Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Hot New M/M Erotic Romance from H.C. Brown

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Zor, a Fae male has spent some time observing Landon a deliciously handsome bad boy. He is convinced he is a shifter from a future race known as the Ecatnie. Zor is attracted to the human and decides to discover if his assumptions are correct.
After making contact, he convinces Landon to leave his home, FB and TV and follow him into Other World with the promise of magic and free love. In this new dimension, Landon is impatient, he wants Zor with a passion but Zor is holding out, not wanting to make a mistake and have his heart broken. - See more at: http://spunkbooks.com/product/one-delicious-man-or-two/#sthash.syIHpgx6.dpuf


Darkwing’s wet lips demanded, savaging Landon’s mouth in a frenzied desire. Water tumbled over their bodies, filling Landon’s mouth with each gasped breath. Darkwing fisted one large hand in Landon’s hair, pulling back his head, his voice a harsh whisper.
“I truly care for you but if you want this, I demand complete surrender. You do exactly what I say. Do you agree?”
Landon looked into eyes as black as night. He trembled. “Yes.”
A few moments later, heart pounding, he followed Darkwing from the shower and dried himself. Inside the Fae’s bedroom, he took the offered goblet of potion.
 “Lie down on a bench.” Darkwing pressed a hot kiss to his lips. “You deserve two males tonight.”
Landon’s heart pounded against his ribcage. “Who will be joining us?”
“I only share with Tarric. We work well together. Others may lose control and spoil the pleasure. Before I summon him, I’ll need to prepare you.” Darkwing lifted a jar of cream from a shelf and opened the lid. He turned back to the shelf and selected a large, thick phallus. “Don’t look so worried, I’m good at this. Finish your drink.”
Landon drank the potion. He relaxed and dissolved into the heady sensation. Darkwing dropped his large body onto a chair and bent forward to lick the top of Landon’s shaft. Flames of delight roared up his length. He moaned immersed in the heat of Darkwing’s hot, wet mouth. The Fae growled deep in his chest then lifted his head and cool air hit Landon’s throbbing flesh. Cool lube hit his hole.
“Lift up your knees and push the cream into your ass, nice and slow.”  Darkwing stood then moved to straddle the bench. “You look so delicious naked and hard.”
Landon complied, circling his hole and dipping inside. The aphrodisiac cream heated and sizzled along his nerve endings. Waves of bliss curling around his balls.  Darkwing’s warm fingers pushed his hand aside and the hard tip of the phallus pressed against his passage.  He gasped. The cool hardness moved inside, stretching and filling him.
 “I want your ass nice and relaxed.”  Darkwing pressed a line of kisses along Landon’s thigh.
Moaning at the intrusion, Landon drew in deep breaths and forced his muscles to relax. The cool rod sunk deep in his ass scraping across his pleasure spot.  “It feels good.”
“Get on your knees for me and crawl to the end of the bench.”  Darkwing thrust the phallus deeper.
Landon struggled to his knees. He trembled. Flames of lust licked his balls. Darkwing moved in front of him and brushed the head of his massive cock across his mouth. Landon licked his lips and the Fae’s unique flavor hummed through him. He opened his mouth to savor the Fae’s taste. So big, so full, Darkwing’s delicious cock slid across his tongue. Landon sucked and nibbled, encouraging him to spill. He wanted to drink every drop of his release.
Warm hands moved up his legs, wet kisses pressed on his ass cheeks. He heard Darkwing chuckle.
“Isn’t he delicious?” Darkwing rocked his hips pushing his cock deeper into Landon’s mouth.
The phallus moved in long, devastating strokes and a voice came from behind him. Landon moaned a greeting, and rocked into the rhythm.

“Yes and well primed. Hello Landon, I’m Tarric. I’m Darkwing’s partner. Are you our new pet? Will you purr when I take you?”

Sunday, October 27, 2013

NEW RELEASE: NIGHT GAMES_ M/M Contemporary Romance + Excerpt

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Joe Harrison stared down the long, bleached wooden walkway beside the marina to the graceful man working on the schooner’s deck. A gust of wind tumbled the dark blond hair, streaked from long days at sea. The Rio de Janeiro sun glistened over his sweat-soaked body, tanned to a golden brown. His gaze drifted across the distance to the handsome, chiseled face he knew so well. He visualized the man’s blue expressive eyes and the fullness of his lips. He longed to nibble the day-old stubble on his chin and flick his tongue in the corners of his smile.
Joe tilted his head back and closed his eyes, overwhelmed with an ache to sink his fingers into the silky mass falling to the young man’s shoulders. He inhaled. The smell of seaweed mixed with the ocean’s brine drifted through the window. His mind went back to their earlier meeting. Dazz’s preference for expensive French cologne, its citrus fragrance mingled with his natural musk, both surprised Joe and drove him crazy with the need to bury his nose in the man’s neck.
Joe leaned a shoulder against the window frame and watched Dazz secure the rigging with the skill of many years at sea. His cut-off jeans displayed strong thighs and the way the frayed fabric molded to his muscular ass—God! Joe chuckled and swiped at his mouth. The man had become an obsession. Joe gripped the window ledge.
The guy made him hard with one glance of his sapphire eyes. Joe bit his bottom lip. Their lingering handshake earlier upon meeting invaded his mind. The warmth of Dazz’s callused hand and the way his long fingers, burnished by the sun, curled around his palm. Joe groaned. His balls throbbed at the thought of the man’s rough thumb circling his cockhead.
Joe shook his head to clear the image of Dazz stretched out naked on his bed. Did he have a snowflake’s chance in hell with the young guy? Sure, they got on well enough together. How often had he discussed the latest soccer game with Dazz? Okay, so they had sports in common but little else.

With a sigh, Joe contemplated the situation. For a start, Dazz had to be five years his junior. The man of his dreams lived in a different world and had a different class of friends. What chance did he have to fit in Dazz’s “live every day like it’s your last” attitude toward life? 

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

In The Hot Seat With H.C. Lisabet Sarai + $20 Prize for random comment.

Joining me in the Hot Seat today is author Lisabet Sarai.     

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.
Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has travelled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.
For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com)
Q:  Can you tell our readers a little about your writing? What genres do you enjoy writing?
What genres? Hah! Over the fourteen years I've been publishing, I've tried my hand at almost every erotica/erotic romance genre except Christian, Western and Recency. I've written M/M, F/F, M/F, M/M/F, M/F/M – contemporary, historical, paranormal, science fiction, steampunk, interracial/multicultural – thrillers, satires, even a romantic comedy. With each new book, I like to challenge myself by trying something new.
Not that this is necessarily the best recipe for commercial success LOL. When they find a book they like, readers frequently want more of the same. In contrast, my fans have to like diversity, the way I do.
There are common themes and characteristics that run through all my work, of course. I'm fascinated by the subjective experience of desire, so although my stories all tend to be more or less explicit, I tend to focus more on my characters' thoughts and feelings than on the physical nuts and bolts of sex. Settings have an important influence on my books. I almost always have a specific location in mind when I write a story, and in some of them (e.g. Raw Silk, Incognito, Necessary Madness), the location is almost another character. Finally, I return again and again to tales of dominance and submission, my first love in the realm of the erotic. 
One more thing. I really care about language. So readers might find my books to be a little more I hate to use the term, but I don't know what else to call it literary than the romance they're used to. I want to draw them deep into my stories, using words to construct vivid and visceral worlds. I write some poetry as well as prose. I guess that may show.
Q:  Do you write on a schedule or when the Muse decides?
I work full time at a rather demanding job, so I have to be pretty stern with my Muse. I've never been able to write in brief snippets. Instead, I dedicate at least one full day per week (usually Sunday) to writing. And on that day I won't stop until I've produced 3-5K, no matter how much my Muse complains!
Q. Do you write about the places you know or prefer to take your readers to exotic places?
As I mentioned above, place plays a really important role in my books. However, I've been to some fairly exotic places in my life – I currently live in Southeast Asia – so I have a wide range of potential locales from which to choose. I have several books set in Thailand, where I lived for several years in the eighties. I've written stories that take place in London, Amsterdam, Provence, Guatemala, India, Cambodia, Laos, Hong Kong... plus all around the U.S., which is where I hail from originally.
Q: Where do you get your inspiration?
Everywhere. I think that's true of most authors. You never know when you'll hit upon a story idea. Anything can be a trigger: a song, a smell, a memory, an item in the newspaper, an overheard conversation.
Sometimes I'll be exercising, or doing the dishes, and a catchy title will come to me. No story, just the title. Once I have that handle, though, a tale is almost bound to unfold.
I tend to do well when given assignments and writing prompts something to get the creative juices flowing. I've written for a lot of themed anthologies. My approach is to try to come up with a twist that turns the theme on its head. For instance, I recently had a tale in an anthology entitled Tied to the Billionaire erotic romance featuring billionaire heroes and ending in marriage. I figured most of the other contributors would write about modern tycoons. Instead I set my tale in the Gilded Age, the first decade of the twentieth century, and my hero is one of the robber baron industrialists who made such huge fortunes during that period.
Q: We have all suffered submission rejections. How do you cope? Do you have any advice to other writers on coping with rejection?
Of course I hate rejections, but I know at this point that I can always find a home somewhere else for a tale that is rejected by a particular publisher or editor. I have very few unpublished works on my hard drive – and the ones that do exist, I have plans for!
The key to surviving rejection is to not take it personally. A rejection is not necessarily a statement about the quality of your work; it has far more to do with the match between what you've written and what the publisher or editor wants. And if you're lucky enough to get specific feedback on problems with your tale, you should be grateful rather than depressed. Of course, the editor may not have understood at all what you were trying to accomplish, but in many cases you may be able to learn from his or her suggestions.
Q: What do you like to read and who are your favourite authors?
Like my writing, my reading tastes are extremely eclectic. In the last few weeks I finished The Dimple of Doom by Lucy Woodhull (humorous erotic romance), The Ice Queen by Alice Hoffman (general fiction), Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay (epic fantasy) and Metro Girl by Janet Evanovich (humorous mystery). Currently I am reading Dark Secret Love by Alison Tyler (BDSM erotica), 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami  (contemporary fantasy) and The Deer Park by Norman Mailer (general fiction). Next up on my TBR pile are a rereading of Gemini Heat by Portia da Costa, the erotic romance that first inspired me to publish, and Gay L.A., a history of gay culture in the Cityof Angels, by Lillian Federman and Stuart Timmons.
Favourite authors? I'll read anything by Portia da Costa, Haruki Murakami, Sarah Waters, D.M. Thomas, M. Christian, S.P. Somtow... However, quite a lot of my reading is opportunistic. I'll go to a book store or a library sale and pick up a book by someone I've never read before, only to find I love his or her work.
Q: Do you write one novel at a time or do you move between works in progress?
Generally I work on one long work at a time. I may take breaks to write shorter pieces for specific anthology calls. Since my writing time is so constrained, I really have to be very disciplined.
Q: Can you tell us a little about your current novel? What inspired you to write this story?
Rajasthani Moon,  which just came out in paperback this week, was written as a lark. I sometimes get frustrated by the way erotic romance is so genre-centric. By this, I mean the fact that everything is sliced and diced, labelled and put into compartments, as if to protect readers from accidentally reading something different from what they've tried before. So I thought about writing a novel that combined as many genres as I could cram in. Rajasthani Moon is a steampunk/BDSM/shapeshifter/ménage/Bollywood/Rubenesque erotic romance. I might have forgotten one or two genres there. It may sound as though the book is a mishmash, but in fact I think it all blends together rather well. And I certainly had a blast writing it!
 I've included a blurb and excerpt below. You can find a more explicit snippet on my website at http://www.lisabetsarai.com/rajasthaniex.html
 Let me know what you think. I'll enter everyone who leaves a comment with his or her email address into a drawing for a $20 bookstore gift certificate. This drawing also applies to my two upcoming guest blogs, one at Normandie Alleman's blog (http://normandiealleman.com) on Friday the 25th and one at H.K. Carlton's blog (http://pickagenrealready.blogspot.com/) on the 31st. I'll be talking about a different book at each one. Visit them all and maximise your chances of winning!
Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman with a mission.
Cecily Harrowsmith, secret agent extraordinaire, is a woman on a mission. When the remote Indian kingdom of Rajasthan refused to remit its taxes to the Empire, Her Majesty imposed an embargo. Deprived of the energy-rich mineral viridium, essential for modern technology and development, Rajasthan was expected to quickly give in and resume its payments. Yet after three years, the rebellious principality still has not knuckled under. Cecily undertakes the difficult journey to that rugged, arid land in order to determine just how it has managed to survive, and if possible to convince the country to return to the Empire’s embrace. Instead, she’s taken captive by a brigand, who turns out to be the ruler’s half-brother Pratan, and delivered into the hands of the sexy but sadistic Rajah Amir, who expertly mingles torture and delight in his interrogation of the voluptuous interloper.
Cursed before birth by Amirs jealous mother, Pratan changes to a ravening wolf whenever the moon is full. Cecily uncovers the counter-spell that can reverse the effects of the former queens hex and tries to trade that information for her freedom. Drawn to the fierce wolf-man and sympathising with his suffering, she volunteers to serve as the sacrifice required by the ritualoffering her body to the beast. In return, the Rajah reveal Rajasthans amazing secret source of energy. In the face of almost impossible odds, Cecily has accomplished the task entrusted to her by the Empire. But can she really bear to leave the virile half-brothers and their colourful land behind and return to the constraints of her life in England?
Excerpt (PG):
Sprawled on the floor, tangled in her clothing, Cecily glared up at him. A swathe of dark cloth wrapped around his head hid everything but his deep brown eyes. Sheltering under elegantly arched eyebrows, those eyes glittered with malice and craft. He had long, lush eyelashes that any woman would envy and a high forehead that bespoke considerable intelligence. A brute, no doubt, but scarcely dumb. She’d have to move with the utmost care.

If you will put somewhat more distance between your blade and my flesh, she began, keeping her voice sweet and level, I will be able to reach my money. Its pinned into my waistband.

The bandits eyes flicked to her bare midriff. She let her hand drift down towards the concealed pistol as though she were about to extricate a hidden pouch of coins.

Before she could reach her goal, he shot out his hand, catching her wrist in an iron grip. Allow me.He slipped his dagger into a sheath slung across his chest, then grabbed her other wrist and pinned it with the first. His hand was large enough to encircle both of hers.
Now, then…” He trailed his fingertips across the naked gap between her blouse and her skirt. Electricity sizzled up Cecilys spine. The next thing she knew, he slid his hand under the fabric of her skirt, rooting around for items more solid than her soft, round belly.

He groped for a moment, while she held her breath. His calloused fingers struck sparks from her flesh. Of course, he discovered her weapon almost instantly. He drew it out, chuckling once more when he saw its size. Her skin mourned the loss of his touch.

What a surprise! A gun instead of the promised gold. He tightened his hold on her wrists until she feared the bones would snap. Who are you, my lady? Not, I think, a common traveller.

Thats none of your concernsir. Cecily decided that it might be wise to be polite.

Oh, I think it is. Not many women travel on their own across the wastes of my country, especially in the most modern of conveyances. Those that do are wise to carry a weaponbut this one will not help you. Who sent you, madam? What is your business here?

Ill not share my business with a common brigand.

And if I were someone else? Would you tell me then how and why you happen to cross my path?

Cecily of course had a cover story. Her documents attested that she was the sister of a wealthy Bombay textile merchant, come to Rajasthan looking for business contacts. She was not, however, about to divulge anything to this rogue.

I will tell you nothing.

Indeed? I think I may be able to change your mind. After tucking the pistol into the folds of his garment, he drew out a length of what, aside from its strange silvery colour, looked like common rope. He dangled it near her trapped wrists. Bind, he said.

The rope came alive, coiling like a snake. Quick as a cobra strike, it looped itself around her forearmsonce, twice, half a dozen times, pulling tighter with each cycle. Before she could devise a plan, Cecily found her crossed arms were laced together as firmly as the back of a corset.

How dare you? Untie me at once!

So that you can stab me? Or shoot me? Who knows what other cunning devices you have hidden about your charming person? No, on the contrary, I think Id be wise to bind your legs as well.

He climbed into the carriage, bringing with him a strong odour of horse and male sweat. Although the vehicle was designed for two passengers, his considerable height and broad shoulders made it feel distinctly crowded, especially with Cecilys non-trivial bulk occupying a significant area of the floor. He crouched down and reached for her ankle. She scooted away, kicking out at him. Her boot connected solidly with his shin.

Shivas balls! he cursed. That hurts! She cocked her knee back for a second blow, but he caught her foot in mid-kick and raised it until her leg was almost at right angles to her prone body. Her skirt slipped down, baring her knee and part of her thigh, and releasing a flood of her woman-scent.

The miscreants eyes widened. No doubt his nostrils flared as well, but they were hidden beneath his impromptu mask. Had Cecily been a fair English rose of a woman, her cheeks would have burnt bright pink. Her mixed heritage allowed her to hide her embarrassment.

Unhand me, sir!

Instead, he seized her other ankle, brought her leg parallel to the first, and whipped out another of his devilish self-binding ropes.

No, please, sir! Seeing that outrage would get her nowhere, Cecily decided to try deception. If he bound her legs, she would never be able to escape him. Stop, please. I will reveal everything to you.

Of course you will, madam. The mockery in his voice stung, especially when she remembered that most of her lower body was now visible to his sharp eyes. Back at my quarters. Bind.

In an instant, the robotic shackles wound themselves around her calves and ankles. She tried tensing her muscles, so as to create some slack later. The device clamped down with relentless power, forcing her to relax.

There. I hope Ill be safe now from your most unladylike aggression.

Cecily fumed inside, but managed to maintain a calm demeanour.

The bandit grasped her around the waist with both hands. Just have to get you out of this coach and onto my horse…” His rough fingers dug into her bare flesh, yet she missed the pain when he released her after heaving her body up onto the seat. Youre not exactly delicate, but thats fine with me. I prefer a woman with some meat on her bones.

The substantial bulge in his dusty black pantaloons made his meaning more than clear.

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Author’s links:
 Beyond Romance Blog: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com
 Lisabet's Fantasy Factory: http://www.lisabetsarai.com
 Lisabet's List Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Guest Author: Tamsin Baker

Welcome my guest today Tamsin Baker and an excerpt from her new release.

Loving a Fae: Neisk by Tamsin Baker
MMM contemporary paranormal ménage

The Fae allow three trips to Earth to sample the land’s delights, but they have rules. No revealing your magic to anyone and no same sex relationships. Neisk has followed the rules for hundreds of years and no longer wishes to hold himself back. He needs to find someone to love and he needs another man.

Chris and Josh have been a couple for two years and are happily in love. The only issue is that they are both ‘bottoms’ in the bedroom. When Neisk arrives, they see it as the perfect opportunity to have a one night threesome where they can experience something they both need, together.

Neisk soon falls in love with Chris and Josh, and they with him. However, the Fae elders are not pleased by Neisk’s flagrant disrespect of their rules, and haul him back to Fae. Chris and Josh must find a way up to him and beg to have him back.

Chris sighed with relief and nodded. Josh deserved to be comfortable in his own home.
“Yeah, change into jeans and a t-shirt or something. He’ll be here soon.”
Chris finished his preparations listening to the plumbing rattle a little with the shower running. Josh must have had a really busy day if he was having another shower.
Ten minutes later the bell rang and Chris hurried forward to the front door. He gripped the handle and pulled, glad he was prepared for the impact Neisk’s beauty had on him Neisk stood in the doorway, two bottles of red wine in hand, looking more gorgeous than any man deserved to be. Josh was going to have a conniption.
“Thank you again for the invitation, Chris.”
Neisk’s smooth voice rolled over him like warm water. Soothing yet stimulating. Chris nodded, though he still didn’t know where the balls to invite this man over had come from.
“Come on in, Neisk.” Chris gestured for Neisk to enter and called out for Josh. “Honey!”
Josh bounded down the steps and extended his hand to greet Neisk, freezing when he saw the God of a man who stepped into the lounge room.
Chris spoke into the silence, his confident lawyer freezing at the most important moment.
“Neisk, this is my partner Josh. Josh, Neisk.”
Josh was still staring at him so Neisk stepped forward and extended his hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
Josh nodded and shook the hand that was being offered.
Chris stifled his chuckle. He’d never seen Josh so lost for words.
“Come and sit. Dinner’s ready and I know Josh is hungry.”
Neisk followed him into the dining room and sat where Chris indicated, at the head. He and Josh sat opposite each other so Chris figured Neisk may as well sit at the end.
“Need some help, honey?” Josh asked, his eyes shooting daggers at Chris for the inadequate warning.
Chris smothered another smile. He knew Neisk was exactly what they both liked in a Top. Gorgeous, built, relaxed but confident. Though he honestly didn’t know if Neisk was gay or not.
“No babe, have a seat. Be back in five.”
Chris cooked the fresh pasta and served, listening to Neisk asking Josh intelligent questions about his work.
He grated some fresh parmesan over the pesto and took the bowls in to the dining room, his belly flipping with excitement. Over what, he didn’t know.
“Something quick and easy.” He put the bowls down and went back for the salad.
When he returned, Neisk was giving him one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles. “It’s lovely, Chris. I hope I didn’t disturb any plans you had.”
Chris sat down quickly before his legs gave out and grabbed his wine glass that Josh must have filled.

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Wednesday, October 16, 2013

On Fire by H.C. Brown ARe Bestseller-----Got your copy yet?

Published by Hawt Books Publishing available only at All Romance eBooks

About the book

Gold Coast, Australia. Blake is immediately attracted to the new firefighter at his Golden Beach Station house, Sax Peters. However, the six-foot-five hunk is fifteen years younger and may be a much more smoldering, sexy man than Blake can handle.

An excerpt from the book
Surfers Paradise, Australia.
“Now that’s what I call a wet dream walking.” Grant moaned and cupped his balls. “Two ‘o clock leaning against the bar. Oh, shit he is HOT.”
Blake Harper shifted his gaze to the bar. Oh yeah. The tall, sexy, sun-kissed god turned slowly, giving him the full gamut of a delightfully muscular body. His white shirt, opened to the waist, accentuated his suntanned, hairless six-pack and framed deliciously bitable flat nipples. Blake’s gaze rested hungrily on the unbuttoned jeans, slung low on the man’s hips, showing a band of white boxers. He licked his lips at the prominent bulge and lifted his stare, slowly, taking in every inch of him. Oh boy, this guy ticked every box on his “I want to fuck you” meter.
Deliciously Handsome met his gaze with a slow smile and lifted his glass in a toast. Fuck. Blake’s mouth went dry. He lifted his beer in response and forced a small smile. His stomach dropped to his boots. The young man’s mouth quirked into a satisfied grin. Oh yeah, he’s thrown out his line and damned if I haven’t taken the bait like some sex starved teenager.
“I must be dreaming; he’s coming over!” Grant gripped Blake’s arm. “What are we going to do he is way out of my league?”
“Let go of my arm for a start. I’m not your date.” Blake glared at his friend. “Don’t, for fuck’s sake, say anything stupid. Be cool.”
The sexy man sauntered toward them and Blake’s attention went to the man’s face. Hell, with eyes as deep as the ocean, he looked as if he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. He stopped in front of them and inclined his dark head. His blue gaze moved in slow deliberation over Blake’s physic. Blake cursed under his breath; his traitorous cock was straining against the front of his jeans.
A voice like dark chocolate poured over him. “I know you; your picture is in the firemen’s calendar. You’re Blake, Mister July. Fuck, you’ve got a great ass.” Deliciously Handsome held out his hand. “Sax Peters.”
Blake shook the offered hand firmly. “Blake Harper. This is my friend, Grant Smith.”
“Nice to meet you Grant.” Sax ignored Grant’s outstretched hand and centered his attention on Blake. “I’m the new kid in town. I’ve been transferred from Sydney to the fire department at Golden Beach; I believe you’re based there.” He grinned at Blake and rested a hip on the bar seat beside the round, glass-top table.
Blake swallowed hard. Imagine working with him, I’ll be hard all day long. “Yeah, I’ve been stationed at Golden Beach for a little over five years” He gave Sax’s perfect body a frank appraisal and watched the guy’s six-pack ripple under his gaze. His mouth watered at the sight of suntanned bare flesh. He inhaled and caught a whiff of expensive cologne and clean male musk. He met the man’s amused gaze and forced words post the lump in his throat. “How come you didn’t get into the calendar; you’ve got a pretty fine ass yourself.”
“Thanks.” Sax grinned. “I made the Sydney one, Mister January. So . . . what’s it like working in Queensland? Do you run into any trouble being gay and a firefighter? Do the other guys on your team have any problems with you?”
Blake ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Some of the older men have a problem, but here on the coast, it’s tolerated better than in the country.”
“That’s a relief. Can I buy you a drink? Another beer?” He glanced past Blake and raised a brow at Grant. “You don’t mind if I steal Blake for the night, do you? I wanna ask him about the ground rules at the depot.”
“No, go right ahead and have a chat. I’ll buy the next round.” Grant turned toward the bar.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but to be honest he’s not my type.” Sax winked. “Now you, well I hope we can be friends.”
Blake’s legs turned to jelly. How a stunning, six-foot-five Adonis could be interested in him, a man of thirty-seven, he had no idea. Sure, he kept in shape but he wasn’t what a man in his twenties would be craving. He looked into Sax’s intelligent, oh-so-blue eyes and coughed. “Me? Hell, what have I got that could possibly interest a guy like you?”
“Experience on the job, and I’m guessing between the sheets. You have a hard body with plenty of muscle. I like that and I like a man to look like a man — rugged, not pretty like me.” Sax took a step closer.
Oh Shit, I am way out of my depth here. Blake inhaled Sax’s rich, musky scent mixed with a hint of sandalwood. He cleared his throat in the hope his voice wouldn’t come out in a squeak. “Have you found a place to live?”
“Yeah, I’ve rented an apartment overlooking the beach at Miami. I’m a beach bum in my off time and spend most of my time surfing. When I’m working, I like to run on the sand at daybreak, keeps me fit.”
Sax had moved so close his thigh brushed Blake’s jeans and heat from Sax’s body seared through the denim. So the sexy guy had moved into his suburb and he had the chance to watch the sexy bronzed Aussie jogging every morning before work. Oh my God. He straightened and concentrated on taking the next breath, Blake smiled. “That’s where I live. I live in the Waves building. I run every morning too. It’s strange we haven’t met before.”
“That’s because, I was living with a friend near Surfers, but I moved into the Waves building this morning. I’ll be out there every morning from now on.” Sax flashed a white grin. “This is getting better by the second. How about meeting me on the sand at six tomorrow morning and we’ll run together. My shift starts at nine.”
Blake laughed. Had his fairy godmother waved a magic wand or something, or would he wake up soon? He slapped Sax on the shoulder and allowed his hand to linger. “That sounds like a plan and there’s another coincidence it looks like you’re on my shift too. I’ll be able to introduce you to the boys”
“Sweet.” Sax grinned and inclined his head toward the crowded floor. “Wanna dance?”
Running his fingers over the beer coaster on the table, Blake shrugged. “I’m not comfortable dancing or public displays of affection.”
“You’re in a gay club, so you’re out. Come on, it’s a slow one; come and press that hard body against me.” Sax leaned in close. “I know you want to.”
Blake looked wildly around for Grant. Sax smiled wickedly, grabbed Blake’s hand, and pulled him onto the dance floor.
Blake hung back. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Yes you can. Look, it’s just you, the music and me. Forget about the other guys” Sax squeezed his hand. “Put your arms around me and sway” He grasped Blake’s buttocks and pulling him flush. He buried his face in Blake’s neck and his warm breath teased his ear. “You smell like sin.”
Blake shuffled his feet and moved slowly. The other dancers closed around them and under dimmed lights Blake’s confidence rose. He swayed to the music, his erection pressed hard against Sax’s package. He grasped the back of Sax’s neck, and his fingers brushed the dark hair curling at the nape. One dance ran into three. Sax caressed his ass with his long fingers and the man’s hot breath brushed Blake’s cheek. His cock ached with desire for this man and pressed hard behind the zipper of his jeans.
Without warning, Sax kissed him, dipping his scorching tongue deep into Blake’s mouth. He groaned and without thinking, ground against Sax, bringing a chuckle from his hot inviting mouth.
“You are so fucking hot. Come home with me.” Sax suckled on Blake’s bottom lip. “You want me, I want you. Let’s make it happen.”