“You sure we should be doing this?” Even whispers sounded like yelling when all was quiet.
Bryson slanted a look at Walt. “I’m sure,” he said with finality. “It’s time for him to come to grips with this.”
Walt snorted. “I haven’t known him near as long as you have, but I have to say, I don’t think he wants to.”
“Tough shit, then,” Bryson returned hotly. And it was tough shit. For Jared. He’d been in charge of their lives for too long and continued to muck it up. Bryson and Walt had wanted to give Jared time and thought for sure Jared would come to his senses on his own. Evidently not. Jared could give a mule a run for his money in the stubborn department.
“He’ll say it won’t work, the three of us.” The uncertainty and edge of quiet resignation in Walt’s voice made Bryson’s chest ache. Walt wanted things to work out for all of them just as much as Bryson did. In his own way, maybe more so. While Jared and Bryson knew everything about each other, there was still so much for both of them to learn about Walt and vice versa.
“He’ll be wrong.” Bryson didn’t want to think about Jared not being able to come to grips with his feelings and to get over his damn fears and jealousy. Jared had never really told them what’d happened to make him want to end things. Bryson hadn’t thought he’d have to hold on to his questions for months, aching for answers.
“Even you don’t know that.”
“True, but I know him. I know how he feels about me, regardless of what he says. I know how he feels about you too. And it’s time for this shit to stop.” They couldn’t let Jared win or push them away again. Bryson loved him too much to let Jared’s fears win. Life just didn’t make sense without Jared, and while Bryson had been living without Jared on a day-to-day basis for three months, he wasn’t willing to live any more days without him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bryson saw Walt nod. They both knew this would be an uphill battle. Bry’s feelings for Jared hadn’t changed—not in the least?he just had feelings for Walt too. And he wasn’t the only one. Jared had feelings for the other man as well, which Walt returned in full measure.
Bryson turned the headlights off as he neared the house. He didn’t want Jared to refuse to open the door or greet them on the porch with a shotgun. Bryson stopped a good thousand feet or so from the front of the house and turned the engine off. They needed to be silent as the grave until the moment they knocked on the door. Or maybe…
“He might not answer the door, you know,” Walt said.
Bryson nodded at the other man’s whispered words, which mirrored Bry’s own thoughts moments earlier. “Hopefully he hasn’t started locking it.”
“Wouldn’t put it past him.”
They stepped quietly onto the wooden porch, and Bryson hesitated for just a second before opening the door and walking through as though he owned the place. He grinned in the darkness. Technically, he did. At least half of it. He and Walt had simply moved out to the small cabin when Jared refused to take the step that would have kept them all under the same roof and in the same bed. To tell them what was wrong.
The interior of the house was quiet, and save for the flicker of the television in the living room to the left, there was no other light. Three beer cans sat in a small pyramid on the coffee table, and Jared lay sleeping on the couch, one bare foot on the ground. He was shirtless, and his jeans were unbuttoned. He’d lost weight in the last few months, and the snoring he used to do had all but ceased. Something about that familiar sound being gone made Bryson sad.
Jared hadn’t been overweight, just a wall of solid muscle, but after Bryson and Walt moved out, Jared had worked himself just shy of exhaustion. It was how he battled being upset. Instead of talking things out or confronting what was wrong, he worked and slept and drank. It kind of pissed Bryson off, but in the past, given some time, Jared would usually get to a place where he was willing to talk. It seemed now that Bryson was going to have to force Jared into it.
“What’s the plan now?” Walt asked, quietly gathering up the beer cans.
“Wake his ass up,” Bryson offered to Walt’s retreating back. He leaned over Jared, unable to resist the other man’s lips. They were full and soft and split and bruised in the right corner where Bryson had punched him earlier. He tried to feel bad about it but didn’t.
He could kiss those lips now, though, and he did. The touch was tender, barely there, but enough that Jared shifted in his sleep.
Bryson missed sleeping with Jared in a way that sleeping with another man would never take the place of. Jared was his first love, his true love, his soul mate. Walt was as well, but it was a different kind of love. It was hard and rough and lustful. He could probably on some level live without Walt if he had to, but there was no way in hell he could ever live without Jared. That he’d tried to abide by Jared’s wishes for the last three months was testament to how much the other man meant to him. But Bryson was tired of it, tired of missing Jared, and he was going to make the stubborn cowboy see reason even if it killed all three of them.
Walt slipped silently back into the room and behind Bryson, his hands finding Bry’s hips. At this angle, with Bry bent over Jared as he was, he could continue kissing Jared, and Walt could slide easily into Bryson’s ass were they not dressed.
The ridge of Walt’s cock rubbed insistently against Bryson. “You want this?” Walt asked as his hand crept around and down the front of Bryson’s jeans to cup the cock straining there.
“Yes,” Bryson groaned, his mouth inches away from Jared’s lips. If the man woke up now, Bryson wasn’t sure what any of them would say. He had a fleeting image in his head that they would all be still as statues. Jared would be the first to move, erupting up from the couch in outrage, and Bryson wouldn’t be able to blame him. To keep that from happening, Bryson straightened and leaned back into Walt’s chest. Walt didn’t let go of Bryson’s cock, and Bryson didn’t ask him to.
“I know you love him,” Walt whispered against Bryson’s ear. “I know you love me too, but if it will—”
Bryson turned suddenly, nearly knocking them both off balance. He grabbed hold of Walt’s face in his hands and kissed the man soundly. “No,” he spoke softly against Walt’s lips, then pulled back, but stayed in Walt’s immediate, personal space. “No buts, no ifs. You aren’t leaving. I’m not letting you go. That’s not an option, Walt. Do you hear me? That’s not an option.”
“But letting me go was?”
Remember… Release day for this book is tomorrow, October 23.
Jared and Bryson started their life together by leaving their childhood homes to make their way west. Ending up in a small community near Livingston, Montana, with a small horse ranch, life is just about perfect for the two men until Jared gives Walt, a Native American drifter and horse trainer, a ride.
Sparks fly in the truck cab and when Jared gets him home, Walt finds himself caught between two hot-blooded cowboys, a place he never expected to be and one he doesn’t want to leave. Their idyllic ménage of love and lust hits the skids though when Jared experiences jealousy and fear. He issues an ultimatum to Bryson and Walt…either they leave, or he will.
Hoping Jared will come to his senses with time and space, Bryson and Walt wait. But after three months, Jared hasn’t budged. On his birthday, Bryson and Walt steal into the house they all once shared and wake him with a kiss, a grope, a thrust of hard bodies, and a birthday spanking he will never forget.
Will Jared be able to conquer his doubts and insecurities, or will he lose the only two people who will fight to keep him?
Ideas When You Least Expect Them
I’m often asked where do find ideas. I find them everywhere and sometimes they find me.
My most recent book, Claimed by Dragons, co-authored with Katalina Leon, came from a visit to Salem MA.
My husband and I wanted to visit Salem during October when we knew the town would be full of the Halloween spirit. The shops were hopping with things to do. If you wanted your palm read or a tarot reading, Salem was the place to be. If you wanted to be spooked, you could be.
My teenager and her two best friends were along for the trip with us. They visited a shop where the owner told them to pick a stone out of a black velvet bag. She instructed the girls to make a wish and return the stone to nature and their wish would come true.
When I told Kat about this, we both said, “Wouldn’t that make for a fun book.” One book idea turned into four and so began the Bag of Tricks series. Four women on a reunion in Salem. Four stones that will lead them to their true love.
Most of the time I’m not looking for ideas, they just seem to find me. :o)
I’d be happy to give away a copy of my book Claimed by Dragons. Just leave a comment and a valid contact email. I’ll pick a winner on Wednesday.
Website | Blog
It’s been a very long month. I know it’s only the 15th but I’m telling y’all, it has been a very long, hell of a month.
I have done multiple rounds of edits on both Malachi’s Word and Double Up. I’ve written half of the holiday book for Loose Id, More Than This. I have several more days to write the second half. I also have 2 other stories I’m working on. One is being written, the other is a chapter by chapter edit and revision with the help of a reader/blogger/friend who recently sent me an email about the characters in my books and how she relates to them. It was inspiring to say the least…
I’ve been up late, way outside of my usual routine. I’m to the point of exhaustion and…wait for it…even coffee isn’t helping. I know. I know. But it’ll get better and coffee will be working its magic again soon.
In the meantime, y’all will notice over the next couple months that this here blog will have a lot more activity though not all from me. Brandy, with a little help from me, has scheduled guests to come visit. And while she’s been doing that, she’s also scheduled be to go forth and blog elsewhere in several small blog tours. One in October to celebrate the release of Double Up and one in November to celebrate the print release of Twisted Up.
For now, that’s all I’ve got. I need to get to work… Several thousand words to add to the WIP before kick-off at noon of my Florida State Seminoles.
Y’all have a good one.
There’s no theme song for this today’s snippet. You’ll just have to come up with one on your own. The next few weeks are going to find me writing like a mad woman with a September 18th deadline, home schooling starting on September 4th, and College Football starting Thursday, August 30th.
I have got some amazing books planned for all my readers. Promise. Some you’ve been waiting on and some you’ve never heard o, including two that were plotted while I was on road trips this month. But, because I have a holiday book to write in September, I thought perhaps I’d find a snippet from my holiday book a couple of years ago…
She was going home with him. She couldn’t believe it. When was the last time she’d gone home with a man? Or had a man go home with her? Holli wasn’t sure she could remember that far back. She wasn’t quite sure this particular instance counted, but…
It was the second time since she’d been pulled over that she’d been in his squad car. This time, though, she was sitting up front and not in the back behind the cage. In all her thirty-five plus years, she’d never gotten so much as a speeding ticket and had never been arrested. If she wasn’t so bone tired, so damned horny, or feeling so freakin’ gross from not having had a shower in — how many hours had it been? Too many for her to remember without the clock in front of her. She knew there was some humor in this whole situation; she simply felt too much like shit to find it.
Just the thought of how tired she was and of curling up in a warm bed had her yawning. Would she be sleeping in a bed? Or on the couch? Did he have a second bedroom? Did it matter? She looked over at him. Yeah, it did matter. It would matter a lot more when she was rested and fed.
Then she’d see about feasting on him.
His profile was beautiful. He was beautiful. His face had that guy next door handsomeness that was just over the top, but his eyes were so bright and fun and compelling. He was easy to smile and laugh, open, and very kind.
And she wanted to fuck him. Officer Hunky indeed.
She wanted to be naughty with him. She wanted to get down and dirty with him. She wanted to snuggle into his arms and sleep with him. He was exactly the kind of man she didn’t let herself get involved with, but again, not that many that looked like him had ever been interested in her. He was the good, way-too-good-to-be-true-in-the-long-run kind — she didn’t do short runs very well — so she stayed away from the sexy men that made her blood boil when it was ten below outside.
But just this once. During this season. On her vacation. She wanted to fuck him.
It wasn’t often she met men she wanted to fuck either, but this one — oh hell yes. He wanted her too. That was a shock in and of itself. Just looking at him and knowing what she must look like right then, it was a wonder he even wanted her in the same car. In general, though, he wasn’t usually the kind of man who would want her. He was toned and lean and perfect to look at, and she was curvy — like way, way curvy — a little pudgy in some areas, and truthfully pretty average looking. But she wasn’t going to second-guess or question or bemoan the wonderfully good luck landing her in his lap, so to speak. She —
“Is everything okay?”
She’d been staring. She knew that. She’d been all but drooling while imagining him naked. “Yes.”
“You were yawning and looked kind of dazed.”
Dazed with lust. “I’m pretty tired.”
“I bet. You can shower and sleep when we get to my place. It’s right up the road here.”
He pointed in the direction of “here.” Light snow was falling, but she could still see clearly through the windshield. A river flowed to the right, and small shops and businesses lined the left side of the road. It was a small, quaint town right outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The kind you’d see in a magazine or something in a Norman Rockwell painting.
Up meant up a hill, and then he was turning into a drive that wound around to the back of a rather large, Victorian-style house complete with a wraparound porch. “You live here?”
“I live in one part of the house, yes. It was gutted and renovated some years ago and was divided into four apartments. I live in one of the upstairs ones.”
“Yeah. It was once a summer home for a Southern family that would spend, well, the summers up here. When the last descendent passed away and no one came forth to claim it, the city was going to demolish it. Instead a local businessman bought it to use as rental property. And here we are. C’mon. Let’s get you inside.”
He helped her out of the car and grabbed her bags from the trunk. With a hand holding her elbow, he guided her around ice patches and unsafe mounds of snow. The inside of the house was warm, and the smell of gingerbread assaulted her senses. Her stomach rumbled its approval of the aroma. Michael laughed, and she was starving again, still, for something other than food. She was starving for Officer Hunky.
She’d separated him in her mind. Michael was the one caring for her. Officer Hunky was the one inciting her lust and making her want to do naughty things so he’d be forced to “arrest” her.
“Mrs. Collins bakes gingerbread all the time. All year long. Even in the summer. She’s one of those competitive bakers that you see traveling all over the country to participate in recipe contests.”
“Has she ever won?”
He guided her up the stairs to the second-floor landing. “Yes. She’s won a lot, and every time she comes home, she shows off her ribbons or asks me to come down to see her brand-new kitchen equipment.”
Holli chucked him on the chin and winked. “Well, aren’t you a good neighbor?”
“It doesn’t hurt that I’m pretty handy with basic installations either.”
“Oh I’m quite sure it doesn’t.”
They were talking, bantering, sort of flirting. They’d had an easy enough rapport behind bars, and it seemed to be translating to the outside world as well. She liked that they could relax and connect, that they could tease each other. She was fairly certain she could keep from throwing herself at him too. At least for a little while longer.
He unlocked the door to his apartment, and she immediately shivered as a cold gust of air hit her.
“Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping an arm around her to usher her inside. He closed the door behind them, then moved to a fireplace in the center of the large wall running the length of the living space.
At least her teeth weren’t chattering. “That’s beautiful. The scrollwork on the mantel, I mean.”
“Yeah it is. When I said the house was gutted, I mean gutted. All except the fireplaces. There are four total, all original to the house. One in each apartment, but there is gas heat as well. I generally don’t have need to use it myself, but with you here, I’ll be happy to turn it on so the bedroom gets warm.”
“It’s okay. I can sleep on the couch.”
“No. You’ll sleep in the bed.”
There was no arguing with that tone of voice. She knew from experience. He’d used the same one with her when she’d tried to argue her way out of being arrested and booked for fraud. Until he’d seen the clerical error on her social security number, he’d given her that implacable, in-charge voice. If she hadn’t been scared and pissed off, she’d have found it incredibly arousing. Kind of like she did now.
Remember Holli, no jumping Officer Hunky.
“Can I shower?”
“Of course. This way.”
His tone was light again, easygoing, and she followed him into the one and only bathroom. “It’ll take a few minutes for the water to heat up, but once it does, be sure to monitor it before you get in or it’ll scald you.”
“Okay. Temper the water.”
“I’ll get some food started.”
He backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. He’d become formal, businesslike, and she wasn’t sure why. Was he nervous? Had he changed his mind about bringing her to his home? Had he changed his mind about wanting her? Should she have attacked him in the closet after all?
Now, while I’m headed out to Trader Joe’s for some food stuffs, y’all can start reading snippets from the following blogs and authors:
Megan Hart:Read in bed!
Mandy M Roth
Have a great Saturday!