Freebie
Welcome to the Breathless Press Sexy Bunny Blog Hop. Over spring break, one can find themselves with too much time on their hands. Why not fill your hands with some free books. Yeah, that’s right. Our sexy, participating authors are giving away a free book on each of their blogs.
But that’s not all. One grand prize winner will be given a $10 Gift Certificate for the Breathless website. $10 worth of books, free.
How does one participate? Leave a comment to enter the grand prize giveaway. To visit the participating authors, click on the graphic below to access the list and have fun! Follow their instructions on how to win a free .pdf of their book. That’s it!
The Sexy Bunny Blog Hop will run from Friday, April 6th until Monday, April 9th. Have fun and enjoy your Easter ~ Breathless Press
Malcolm’s New Year’s Resolution
Jacob didn’t say a word as the car came to an abrupt halt. He wanted to, Malcolm could tell by the rapid working of his jaw, the tenseness of his lips.
“Go ahead, say it.”
“I have nothing to say.”
Of course not. His white knuckled grip on the door handle said it all. The black ice had come out of nowhere. The snow storm that was supposed to create the perfect romantic setting for a New Year’s weekend away in the mountains had come early, and once again, Malcolm was left with the impression that he’d single handedly ruined a promising holiday.
“Look, there’s a Denny’s up ahead. We can make our way there and wait out the storm. We’ll be up in ski country by morning.” He tried to sound cheerful, like his hopes for the night hadn’t been ruined. What difference did a few hours in a Denny’s matter? He’d had visions of champagne and soft music, kisses at midnight that led to so much more.
He had visions of a new life together, based on their past, sure, but going forward together. The last year had shown him plenty, they’d relearned each other, laughed, loved, fought. This weekend in the mountains was supposed to be a turning point.
Jacob nodded silently, staring out at the falling snow.
Fuck. How could he have forgotten? Jacob’s husband Peter had lost his life in a snow related traffic accident. “I’m sorry. Really. This was a bad idea, and I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The car inched into a parking space in the Denny’s lot and Jacob relaxed visibly in the seat next to him. The younger man turned to Malcolm, smiling slightly. “You bet you will. I’m ordering a chocolate milkshake since champagne at midnight is out of the question now.”
“You can order whatever you want.” Malcolm answered absently. He opened his car door and stepped into the chilly gusting snow. “You need anything from the back?” He walked around, feet sliding on the icy pavement to open the trunk of the car and retrieve his own jacket.
“Nah. I’m still kind of used to this after our years inVermont.” Jacob wore a thick leather jacket and his usual faded denim jeans, neatly tucked into short leather boots. He was probably warm enough, since they were just crossing the parking lot.
Malcolm shrugged his own coat on and skidded his way to the sidewalk where Jacob waited for him. He looped his arm through the other man’s and smiled down at him. “Not the way you expected to spend New Year’s, huh?”
Jacob pulled open the heavy glass door of the restaurant. “Actually, it’s nearly exactly the way I wanted to spend New Year’s.”
A weary looking hostess passed a blank gaze over them before leading them to a table. The restaurant was fairly empty, a few rowdy teens and a quiet travelers scattered about.
“Excuse me,” Jacob stopped the hostess with a smile. “Could we sit over there?” He indicated a dimmed section where no one else was seated.
“That section is closed.” She said woodenly, then seemed to do a double take as she took in Jacob’s amazing purple eyes. “I guess, though.” She led them around the low half wall that separated the section form the rest of the place, and then wandered of muttering about Elizabeth Taylor eyes.
Malcolm chuckled. “She’s right. With the contacts you do have Elizabeth Taylor eyes.”
Jacob shrugged and slid into the vinyl booth, resting his shoulders against the wall, relaxing with a sigh. “I know. I picked them on purpose. It appealed to my teen age vanity, and now it…just habit I guess.” He flushed slightly and Malcolm knew there was more to it than Jacob was saying.
He slid into the booth sitting at the edge, and Jacob’s brow rose in surprise. “Have I offended you, Malcolm? Or do I stink of fear and remorse?”
“What? No. Here, kick off your shoes and get your feet up here.”
Seconds later he had a lap full of cold feet. He rubbed them absently, stroking warmth back into them while Jacob moaned in appreciation.
“I can come back, if you’re having a moment.” The amused voice interrupted his reverie.
“Don’t you dare!” Jacob sat up abruptly, jerking his feet from Malcolm’s hands. “I was promised a chocolate milkshake at midnight, since champagne is out of the question, and that leaves about fifteen minutes.”
Laughing, the willowy blonde waitress tucked her hair behind her ear and made a note on her pad then turned to Malcolm. “And you? A milkshake for you? You look more like a vanilla guy. How about it?”
Malcolm chuckled. How could he help it? So things weren’t going as planned, when had they ever? “Actually, I’m a coffee, black, kind of guy.”
“You got it, chocolate milkshake, and coffee. And Mercy was right; you do have Elizabeth Taylor eyes.” She clicked her tongue on her teeth and spun around, tromping off.
Malcolm met Jacob’s eyes and scooted closer on the curved bench seat. “Hey. I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories; I just wanted to change things up. We always holiday at the beach, and I was afraid it was too much a reminder of my past.” He smiled wryly. “Now, in running from memories of my past, we’ve crashed,” he cringed. “Head on into memories of yours. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have insisted.”
“It’s all right, Malcolm. The drive was tense, and scary, and I can’t deny that it reminded me of how Peter died, especially when we hit that patch of black ice out there. But, I wasn’t scared because of him. He’s gone, he was wonderful, and I loved him. But you’re here, and what went through my head when we were sliding out of control wasn’t about Peter, it was about you.”
“Yeah?” He warmed a little more at that.
“Yeah. This is the beginning of a New Year for us. The last year has been wonderful, we’ve taken our time, and …” He trailed off as the waitress set down the silver shaker filled with his milkshake and the tall ice cream soda glass topped with whipped cream, shaved chocolate and a cherry.
“Here you are, I brought you the extra, in case he changes his mind and wants to share.” She smiled, then handed off Malcolm’s coffee swiftly. “There now. I’ll be off over there, holler if you need anything.”
They mumbled their thanks and Malcolm sipped his coffee while Jacob checked his watch. “And so this past year has been amazing. And I think we’re ready to move on.”
Malcolm froze in shock. “What? Move on? I don’t think so!” Anger swiftly replaced any other emotion, the affection, the remorse, the hope for a future. Move on? What the fuck? “If I were going to be able to move on from you, don’t you think I’d have done it five years ago when you left me the first time?”
“Are you insane?” Jacob’s hand closed on his suddenly icy one, gripped it tightly.
“I’m not letting you walk away from me again.” Malcolm vowed turning their hands and crushing Jacob’s in a bruising grip. Jacob winced slightly, and patted Malcolm’s cheek with his hand, tenderly.
“I’m not walking away from you, Malcolm. I’m asking you to move in with me.”
Jesus. His heart rate slowed, his face drained of color and he felt light headed. He’d resolve right then to stop jumping to conclusions if he could, but it seemed hard wired into his system. “Jacob, I love you. I’d love to live with you.” In Peter’s old condo? His inner cynic jibed. How do you think that’s going to work out for you and your insecurities?
“Really? So we can start looking for a place when we get home?”
Mentally kicking himself, he nodded. There was the resolution he could make. Keep his cynical side quiet until his lover had his say, and hide his over reactions. “We can look now if you want.” He pulled his phone out. “As long as there’s wifi here, that is.”
A tiny beep filled the air, and Jacob took his phone away and placed it on the table. “Not yet. That is the stroke of midnight, and you my love, are about to get your kiss.”
He didn’t have time to check for observers, wasn’t sure he’d have cared if there’d been a lynch mob from Westboro Baptist church behind them. Jacob’s lips on his were cold from the ice cream shake, soft and sweet. He inched closer, pulling his lover tight against him, and allowing himself to be kissed.
Jacob’s tongue was a slick glide against the seam of his lips, and Malcolm met it with his own tentatively. Teasing and testing led to wrestling and tasting, and his tongue followed Jacob’s retreat into the tempting cavern of his mouth. With a groan of pleasure he lost himself in exploring his favorite place, now overlaid with the rich sweetness of chocolate and ice cream.
Their mouths parted reluctantly, and they sat in the booth, peering intently into one another’s eyes. “We’re going to make it this time.” Malcolm whispered.
“We are.”
Enjoy meeting Malcolm and Jacob?
Try
Loving Jacob
available at
When Malcolm Jenner’s sex-on-the-side turns into more, he isn’t above begging for a second chance.
Malcolm is looking for a bit of fun, nothing serious. He’s got duties and responsibilities, after all. He doesn’t usually choose his lovers from the office, but his attraction to Jacob Renault is too compelling to resist.
However, Jacob isn’t interested in temporary. He wants it all, Prince Charming the castle, the happily ever after. There’s no rule that says he can’t have fun while he’s searching for his prince though.
At first neither is willing to compromise their stance, but an agreement is reached, with each man planning to do his best to subvert the other to his viewpoint. Lust turns to love, and what’s impossible becomes merely improbable, but is it going to be enough?
Christmas With Jacob
Malcolm lay stretched out on the sofa, watching Jacob decorate the small pine tree he’d brought down to the cabin. He’d tried to place a few ornaments himself, but after being gently corrected for the third time, he’d giving up. He sipped hot apple cider and nibbled on the chocolate chip cookies he’d baked. Jacob had tree decorating down to a science, apparently, and every bulb and bow needed to be placed at precise intervals or the “Whole effect would be ruined.”
Since he had no intention of inadvertently ruining any aspect of their very first Christmas as an official couple, he decided to turn up the Christmas music and just enjoy the show of supple muscles flexing and sexy strips of skin peeking out as Jacob’s purple t-shirt rode up when he stretched to wrap a string of popcorn around the small tree.
His blood warmed slowly and he sighed softly in contentment. This was what he’d missed most over their time apart. Yeah, he’d missed the most amazing sex of his life, but the contentment of being with someone you love, someone who loved you, that was what he’d rather die than give up again.
That was the reason he held back, watching, taking his cue from Jacob’s actions, trying to read every little expression and reaction. He didn’t ever want to misread his lover again. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the memories of those long, dark years. Years when he’d felt alone, even in the bosom of his family.
Soft lips brushed lightly over his. Malcolm smiled, keeping his eyes screwed tight shut. He darted out his tongue, licked the teasing lips, parted them and swept inside. A smooth hand ran down his stubbled jaw, and he wondered briefly if he should have shaved before Jacob arrived. He shook away the thought, brought both hands up to cup Jacob’s head, winding his fingers in the man’s dark curls. His breath caught, his heart rate sped. Jacob tasted of apple and cinnamon and home.
His arms lowered and he crushed Jacob to him, pulling the man across his body so they lay together on the sofa. He pushed his erection against the cradle of Jacob’s thighs. It might not be about sex, but sometimes, sex seemed like the only time he clearly understood what Jacob wanted and needed. The only time he really felt like he was what Jacob wanted and needed. His tongue plunged deep, stroked along slick surfaces, chased after Jacob’s to lure it into his own mouth.
Jacob broke away to kneel in front of him with a short, mirthless laugh. “What’s going on, Malcolm?”
“Nothing.” He stared into curious blue eyes. “What’s going on with you?”
Jacob pulled away. “The tree is done. But you’re just lying here. You were frowning. You don’t like it? We can go with a more eclectic look, if you want?”
“No!” He cast a cursory glance at the tree. “It’s fine. You like it, that’s what matters.”
“Since when, Malcolm?” Jacob asked intently, frowning at him. “Since when is it only what I like that matters?”
Malcolm shrugged. He sipped from his mug, grimacing as he realized it had cooled. “I want you to be happy with me, this time around.” Surely that was obvious?
Jacob scowled. A fine boned hand landed square in the middle of his chest as Jacob leaned over him. “Since when? All this time, I thought we were doing things differently this time. I thought we were going to do things right this time, not repeat the same mistakes.”
“I’m not making any mistakes.” Not taking any chances that Jacob would run away again, would leave him for someone else.
“Yeah, you are.”
Malcolm froze, pushing up, shoving Jacob away. “Seriously? You’re just looking for a reason to leave, aren’t you? I’ve done everything you wanted, when you wanted, the way you wanted. If that’s not enough…”
“It’s not.”
The pain ripped through him, leaving him gasping for breath. He needed a drink. He reached blindly for the mug, succeeded only in knocking it over so the cold cider spilled across the pine table and dripped onto the floor. It might as well have been his blood. He stood, frantically searching the room for his keys, finally finding the lump in his pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“I need a drink. There’s no alcohol here, ergo, I’m going to get some.”
“No, you’re not. Just us, remember? No booze, no cutting, just plain and simple, us and communication.”
Malcolm sank to the floor, buried his head in hands. He drew in a deep breath, blinked back the moisture in his eyes. “Yeah. Just us.” He’d nearly fucked things up again, with the best of intentions, yes. He snorted weakly. “You said it, didn’t you? We really did nearly fuck up this peanut butter sandwich trying to make a cake.”
Hands slid around the nape of his neck, warm breath bathed his temple before a soft kiss landed at the corner of his eye. “Yeah, but we’re not quitting, and we’re not giving up. Now, I want to do something the way you want to do it, not the way you think I want to.”
Malcolm glanced at the tree. “The tree is fine. I really don’t want to re-do it.”
A hand landed on his cock, squeezed. “Yeah, not the tree. You can tell me your theory on holiday decorating some other time.”
Light dawned as the buttons to his jeans were flicked open one by one. “Oh, but you know how I like to do this.”
A warm pink tongue lapped at his belly button. “I do? But tell me you don’t sometimes want to do it a little different…a little like that first time.”
Groaning, Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut again. His hand fisted in Jacob’s curls, his hips thrust forward. “In the elevator.”
“Yeah.”
“I was an ass.”
“You were amazing.”
“You want to do that over again?”
A sharp slap on his thigh. “I know you like that, rough and fast, and I want that if and when you want it. Love doesn’t always have to be slow and careful. Sometimes it’s a fucking storm that picks you up and tosses you around until you land battered and spent and grateful to be alive.”
“Bed, now.” Malcolm rose, towing Jacob behind him as he raced across the room, shedding clothes as they went.
If you enjoyed meeting Jacob and Malcolm here, you can red more about them in Loving Jacob, at Breathless Press
Harlan’s Way
Copyright 2011
by
Havan Fellows
Ryder tucked his arm back under the blanket and tried to ignore the blissful aroma of freshly brewed coffee in hopes of just five more minutes of fitful sleep. He’d been sleeping like a baby lately and didn’t want it to end. Then he smiled to himself, thinking about the reason he’d been sleeping so soundly. Harlan was somewhere in this apartment, maybe working on his laptop or appeasing his OCD with cleaning again or if Ryde was lucky he might even be cooking them a little something for breakfast.
With that thought in his head he jumped out of bed, pulled his favorite pair of sweats on and headed to the bathroom. Teeth brushed and business taken care of, he set off to find his man. He walked down the hall and peaked into the spare room that now housed Harlan’s work crap. Granted, they weren’t technically living together yet—but Har spent close to ninety percent of his time here and Ryder wanted Har to have his own space so he could telecommute from work as often as possible. Anything to keep Har here for another day that was Ryde’s motto.
He stepped into the family room that was also sans Har, and stared at the tree. Earlier this week they had gone and picked out a simple tree, not more than six feet high and slightly thinner than the normally sought after ones. But it fit in his apartment perfectly and they had decorated it with all the bulbs and ornaments that they had bought together.
Ryder walked over to the tree and touched the branch jutting out at him. There was something about buying everything new and starting fresh. It was easy to let Har have his way when they decided what to purchase. The glow on his face when Ryder agreed to the silver and green garland and the multi-faceted lights that blinked made it all worthwhile.
This was the first year Ryde had put up a Christmas tree, even though he’d been living in this apartment for just over five years. He had never seen the point; not in a tree, or celebrating Christmas in general. But this year…this year there was more than just a point to doing this. This year he wanted this, and he wanted it with Harlan.
He turned to head to the kitchen when a shine caught his eye. He stopped and smiled. Damn if Harlan wasn’t true to his word and all those picture frames were back in their proper places on the mantel—with new pictures in them of a smiling and happy couple. Ryder felt the silly grin spread across his face but couldn’t restrain it. This was his happy couple. For the first time in seven years he finally had a reason to grin and he wouldn’t deny himself the right to crack a smile about the little things that really were big to him.
The kitchen was the only other place Harlan would be so Ryder went in that direction. He stopped in the archway and took in the scene before him. Harlan was setting the table with not just a little something, but with all his favorites; banana pecan pancakes, eggs, thick cut peppered bacon and lots of butter and syrup on the side.
“Um…” He chuckled nervously. “Last time you made a spread like this you had just broken into my apartment. Should I be worried?”
“That I’ll break in? I already stole your key and made duplicates.” Har laughed. “Or that I’ll try to break out? Sorry, that one isn’t happening either.”
Ryder shook his head in mirth and made a beeline for his lover. With three long strides he had Harlan on the counter and took ownership of his mouth, forcing his tongue through those perfect lips and tasting Harlan. Harlan should be the first flavor to pass his lips every morning, nothing else would do.
Grabbing Harlan’s hips he tugged him to the edge of the counter and grinded against him.
“Hey. You’re wearing jeans?” He leaned back and looked Harlan up and down. Sure enough, he wasn’t dressed for a sexy stay-at-home Saturday breakfast. He was dressed to go out in his skinny jeans and crisp white shirt with his flannel on over it, he even had sneakers on.
“Yeah…um…my mini-skirt was dirty?” Har joked.
Ryde swatted him on his hip. “First, don’t play—that actually sounds hot. Second, why are you dressed for a day out instead of a day in? I don’t wanna go out on Christmas Eve, people get crazy this time of year! Let’s take our food and head back to the bedroom and find interesting ways to eat it.” He waggled his eyebrows at Harlan.
“Oh yeah, that’s not happening! No food in the bed, need I remind you of the toast fiasco of last month? I had crumbs in places that should never be touched by food!”
“Ha! Says you, my tongue found every single crumb thank you very much.” Ryder chuckled.
“Yeah well, I actually have plans today.”
A knock on the door stopped Ryder from wondering what his boyfriend had up his sleeve. “I’ll get that, and when I come back you better have a darn good reason for leaving me alone without any morning hanky panky.” He headed off for the door.
Ryder heard Harlan hop off of the counter. “Wait. Maybe I should answer that.”
“I’m already here.” He turned to look questioningly at Harlan as he opened the door.
“Yeah. I’m still wondering why he keeps you around.” The voice from the front door of the apartment grated down Ryde’s nerves like nails down a chalkboard.
He swung his head back to the open doorway and growled at Ritchie while addressing Harlan, “What is he doing here? It’s Christmas Eve, shouldn’t I be safe from having to put up with annoying little twerps?”
Ritchie smiled wide at Ryder. “So I see you decided to keep the stray, Harlan. I hope he has his shots and has been neutered. You don’t want him spraying all over thinking he has territory to mark.”
“Don’t you worry about my territory, Ritchie, I marked it last night…twice.”
Ritchie pushed his way past Ryder and propped on the armrest of the sofa. “Only twice? Well you are older than us, twice is probably the best you got. By the way, cover up some, answering the door shirtless isn’t the best look for you.”
“Rit—”
Ryder ignored Harlan’s attempt at controlling his best friend and leaned against the edge of the still open front door, massaging his chest with his hand. “What’s wrong Ritchie, don’t like staring at the chest that Harlan chose over you? It must really get your goat that I have what he wants.”
“Ryd—”
Ritchie waved his hand to stop Harlan’s interruption. “Harlan always was one for charity cases, one of the things that endears him to me. Now if you don’t mind, we have Christmas shopping to do for his worse half.” He grabbed Har by the wrist and headed out of the apartment.
Harlan paused long enough to kiss Ryder quickly on the lips and tell him he loved him, then they were walking down the hall together. Ritchie’s voice floated back to Ryder, “I’m thinking you need to pick up a nice pink g-string with white fringe for that man of yours. Do you think they carry them in the size small?”
Ryder let the door swing close and smiled. He reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out the ring box, opening it to look at the matching platinum bands with a tiny row of diamonds on each one. Tomorrow was the day he would ask Harlan to be his husband forever, and Harlan would want Ritchie to be his best man at the ceremony.
Yeah, Ryder’s life was good. No…great. No. Ryder’s life was perfect.
Enjoy meeting Harlan and Ryde? Get to know them better in Harlan’s Ryde, featured in Story Orgy’s Word Play anthology!
Grand Opening
*throws confetti*
*Sips coffee*
Kicking off Breathless Press’s totally awesome new website, I’m taking the lazy way of celebrating. In fact, I’m sitting here in my flannel pj’s while I write this. I could have blathered on for about 500 words on something you’d probably rather not read, (the surprising drop in gas prices?) but instead, I just thought I’d share a bit of short fiction with you. It’s a little bit of m/m romance–big surprise there, huh? But really, who doesn’t like a touch of romance? Free, at that? Okay… here you go… *throws more confetti* ooops…*retrieves coffee spoon* No, I’m all right, no worries… I’ll keep the coffee warm for you. Here have a slice of coffee cake, and let me introduce you to Nick.
Nick
Nicholas Ryan leaned against the bar, a ridiculous piece of whimsy designed to look like a concession stand in a movie theater. He studiously avoided the drunk on his left with the grabby hands and the sycophantic girl on his right with equally grabby hands. She probably thought she could turn him straight given the opportunity to touch him often enough.
He didn’t care. He was looking for one man here in this ratty-ass dance club, and when he found Jayden, he’d have his say and get the fuck on with the rest of his life sans cheating boy friend. The band had just finished playing, so Jayden had to be here somewhere. If he followed his usual pattern, he’d be headed toward this bar for a bottle of water.
If he found Jayden, that is. A glimpse of ash blonde hair in the distance had him bolting upright, and straining to see through the crowd. He recognized the sexy swagger as the lean singer approached. Jayden’s emerald eyes widened in surprise when he spotted Nick at the same time.
The blonde altered his course slightly and came to a stop uncomfortably close to Nick. He wedged his way between Nick and the grabby girl, who grumbled and reluctantly gave ground. Nick couldn’t help the sigh of relief at being able to let down his guard any more than he could help the throb of his cock in Jayden’s presence. He couldn’t stop it, but he could ignore it.
“Nick, honey, you need to be more assertive.” Jayden’s mellow voice poured over him like molten honey and Nick barely saved himself from leaning into the leanly muscled frame.
“She wasn’t bothering me.” He asserted icily. “I ordered your water bottle.” He spun around and picked up his own glass of ginger ale, noting Jayden’s interested glance at his tumbler. “It’s just ginger ale. I’m on the late shift tonight. I told you that this morning.”
Jayden unscrewed the cap on his bottle of water and tilted his head back to take a long swig. Nick swallowed hard, caught his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He was pale. Too pale for California, too thin, too nobody. A nurse. There was a time he’d been proud of his RN. He’d worked hard for it. But after Jayden, yeah. He was just too normal for a would be rock star boy friend, that’s for fucking sure.
Reminded of why he’d bothered to show up here on his way to work, he slammed the glass down on the bar. “I did the laundry today.” See what the fucker made of that.
Full lower lip gleaming with drops of water, Jay smiled and wrapped an arm around Nick’s waist, pulling him closer. Nick stiffened, stilled. The physical distraction of being close to Jay tested his resolve. “Thanks, honey. I appreciate that.”
Nick jerked from Jay’s hold, stumbling against the drunk behind him, who rumbled an unintelligible protest. He twisted his head away to avoid the kiss Jay seemed bent on sharing. “Fuck you Jay. I did the laundry. I found it.”
Jay’s hand closed in a tight grip on his arm. He picked up Nick’s glass and sniffed it. “What the hell are drinking, Nicky? What the are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about finding this!” He pulled the little white cardstock square from his pocket and flung it in Jay’s face. “That’s it. The last fucking straw. I’m done with you. I moved my stuff out.” For added emphasis, he threw the apartment key on the floor at Jay’s feet.
He stalked out of the stupid theme dance club, leaving his would be rock star lover gaping like a fish out of water. Outside, on the street, what he’d done hit him. Fighting to draw breath, he leaned against the nearest lamp post. Fuck. He’d really done it. He broke up with Jay. He’d always figured the scene would go the other way around. One day Jay would look at him and realize he just wasn’t glam enough to measure up.
Fuck. He hurt so bad. Work. He straightened slowly, one hand clenched over his churning stomach, making for his car. All his worldly possessions were crammed haphazardly in the cargo bay and back seat of the vehicle. Had he left a pair of scrubs where he could find them? Shaking, hot trails of tears sliding down his cheeks; he slid into the driver’s seat and let his head fall forward against the steering wheel.
The slam of the passenger side door jolted him upright. It was his turn to gape like a fish. Jayden bounced into the passenger seat, fire in his eyes. “What…”
“Not me, dip shit.”
No, of course the rock star ego couldn’t take being dumped by a lowly nurse! “I meant what I said, Jayden Nighthawk. I’ve put up your shit for years now. A baby, though? That I will not accept. We’re done. Fuck around on tour getting your picture in magazines with supermodels, yeah okay that’s for publicity. Take a leggy actress to the awards show, sure. Go ahead. ‘Doesn’t mean a thing, babe’. Sure, I believed you. But you don’t fucking get women pregnant for publicity!” He was sweating now, shaking with fury. His cool had flown.
Jayden’s green eyes narrowed and he bit each word out concisely. “I did not get anyone pregnant. I do not fuck around on tour. The PR people arrange these things as photo ops. Good for me, good for the girls. I don’t even know their fucking names. Sex is not part of it. That,” He flung the white piece of cardstock at Nick. Nick flinched. He’d never seen such emotion in Jay’s face, such fury in his eyes, and Jay had a reputation for being temperamental. “Is from Casey, my bassist. She’s leaving the band to have a baby. She and her husband have been trying for years. She just found out she’s pregnant. She wanted me to know, but not the reporters at yesterday’s press conference.”
Nick swallowed. His heart beat wildly. He’d gotten it wrong. All wrong. “Hence, the request that you call her.” He said dully.
“Yes,” Jay uttered drily. Silence fell in the car. Nick didn’t know what to say. What he could say. Jay watched intently, and he was too embarrassed to make eye contact. He was an ass.
Jayden’s commanding grip on his chin forced him around. The lips that had teased him in the bar descended to cover his own. With a sigh, he let his eyes drift closed and melted into the kiss. It might be the last one he shared with Jayden. How could he have been so fucking stupid?
“Stop thinking.” Jay ordered. “It wasn’t that unreasonable an assumption.” Jay’s wandering hand slid into the crease of Nick’s thigh, rubbing and stroking tiny circles on the fabric of his jeans. The heat of that hand brought back in full force the arousal he’d felt in the bar. The hand slid up to press firmly against Nick’s urgent erection, Jay growling into the kiss as Nick responded with an eager moan. Jayden gently squeezed the hard shaft through the denim. He dragged his mouth away and gazed intently at Nick.
“Touch me,” he whispered. Nick obeyed blindly, reaching for the zip of the tight leather pants, easing it down to reveal Jay’s heavy erection. It was heady, exciting knowing he could make Jay want him even knowing that they might be caught, here in public.
Jayden groaned, low and husky as Nick caressed the length of his cock. If this was the last time, if he’d ruined their relationship beyond repair, then this time he was going to fucking savor every taste, every touch. He wanted this to be the blow job Jay compared every other one to for the rest of his life. Harsh gasps and urgent murmurs told him he succeeded as he found sensitive places and teased with teeth, tongue and lips. Satisfied, he opened his mouth over the leaking tip and sank down, settling into a deep, hard suction while massaging the underside with his tongue. He scraped his teeth along the surface on an upward draw, and Jay stiffened, choking out a garbled moan as he came. Satisfied, Nick sat up slowly. He reluctantly raised his head to meet Jay’s molten green eyes.
Jayden brought their mouths together again for a slow leisurely kiss. He tenderly kissed Nick’s moist, bruised lips. His lips parted lightly in invitation which Nick instantly accepted, sweeping his tongue in broad strokes into Jayden’s mouth.
Jayden’s hand on the buttons of his fly reminded him his own cock throbbed in its denim prison. He shifted in the seat to give Jay more room to maneuver, relishing the strength in those artistic hands. Jayden closed his hand in a firm grip on Nick’s now exposed cock.
Nick groaned his approval of Jayden’s touch into his mouth, drawing back from the kiss to press hot moist kisses to Jay’s rough stubbled jaw line. The tiny nearly invisible blonde hairs were a rough caress. His hips arched into the firm strokes of Jay’s hand. His mouth wandered over sweat salted skin, savoring the after performance taste of Jay, the scent of Jay. His Jay, no more. Suddenly determined, he sank his teeth into the flesh where neck met shoulder and sucked hard, knowing it would leave a mark. His mark, for the next guy to see.
The pleasure of possession, of staking his claim, sent him tipping over the edge of arousal, and Nick felt his balls tighten and tingle, fire burning at the small of his back. To his surprise, Jay swooped down at the last second and took the head of his cock between his lips, sucking the last vestiges of cum from his quivering body. Jay shuddered as the warm liquid filled his mouth, swallowing, humming and giving every indication of pleasure in the proceedings, before settling back in his own seat with a sigh.
“I love you. You know that, right?” The husky purr washed over Nick, soothing his ragged emotions, reassuring him of his place.
“It’s hard to believe, sometimes.” He admitted.
Eyes narrowed, Jay held him captive with his green gaze. “Why? Why do you doubt me? What else can I do?”
Eyes downcast, Nick plucked at the buttons of his jeans, slowly fumbling them shut. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“Fuck. I’ve heard that before. Get this straight. You are not breaking up with me. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.” Nick snapped back. A golden glow was spreading through him. Jay loved him. They weren’t breaking up. “I meant, I’m insecure by nature. Comes of being a middle child, I guess.”
Jay snorted. “So next time you get some wild hair about me cheating on you, I should just thump you like any older sibling would do and you’ll settle down?”
“No. That won’t be necessary. Is your show over?”
Jay raised an incredulous brow. “Dude, my boyfriend just threw a hissy fit and broke up with me in public. I’m sympathetically excused from performing. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Nick looked at the clock. He had half an hour. He picked up his cell phone. “I’ll call in sick. My boyfriend needs some TLC.”
Think they’ll solve all their problems? Maybe so. If you think you’d like to hear more about how Nick and Jayden are getting along… drop me a line at lee.brazil@ymail.com with Nick as the subject line. If I get oh… let’s pick a magic number, shall we? Say 7- make it easy… if I get 7 emails, I’ll add a chapter to the story to share with you all next month.
Visit me at Lee’s Musings for more about my work, including a variety of free reads. You can also find me on Facebook.