, his nerves settled.
I’m home.
The people around him were engaged in all manner of things, but even a cursory glance at the various scenes playing out before him made him finally feel like he was normal. He wasn’t a freak for wanting sex and control like this, despite what his ex-wife had said when he’d suggested some pretty mild stuff to spice up their sex life.
“What do you think?” his friend shouted over the music.
“It’s fucking perfect.” Ryan couldn’t have kept that note of awe out of his voice even if he’d tried.
Jack laughed. “I figured you’d say that. I’ll give you a tour, but we need to do one thing first.”
“What’s that?”
“Lose the shirt. You’ll look way more Dom-ish without it.”
“Dom-ish?” Callie repeated with a chuckle.
“You behave before I decide to leash you,” Jack threatened. “Or maybe we can give Ryan here some more practice with that paddle you hate so much.”
She looked down. “Whatever would please you, Master.”
“Seeing your beautiful ass bright red and ready to be fucked would please me greatly, but we need to babysit Ryan for a bit longer before we can play.”
Ryan pulled off his shirt and stuffed it into his brand-new toy bag. Who would’ve thought a duffel bag he got at an academic conference would come in handy to hold the instruments of pain and pleasure he’d spent a small fortune on?
He followed Jack through the club as the other man pointed out the public play area, the theme rooms, and the staircase to the private rooms upstairs. Then they all went to the bar, which served no alcohol so as to keep the clubgoers sober for play, as Jack explained in answer to Ryan’s puzzled question. They procured soft drinks—drinks were included in the price of the membership—and found a comfy couch that was close enough to the public play area that Ryan had a good view of several scenes taking place. Jack and Ryan sat, and Callie settled on a cushion in front of her Dom.
“That girl,” Jack said, pointing to a submissive tied to a St. Andrew’s cross as a man whipped her from thighs to shoulders, “is a hard-core masochist. As you can see, she’s not wearing a collar, so she’s not owned, but stay away from her. Until you get more comfortable with impact play, all you’ll do is frustrate both of you.”
Ryan nodded, forcing himself not to wince as the man laid another welt on her ass.
“That one,” his friend continued with a jerk of his head at another submissive, “is a horrible topper-from-the-bottom. She’s definitely not a good fit for you as a beginner. I’m not really sure why any Dom would play with her. It would drive me batty to have a sub questioning my every order.”
Jack dismissed a few more for one reason or another as they sipped their beverages. There weren’t a ton of subs running around without collars, and Ryan was beginning to believe none of them would pass Jack’s muster.
“She’s a pretty one,” Jack remarked, and Ryan followed his gaze. He nearly swallowed his can of soda pop whole. Pretty didn’t begin to describe the woman. She was a few inches shorter than him, from what he could tell in his current position, and had enough meat on her bones to be curvy. If he was going to be tying a woman up and fucking the hell out of her, he wanted to be sure her ribs wouldn’t crack at the slightest provocation.
Her long brown hair was piled on top of her head, leaving the slim column of her neck exposed. Ryan loved to nibble on women’s necks, and if he had this one restrained, he’d happily spend hours torturing her in that spot. She was wearing what looked like a harem girl outfit, with a jeweled bra and flouncy, gauzy pants. From the looks of things, Ryan was pretty sure she was naked underneath them.
Jack had been speaking with Callie but straightened up. “Callie said her name is Lisette, and she’s an experienced submissive who hasn’t been to the club as far as Callie knows since her split with her Dom a while back. She’s not owned, as you can see from the fact she’s not collared. The lack of a collar doesn’t always mean a sub is not owned, but at open parties like this, all owned submissives must be collared. As you know,” he continued with a grin in Callie’s direction, “some of us can be possessive bastards, and it cuts down on potential problems.”
“Makes sense,” Ryan murmured. His friend’s eyes suddenly widened a little in anticipation, and Ryan turned in the direction of his gaze.
“Hey, do you mind if we go take advantage of that spanking bench? At these parties, equipment doesn’t stay empty long.”
“No, go ahead.”
Jack helped Callie up and landed a hard swat on her ass. “Go get it for us, pet. I’ll be right over.” He turned to Ryan. “Feel free to watch us or anyone else. We should be back within a half hour or so. Callie’s been naughty lately and needs a good dose of the belt.”
Winking, he walked away, and Ryan laughed. Before Jack had agreed to bring Ryan here for public play, he’d insisted on several private sessions at the house he and Callie shared, so Ryan knew Callie’s favorite implement was the belt. He doubted she would be too upset if Jack used it tonight.
A completely naked woman, save for a collar, came by and took their empty soda cans. Ryan gave her a small smile but kept his attention focused on the scenes unfolding around him. Jack was busy tying Callie to the spanking bench, and the masochistic woman was still being whipped—Ryan couldn’t hold back his wince this time at a particularly hard strike—and a male submissive was going to town on his Mistress’s pussy like he was mining for gold. Turning away from them, he saw a female submissive strapped to what Jack had called a bondage table with cane marks decorating her ass in perfectly spaced lines and her Dom’s dick in her mouth. He’d never tried caning, but it looked interesting, if a little scary. Hell, almost everything looked interesting right now.
Ryan continued to watch as Jack bared Callie’s ass and started out lightly flicking the belt across it. He’d explained to Ryan how important it was to warm the bottom up by bringing the blood to the surface to prevent bruising, and Ryan had spent long hours in the past couple of weeks practicing with a pillow and the strap he’d ordered along with the other stuff Jack had said he’d need to be able to play. The club had a nice selection of implements lined up on the walls of the public play area, but Jack had recommended he get used to his own so he didn’t make a mistake and hurt a submissive.
He was just about to rise and make his way back to the bar when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The submissive Callie had called Lisette knelt directly in front of him, a bottle of water laid on her upturned palms. Ryan raised an eyebrow.
Copyright 2012, Cassandra Carr
Buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/master-class.html (won’t be live until Tuesday)
My links:


Cassandra Carr

“It’s a job. It’s not a hobby.” — Rosellen Brown


Website: http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCassandraCarr
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cassandra_carr

Guests: Cassandra Carr and Cristal Ryder

Today I offered to spotlight authors Cassandra Carr and Cristal Ryder. They have a new anthology out, titled Close Contact and I am happy to help throw a little attention their way…

Oh. And there’s an excerpt, too.

Sybarite Seductions link: http://sybariteseductions.com/anthologies/close-contact/

Hard-hitting contact sports don’t have the only sexy professional athletes. Does the strength and grace of golf, tennis and fencing instructors extend to lustier activities? Find out as they turn these classic sports into full-contact steamy sessions.

Service Ace by Cassandra Carr

Callum Giovanni’s professional tennis career is over. He’s trying not to be bitter about it, even though it means teaching women more interested in not messing up their hair and nails than a good service. Then Adriana Macy appears, claiming to be a novice, but Callum knows there’s more to her than meets the eye. How far does she want to take their personal match? The ball’s in her court.

Up to the Hilt by Cynthia Carr

Olympic fencing wunderkind Sebastian Como is Rina Rogers’ last resort to find someone who can instruct her toward her own Olympic medal. All her other trainers have balked, saying she is too impulsive, too unmanageable, too everything. Sebastian recognizes her talent and tells her he’ll take her all the way. But does that include his bed?

Playing Through by Cristal Ryder

A relationship is the last thing Lexie is looking for, especially one with a hot cowboy wanting golf lessons. It’s all she can do to keep her focus on the game and off Jay’s hard muscled body and devilishly sexy face. But the more lessons they have, the farther his sexy drawl gets under her skin.

Does he feel the attraction too? Mother Nature forces them to seek shelter as the power of nature lets loose around them. Will they go primal and unleash their attraction for one another amidst the rawness of the Rocky Mountains?

Excerpt:

Cal and Adriana enjoyed a fun dinner, their flirting progressing as the meal went on. She needed to make her move, especially since Cal seemed to share her interest. He paid for the meal and they left. Once at the car, he handed her in and then got in the other side. Now or never. She reached over the center console and palmed his cock.

“Shite!” He looked over, his eyes wide.

“Look, I’m not normally this forward, but I want you.” Unable to hide a small smile as his cock swelled in her hand, she looked away. “Well, for more than your tennis expertise.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you often have women who don’t want you for sex stroking your dick?”

“I don’t often have women stroking my dick for any reason.”

She faced him. “Really?”

“Really.” He swallowed.

“I guess it’s both of our lucky days then.”

To find out more about Cassandra or to connect with her:

To find out more about Cristal or to connect with her:

 

Guest Post: Cassandra Carr

The Five Stages of Editing

by Cassandra Carr

 

You’ve probably heard writers talking about being in their “writing cave” or “editing cave”, but did you ever wonder what exactly we’re doing in there? You can see it involves a lot of caffeine and swearing, but other than that, the process is a mystery, right? I’m here to give you some insight into the editing process, told strictly from my point of view. Your mileage may vary.

 

First stage: Denial

I’ve got plenty of time to get those edits in. Rather than doing them, I think I’ll watch more episodes of Queer As Folk (great show, by the way, if you’ve never seen it).

 

Second stage: Anger

Why did that pesky editor give me so freaking many changes to make?!? Doesn’t she know I need to finish this disc of Queer As Folk so I can send it back to Netflix? Surely my writing doesn’t need this amount of work!

 

Third stage: Bargaining

I bet if I email my editor and tell her I’m working REALLY HARD on the changes, she’ll give me an extension to finish them. Also, if my family doesn’t eat a few meals because I’m too busy editing to make dinner, well, we could all use fewer calories, right?

 

Fourth stage: Depression

I’m NEVER going to get these changes done. My book release will be pushed back, my editor will be mad at me, and my contract will be terminated. Why did I ever think I could do this?

 

Fifth stage: Acceptance

Whew! Finally got them! Now I can send the manuscript back to my editor and emerge from my editing cave triumphant! Then I will pour myself a huge martini and watch the entirety of Queer As Folk that just arrived in my mailbox.

 

Yeah, that’s pretty much how it happens…but don’t tell any of my editors that. They all think I’m working my fingers to the bone! We’ll let this be our little secret, k?

 

BLURB FOR IMPACT:

Professional bull rider Conner Raub hides a secret from the world. He’s a Dom. When he meets a submissive on tour who pulls at his Dom tendencies, he fights to deny his true self, believing his colleagues will condemn his lifestyle.

 

Jessica Talbot is new to the BDSM scene and the bull riding tour, but after seeing Conner come to the aid of a submissive being mistreated in a club, she sets out to have him for her own. After their first night together she asks him to train her to submit and he refuses, afraid to mix business with pleasure. But Jessica isn’t deterred. She’ll do whatever it takes to make him realize he can have it all—a career, true love, and the BDSM lifestyle he craves.

 

EXCERPT:

Conner packed up the last of his stuff and threw it into the duffel bag. The first event of the new season was starting in a few days and he was flying out to New York City later tonight. He was looking forward to meeting up with his best friend Brady Parrish. His mind flashed back to the previous evening at Decadence. He wished he could tell Brady about the BDSM lifestyle he wanted. Brady was a great guy and wouldn’t judge him, so maybe he would some day, but how do you bring something like that up?

Hey dude, pass me the rosin. By the way, I like to tie women up, spank their asses red, and then have them suck my cock to thank me for it.

He rolled his eyes.

Yeah, right. No big deal.

He couldn’t tell anyone on the tour about his lifestyle preferences. The NBT wasn’t exactly the most liberal-minded sport around. After all, many of the riders, as well as the officials and executives were from the Bible-beltin’ South. It was bad enough evidently many of the riders had been aware he and Brady sometimes shared women—he didn’t need word of this getting out. It could ruin his career. The NBT was all about family and hardworking values, not Doms and whips and spreader bars.

His cell phone rang, jolting him back to the present. “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Nice greeting,” Brady replied.

“Sorry,” Conner answered. “My mind was a million miles away. What’s up, dude?”

“Just wanted to find out what time you’re getting in tomorrow. I’ve got a rental, so I can swing by and pick you up.”

“You don’t have to do that. I was gonna take a cab.”

“Not necessary. Besides, then you can buy me dinner. What time does your flight get in?”

“Hold on.” He rummaged through his stuff until he produced his ticket. “Nine fifteen. US Air, Kennedy.”

“Cool. See you then.”

* * * * *

Jessica loaded her computer into her messenger bag and headed out onto the event floor. She still had four stock contractors to find before she could relax and watch the competition. Her co-liaison had said the first event was always crazy and this one was certainly living up to its hype. Between the new contractors, new bulls, and the new her—well, not exactly new, but new to this “first event” stuff, she was about to blow a gasket.

Jessica had known when she’d taken the position she might encounter some old-fashioned attitudes regarding her ability to do her job, but she was still astounded at how often it happened. She knew bulls—her daddy was a cattle rancher. She knew all about the different breeds, and why one breed was preferred for one job over another. She understood which made a good bull-riding bull, and how to pick one in a draft based on what you needed to get out of the ride. But it didn’t matter. Some of these assholes saw her big boobs and figured she was here as eye candy.

Spotting Jack Tucker, she hurried after him. “Mr. Tucker,” she called. She was gaining on him but he appeared to be ignoring her. “Mr. Tucker.  I’m Jessica, the liaison from the NBT. We met last season? I need to go over a couple of things with you.” She’d just caught up with him by this time and she glanced over to see if he was listening at all.

“I turned in my paperwork,” he replied as he kept walking. “Now get outta my way, girlie. I’ve got stuff to do.” He spit a stream of tobacco right in front of her and Jessica had to consciously try not to flinch. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen tobacco being spit, but to know he’d purposely done it right where she’d be walking—ick. He’d done a similar thing last year and was obviously trying to intimidate her, but was barking up the wrong tree if he thought she was going to slink away like some chastised dog.

“Mr. Tucker,” she began, trying to keep her voice down and even. “You left a few pieces of your paperwork blank and I need to have those parts filled in.”

“I’ve been doin’ paperwork for the tour for longer ’n you’ve been alive, girlie,” he said. “I’ve never had a problem.”

Jessica took a deep breath and tried again. “We’re putting the bulls into a database. Without information like year of birth, weight, etcetera, our database will be incomplete. If you just take a few moments of your time to look at your records I’ll leave you alone.”

He stopped and turned to her. “This tour’s gettin’ to be more of a pain in the ass every year.” He stabbed a finger in her general direction. “People like you comin’ in and tryin’ to change everything. Modernize, you say. Well, I say if the system ain’t broke, don’t fuck with it.” Jessica decided she’d had enough after she saw his pompous expression.

“Mr. Tucker, you have one hour to have this information to my colleague, Rick O’Meara, in the Official’s Room. If you don’t, I will disqualify your bulls.” Spinning on her heel, she began to walk away, forcing herself not to run. Before she got ten feet, though, a rough hand gripped her arm.

“What did you say, you little bitch?” He squeezed and she gasped from the pain.

Before she could process anything further Conner was there, prying the man’s fingers off her arm. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”

She looked up at him. His lips were set in a thin line and his eyes were as dark and stormy as one of the Texas tornadoes she’d seen dozens of times living on the Panhandle.

Tucker released her. “I’d suggest you go find the information the lady requested,” Conner growled, getting in the other man’s personal space. Since Conner had a good eight inches and at least seventy pounds on the man, he backed down immediately.

“This isn’t over,” he told her, then turned and stalked away.

Conner lifted her arm. “He hurt you.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not a big deal,” she answered. A profound sense of gratitude swept through her body and as she stared up at his eyes, which had darkened even further as he looked back at her, she felt as if she could drown in them. Normally she’d prefer to fight her own battles, but she didn’t know what Tucker would have done to her if Conner hadn’t intervened. She shivered.

Her skin felt searing hot where his fingers touched it, and whether from the leftover adrenaline of the situation or from her reaction to him she didn’t know, but her breath was coming fast and furious, making her look like a panting fool. His gaze flickered down to her breasts and then slowly returned to her face.

“I saw the whole thing. You have to report him. He can’t be treating you like that. You were just doing your job and he wasn’t doing his.”

She was mortified he’d witnessed such an embarrassing situation. Jessica was afraid he would go tell the tour she couldn’t handle herself and she’d be out of a job. Even with all the crap she had to take, she loved this job. If she could’ve been a bull rider she would’ve, but she’d been cursed with the wrong DNA, so she did what she could to be close to the sport. She looked down, sighing. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him again. Her pussy heated as she remembered how he’d done the same thing to his sub that night at Decadence. “I am worried about it, and you’re not gonna waylay me.”

“Conner, please.” She bit her lip to keep from saying anything else. She had a feeling saying ‘Conner, please kiss me, please make me yours, I want you’ wouldn’t go over very well.

He took a giant step back then and dropped his hand. “I apologize. I don’t even know your name and here I am touching you. I have no right.”

You can touch me all you want…

But since she couldn’t say that, instead she held out her hand. “Jessica Talbot.”

“Conner Raub, but I guess you know that,” he replied, grinning as he took her hand in his much larger, work-roughened one.

“Yes,” she confessed, her face flaming. She hoped her interest wasn’t written all over her face.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. You new?”

“I came on board around the middle of last season when Steven had his heart attack.”

Conner nodded. “Steven worked too hard. It looks like you do too.” He studied her face and then his eyes narrowed. “Do you have the power to disqualify his bulls?”

“No, but if I told the officials to they would.”

“Just like that, without an explanation?”

“Of course not, but if I told them he withheld information I requested they would disqualify him. They’re cracking down on that stuff this season.”

“So you were ready to make an example outta him?”

Jessica shrugged. “I did what I had to do.” And now what she needed to do was get away from Conner Raub. “Anyway, I still need to find three other contractors. Thank you for coming to my rescue. I hope we can keep this between us—I don’t want people thinking I can’t handle myself around here.”

Conner’s jaw tightened. “I don’t like the idea of him getting away with mauling you.” He stepped closer and Jessica felt her nipples tighten against the lacy confines of her bra. Thankfully she needed a sturdy bra to give her large breasts the support they needed, so her arousal didn’t show. That would’ve been more than she could’ve handled. Yes, she wanted Conner, but not like this. She needed time to figure out how to seduce him in her own way, in her own time.

“I’ll let you go, on one condition,” he told her. “I wanna see your arm later tonight. If it’s bruised you’re gonna report him. I’ll come with you.” His tone brooked no argument and her sex flooded with more moisture. His nostrils flared and her face flamed. Could he smell her?

She turned away, calling over her shoulder, “Okay, thanks again,” as she fled as fast as her legs would take her.

Conner felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest by an ornery bull. He’d been walking back to the riders’ prep area after registering when he’d come upon Jessica and that guy. When she’d said she’d disqualify the asshole’s bulls he’d silently cheered, loving the way she’d stood up to him. He wanted a submissive in the bedroom, but a girl with spunk outside it was so much more entertaining.

But the guy had gone and grabbed her and Conner had seen red. After he’d sent the guy packing Jessica had looked up at him like some kind of hero and his dick had instantly gone rock hard. Trying to avoid her eyes he’d looked down, only to see her gorgeous, lush breasts heaving and he’d almost lost it. Only through sheer force of will he’d garnered through his years of being a Dom had he been able to drag his gaze back up to her face.

Then he’d touched her chin, and she’d said please and bitten her lip, and he’d moved away so fast he’d probably left skid marks with his boots lest he act on what his brain had started screaming at him. In that moment he’d seen what this woman was—a natural submissive. He’d automatically reverted to how a Dom would treat a sub. He’d apologized for touching her without permission. But all she’d done was stuck out her hand to shake his, so he’d ignored his still-screaming brain and introduced himself as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

And he thought he’d gotten away with his sanity until he’d told her he wanted to see her arm later. Even from a foot or more away he’d smelled the force of her arousal after he’d issued the command—another sign she was submissive. He’d very nearly lost his cool and then she was gone.

Rubbing his face, he continued toward the prep area. When he arrived, Brady was already there. “Dude, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Fine,” Conner answered. He placed his gear bag on the table in front of him and began to pull out everything to inspect it.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah.” He figured that was the easiest explanation he could give for why he looked shaken up. He sure as hell felt shaken up, but he needed to get his head in the game fast or this event would be all over for him.

Brady left him alone while they finished their prep work. Then they took their stuff up to the area behind the chutes and settled in to watch. When Brady’s turn rolled around, Conner provided his usual assistance getting him situated on his bull and helping him loop his bull rope underneath the bull’s massive girth and bring it up the other side. He was pushing the bull away from the near fence when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He ignored the feeling for the moment and concentrated on his friend. When Brady nodded he let go and Brady and the bull went careening out of the chute.

Brady held on for the full eight seconds and then scrambled off the back of the still-bucking bull, landing on his shoulder and rolling left, away from the pounding hooves. He sprang up and ran toward the rail. Conner reached his hand out and grabbed Brady’s biceps, ready to pull him over if need be. The bull fighters got the beast corralled, though, and both he and Brady directed their attention to the scoreboard.

“Ladies and gentlemen, that was last year’s winner, Brady Parrish, the King of Rodeo, ridin’ Extremist.” There was a pause. “Looks like Brady’s picking up where he left off last year. He scores an 89.5. That puts Brady in first place with five riders remaining.”

“Good for you,” Conner said, clapping his best friend on the back. “But I’m gonna beat your ass.” Finally he allowed himself to turn around. Standing not thirty feet from him, looking at him as if he were a dessert buffet and she was a starving chocoholic, was Jessica. She licked her lips and Conner barely stifled a groan. His dick took notice and he ruthlessly forced it back down. Riding with a hard-on was a bad idea for a whole bunch of reasons, not the least of which was the riders didn’t wear cups and getting bounced around on a bull while sporting a boner was bound to be a very unpleasant experience. He allowed himself to stare her down for a moment before touching the brim of his hat in a silent salute and turning back to the chutes.

When it was his turn to ride he was thankfully able to focus and stayed on for the full eight seconds, scoring a 90 and taking over first place. After completing his turn and picking up his bull rope from one of the bull fighters, he climbed over the rail. Now his ride was done, and he wanted to see Jessica’s arm. He had a feeling there would be a clear handprint visible on her pale skin. While that thought would have turned him on if it was his handprint on her ass and she was a willing participant, it made him want to kill if that bastard had hurt her. How often did she get manhandled? He intended to get some answers.

Looking around, though, he didn’t see her. Accepting congratulations from his fellow riders, he continued to scan the area around him. Where had she gone off to? Now he was pissed. She knew he wanted a look at her arm. Was she avoiding him? After the look she’d given him a few minutes ago, that possibility seemed unlikely, but maybe she’d run like a scared jackrabbit. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d scared off a woman when they got a peek at his dominant side. Maybe it was for the best. He damn well shouldn’t be opening that can of worms while he was on tour. But man, she made him want to.

Jessica hid behind a sponsor sign, her back pressed to the cool plastic. What was she doing? She knew Conner wanted to see her arm and instinctively he wouldn’t rest until he’d tracked her down, and yet here she was, hiding from him. Isn’t this what she wanted—him coming to her on his own? She wiped her damp palms on her jeans and raised her eyes to the roof of the arena. Was she strong enough to do this? Was she strong enough to go after what she wanted?

She knew the draft would be starting soon and she had no choice but to face him then. She had to be there to note which bulls got drawn so she could deal with the contractors tomorrow. Grabbing her bag, she peeked out from behind the sign and then darted into the corridor.

“Thought you could avoid me?” A silky Texas drawl wound its way around her ear and she jumped.

“C-Conner,” she whispered. Clearing her throat, she continued. “I was going to the draft area.”

“Me too. I’ll walk with you.” He fell into line with her, making his long-legged stride shorter to match hers. “How’s your arm?”

“Fine, truly. Thank you for asking.” She bit her lip and looked away.

“Don’t do that.”

Her head whipped around. “Do what?”

“Bite your lip. It gives a man ideas.”

“Ideas?” God, she was turning into a parroting idiot…

“Yeah, ideas. Ideas me and any other warm-blooded man around here would have after lookin’ at your mouth. I don’t like it.” He glanced at her. “Dammit! You’re still doing it.”

She did, and the thought only excited her more. Her sex clenched hard and she gasped at the onslaught of sensation.

He stopped and looked down at her. His eyes blazed with lust and something else—anger? Was he angry with her? And if so, why?

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve never,” he paused and took another breath, “ever met a woman like you, Jessica. I hardly know you but you make my blood boil.” He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them they had cleared. Her brow lowered in confusion. “But as much as I’d like to act on the attraction I feel for you, I can’t. I won’t. You work for the tour. I can’t get involved with someone who’s employed by the tour. If it went south my career could be ruined and I can’t abide that. Have a good night.” He turned and continued down the hall, his long legs creating distance between them quickly. What had just happened?

Jessica finished her work for the night and called her neighbor Viola to check on her apartment. Viola was watching it for her while she was on tour. Jessica’s daddy had pitched a fit when she’d decided to hold on to the place, saying it was stupid for her to spend money on an apartment she wasn’t even at eight months out of the year, but Jessica treasured her independence and had dug in her heels.

“Hello?”

“Viola? You sound tired. Did I wake you?” Viola wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but Jessica still felt a little guilty having her bringing in her mail and watering her plants for weeks at a time between the periods Jessica could be at home.

“No, I was just absorbed in my reading.”

Jessica smiled. Viola went through murder mysteries like most people went through oxygen. “All right then. How are things?”

“Oh, fine. But my life is boring, you know that. Tell me what’s going on in yours. Did you talk to that boy yet?”

Jessica had told Viola about Conner during her last visit with the woman before leaving for New York City. She’d been bursting at the seams wanting to talk about him, and since most of her friends from high school or community college were wrapped up in their own lives she hardly talked to them anymore. Of course, she didn’t tell Viola where she’d met him—she wasn’t ready to discuss her sexual proclivities with anybody, least of all her older friend.

“Yes, actually, I did. But it didn’t go quite like I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

Jessica winced as she recalled Conner’s face. “He happened along when I was trying to deal with an ornery subcontractor. They’re the guys from each farm who handle the bulls. Anyway, this guy is a real jerk. He wasn’t cooperating with me—giving me the information I need, so I threatened to disqualify his bulls. Well, he didn’t like that idea at all and grabbed my arm.”

“He did what?”

“It wasn’t that big a deal. Things like that happen sometimes.”

“Did you report him?”

“No. If I reported every guy who said or did something offensive I’d be reporting half the contractors on tour. It’s just part of life here.” She could feel Viola’s disapproval through the phone line, so she plowed ahead. “Anyway, Conner made me show him my arm. He got this look in his eye and I thought maybe he’d ask me out, but then he turned tail and ran. I don’t know what to think now. He seemed almost… I don’t know, angry or something.”

“That I can’t help you with. I never know what men are thinking. If I did maybe I’d be married right now.” Jessica made a dismissive noise and Voila laughed.

“Those men don’t know what they’re missing.”

“So what’re you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know. I guess wait and see how he reacts the next time I see him.”

“Probably as good a plan as any.”

“Listen, I should go. It’s late and I’m tired. The first event is always kind of crazy with everybody getting used to new rules, new staff…”

“You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“I promise.”

Jessica ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. Flopping down next to it, she blew out a loud breath. Why did Conner act so strangely around her? She resolved to find out.

Copyright 2012, Cassandra Carr

 

BIO:

Cassandra Carr is a multi-published erotic romance writer with Ellora’s Cave, Siren, and Loose Id who lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out on Twitter. For more information about Cassandra, check out her website at http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com, “like” her Facebook fan page at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCassandraCarr or follow her on Twitter athttp://www.twitter.com/Cassandra_Carr.

 

BUY LINK:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9842-impact.aspx

Thanksgiving and More…

I seem to be doing that a lot lately, huh? Adding ‘and More…’ to my blog posts. But, I have so much I want to say and unless I write 2 or 3 posts in one day, it’s just easier to do it all at once.

So, first of all, to my American friends and counterparts, Happy Thanksgiving.

I have a lot to be thankful for this year. Family, friends, readers, health (minus the sinus infection I can’t get rid of), writing, a home, freedom… There’s a lot of hardship in our country and in the world and we need to remember the things we do have, the people we do have that enrich our lives and help share our burdens because there are many who don’t have anything or anyone.Be thankful for what and who you have…

If you are not celebrating Thanksgiving today, well, Happy Thursday! smiles…

Onto the more part of my post… Tomorrow I will be participating in a Black Friday blog hop. Myself and 19 or so other authors have gotten together to talk about Black Friday and any deals or shopping tips we may know of. We’re also giving away a Kindle Fire, and most of us if not all of us are giving copies of books and other such prizes. Click here for the details…

There’s also a HUGE holiday party happening over at Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews. A lot of authors with a lot of gifts being given and sharing holiday traditions, memories, recipes, etc… It’s a fun time and it’s going on through the end of December. You should check it out! Click the graphic below if you want see what it’s all about. I’ll be there on November 29th and on December 19th.

I have been writing, but not as much. One of these days, years actually, I’m going to learn that November and NaNoWriMo and I don’t really go well together. I need to stop. I’m not that kind of writer. I wish I were, but I’m not. I want to be, but I’m not sure I ever will be. It’s too much pressure for me. I write differently. Sometimes a lot in a short amount of time and sometimes a little in a very long period of time. It’s gets done. Maybe not on my timetable or your timetable but it does get done.

I will be concentrating in December on finishing up Trouble in the Making for a January release. I had wanted next weekend, but it’s just not going to happen and as I get into December, I want to concentrate on the release of Twisted Up. I am planning a little 10 day party and will give details as they come to me.

Revealed has done well and I’m thrilled beyond imagination at how many of you have written and commented that you want another story in the series. I have a feeling, y’all will keep wanting more as long as I’m willing to keep writing them. 😉 I don’t have a title and I don’t have a cover concept yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know and I’ll get started on it soon.

I will be reworking Sugar Rush soon as well for re-release. I’ve missed cowboy surfer Graham and snarky Jane and look forward to revisiting them. I am still working on Drive Shaft. I’m concerned about some of the business end of it and so while I’ll mull it over, what I want to do with it, what I think is best for you, my readers, I am still writing it. I love it so far… Alli is really out of her element at the moment.

That’s all on the update front for now. I need to get back to cooking… Have a great day, y’all!

~lissa