EXCERPTS

Worth The Risk

Infinity #1

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Jax said self-derisively as he situated the tub of popcorn between them.

​“You don’t like horror movies?” he asked aghast.  Who didn’t like horror movies?

“No.”  Jax shook his head adamantly.

“What kind of movies do you like?”  Ty munched on popcorn while he waited for Jax to respond.

“Action, Sci-fi, thrillers, biographical,” Jax rattled off.  “Anything but horror.”

Ty’s eyebrow winged up.  “Then why’d you come with me today?”

“Because you invited me,”—Jax trailed a finger down his constantly scruffy cheek—“and I’ll never give up a chance to spend time with you.”

Ty gulped, swallowed hard and whispered, “Oh.”

Jax smiled tenderly, tilted his head up and gave him a lingering kiss, regardless of the fact that they were surrounded by people—a fact that made Ty extremely happy.  Jax wasn’t ashamed to be seen with him, not like… No, he wasn’t going to think about him, especially not when he was with someone as wonderful as Jax.  That was the past and maybe…maybe Jax was…his future?  You’re not supposed to get attached to him, he reminded, and then just as quickly told himself to shut up. I deserve to be happy for once, and Jax makes me happy.

“Jax, I—”

“Sssh,” Jax placed a finger on his lips and then nodded to the screen.  “The movie’s starting.”

Tearing his eyes away from Jax’s warm ones, he stared unseeingly at the big screen.  His heart felt full and suddenly he wanted to be somewhere alone with Jax, but that would have to wait at least until the movie ended.  Maybe it was time to show Jax the trust he’d earned and open up a little more about himself, but for now, they had a movie to watch.   He blinked and focused on the previews, digging for a handful of popcorn and busying his mouth by eating it before he said something unwise—gave away too much way too soon.

About an hour into the flick, he was totally engrossed in the plot as was the rest of the audience who screamed, jumped and gasped in all the right places.  Jax, however, sat there shaking his head the entire time, like he couldn’t understand the appeal; however, during one particularly grueling part, Ty felt him jump in surprise at the plot twist that was revealed on the screen in spectacular fashion.    

Ty chuckled quietly, squeezed his hand and whispered into his ear, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Jax turned to stare into his smiling face, winked and whispered back, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“No need,” he sincerely said leaning into Jax’s shoulder and turning his attention back to the movie with difficulty.

As they shared a tub of popcorn, drank their sodas, and watched a first-rate horror flick, Ty felt more relaxed and…happy than he had in a long time.  It felt great to have someone—not just anyone, but a great guy like Jax—to spend time with instead of hold up in his apartment reading or watching TV alone.  He was really glad Jax had come into his life.  He hoped Jax felt the same way about him.

Two hours and fifteen minutes after entering the movie, they stood and made their way out of the crowded theater.  It was much too soon for him; however, glancing at Jax who had covered his eyes—though he’d never admit it—through most of the movie, Ty knew he was extremely glad to be leaving.

“Next time, I’m picking the movie,” Jax grumbled as they slowly made their way down the aisle.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Ty said, bumping into his shoulder.

“All that blood and guts?”  Jax shuddered at the memory, as they finally cleared the theater and walked outside to their cars.  “How can anyone find that much violence entertaining?”

“I didn’t know you had such a weak stomach,” Ty teased, taking his hand—a simple act that felt entirely too good, especially since Jax didn’t pull away, but instead entwined their fingers and pulled him closer.   “You said you like thrillers.”

“Yes, but psychologically based instead of gory beyond imagination,” Jax groused, adding defensively, “I’ll have you know I have a very strong constitution; however, I don’t want to look at one macabre scene after the other just for the heck of it.  I mean okay, the guy was a sadistic serial killer.  I get that, but did the plot have to be so gruesome?  Did the director have to show the audience the location of every artery and vein in the human body along with how much blood each could express?”  He huffed distastefully.

“Stop exaggerating.”  Ty chuckled.  “They were just giving the audience what they  want—shock and gore.”

“Well, they certainly achieved that,” Jax dryly said.  “I feel like I need a shower to get clean, and all I did was sit there and—unfortunately—watch for two excruciating hours.”

Ty laughed heartily and promised, “Okay, okay.  I won’t drag you to another horror movie…” he paused and with a twinkle in his eyes and amended, “at least not one quite as gory.”

“Thanks.”  Jax’s wry expression made him grin widely.

Ty smirked. “You’re most welcome.”

As they neared their cars, Jax turned to him and asked, “So, are you sick of me yet?”

“Nope,” he easily answered.  He was in no way, shape or form ready for their date to end, and was pleased Jax felt the same way.

“Good.”  Jax released his hand to drape an arm across his shoulders.  “How about dinner?”

“You’re on if…”  He paused and asked himself if he was ready for what he was about to suggest.  Yes, yes I am, he determinedly answered.

“If?”

“If you let me cook for you,” Ty confidently finished his previous thought.

“Really?”  The utter shock etched on Jax’s handsome face made Ty laugh out loud.  “You’re going to tell me where you live?”

“I’ll do better than that.”  He faced him, placed a hand on his chest, moved in close and promised, “I’ll show you.”  He kissed Jax quick and hard, pulled away and ordered, “Follow me.”

“Anywhere.” Jax said. 

Ty turned and gave him a wink then he got into his car and Jax got into his.  He started the engine of his apple-red Mustang and backed out of the parking space.  Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Jax do the same and pull up behind him in his Audi.  After a few minutes, they made it out of the crowded parking lot and onto the equally crowded street.   

Anticipation swelled in him as he led Jax back to his apartment. He’d been toying with inviting Jax to his place for a few days.  He didn’t think the man was a stalker.  They’d spent a week together and he’d been a perfect gentleman every time they’d met—maybe too perfect—but he was willing to take a chance on Jax because the man made him feel happy and safe in a way he hadn’t in years.  Ty wanted more of those feelings. 

He was also ready for some hot and heavy petting with Jax—and maybe even some mind-blowing fucking.   His cock began to inflate at the latter thought.  Time will tell.  First dinner, and then…we’ll see, he promised himself depressing the accelerator down a bit more, anxious to get Jax alone in his private domain.

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Finally Letting Go

Infinity #2

His hands slowly gravitated to Simon’s waist—as if trying to give his brain time to talk himself out of it—flexing when a hard arm snaked around his waist pressing him closer while their pelvises continued to rock together, pull apart before coming back in contact again.  The ritual made Brandon feel like they were fucking.  Oh hell, why did I have to think that?   I’m getting hard.  I can’t let Simon know he’s making me hard, Brandon thought in panic.  He needed space to breathe, think and more importantly, get his traitorous body under control.

​“I need a drink,” Brandon said, stepping away from Simon, at least he tried to, but Simon’s hands tightened on his hips and waist, and the man moved in closer nearly making him moan.  “I don’t—”

 “Shut up and just feel,” Simon ordered, jerking him so close that their hips seemed to merge. 

 He felt every hard inch of Simon and he knew the reverse had to be true.

Shit.  Breathing heavily, he again tried to move back, but Simon wouldn’t let him.  He was so strong and forceful, and that was a big turn-on.  He smelled good too, as usual—hot and spicy—and Lord knows his rock-hard body felt perfect against Brandon’s, like they were corresponding halves of a coin meant to come together.  No, no, no! 

He needed to knock Simon on his perfect ass and walk away—but, he didn’t do that.  Instead, he wrapped one arm around the other man’s waist and the other wound around his neck.  Simon’s eyes darkened at his actions, and he slid a leg between Brandon’s, strategically pressing against his hard prick, making him groan in agony.  From the salacious grin that spread across Simon’s face, he knew the other man felt how erect he was. 

He allowed himself to enjoy being this impossibly close for a few heated minutes before unexpectedly pushing out of Simon’s tempting arms and walking away from him without a word.  If he stayed a second longer, he’d be humping the guy on the dance floor for everyone to see.  He made his way through the other dancers, bypassed the bar—though he really needed a drink—and walked out into a thankfully empty, dark alcove.  He needed to catch his breath and bring his raging lust under control.  Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and pulled strands of hair away from his face

He didn’t know how long he stood there trying to calm himself before his biceps was grasped and a hard body pressed against him, one leg strategically maneuvered between his.  His eyes sprang open to stare into dark emerald ones and he bit his lower lip to stifle a groan when Simon rubbed his body against his, instantly inflating his cock that had finally started to behave itself. 

“What are you doing?”  Brandon pushed against Simon’s hard chest, which failed to move the guy.  Shit, he was solid muscle, and he longed to sink into each hard inch of him.  “Get the fuck off of me, Simon.”

“No, that’s not what you want,” Simon calmly informed.

“That is what I want.  Move,” Brandon ordered, angrier with himself and his stupid attraction to this man.

“I said no,” Simon infuriatingly answered in the same level tones.

“Get…off…me.”

“I’m not on you,” Simon drawled, releasing his arm to ensnarl all ten fingers in his hair.  He let out a soft groan, like he loved the feel of Brandon’s hair and asked, “Want me to throw you down on this pristine floor and show you exactly how it feels to have me on you as opposed to leaning against you like I am right now?”

Brandon’s eyes widened in shock, but also darkened from passion and he whispered,

 “No.”

​“You don’t sound very convincing.”  Simon pressed their hips together in a move that made their erections bump together, sending all the blood in his body pooling and throbbing there.  “Maybe what you’d really like is for me to take you home with me, lay your sexy body down on my bed, crawl up between your hard thighs, and really show you how it feels to have every…single…inch of me pressed against every corresponding inch of you,” Simon whispered the coercing words in Simon’s ear, eliciting a visual that nearly short circuited his brain.  “Naked, hot, sweaty…and oh so fucking hard for each other.”

Brandon fought to keep a groan in his mouth. He knew by the smirk Simon gave him when he pulled back to stare at him that he’d been unsuccessful.  Shit!  He had to get away from this guy before he did something he’d regret—but surely enjoy.

“I’d lie down on top of you,” Simon continued his sensually verbal assault.  “I’d line our hard, dripping cocks up against each other, and grind down against you so damned good, you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven,” he hoarsely promised.

 Damn, the image he evoked was potent as fuck—and it was extremely appealing.  It made Brandon want to strip them both naked right here and now and do exactly what Simon suggested…and much more.

 “Let go of me,” Brandon shakily ordered.

 “Hmmm.  Maybe I will.”  Simon’s eyes darkened to near black as he promised, “In a sec.”

 “Now.”  Brandon tried to sound stern, when he felt anything but.

 “Soon enough,” Simon countered with a smile before his tongue flitted out to lick at Brandon’s slightly-parted lips.

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Breaking The Rules

Infinity #3

(Releasing December 2017) 

“What would you do if a patron asked for a drink you didn’t know how to make?”

I watched as an eyebrow rose, and an arrogant expression spread across Jared’s handsome face.  Resting a hand on his knee, he pinned me with a haughty expression, and opened his mouth to speak.

“There isn’t a drink I don’t know how to make.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right,” he conceitedly assured.

I smiled, and knew I was going to have to test that assertion. Plus, I needed to get him the hell out of my much-too-private office before I jumped him and—shit—that just would not do because I had a fast and hard rule: no extracurricular fun with the employees—ever.  It was a rule I knew was going to be hard to keep if I hired the sexy fucker grinning at me.

I stood and he did the same.  As I rounded my desk, I promised, “I’m going to put your confidence to the test.”

When he walked past me through the door I held open, he gave me a smile, which was potent as fuck up close and personal, and easily prompted, “Please do.”

My cock jumped in interest and I was thankful when the tempting man turned and walked down the hall, allowing me a few seconds to get my shit together.  I directed him to the stairs in lieu of the elevator because I didn’t want to be in that close of confines with him at the moment.

 Once we ended up at the main bar downstairs, I had him set up behind it, and I took a barstool, ready to play a difficult patron.  Jared removed his jacket, tossed it onto the counter and rolled up his sleeves to show off hair-covered, muscled forearms, one of which sported black ink—the ending of some kind of tattoo.  Aw hell, his arms looked as good as I thought they would.

He grabbed a white towel from the counter behind him and draped it over his right shoulder.  Then he placed a killer smile on his kissable mouth and inquired, “Good afternoon sir, what can I get you?”

“A vodka tonic,” I ordered, deciding to start off with something easy.

He turned, picked up a glass and quickly found the liquor quickly and went about efficiently fixing my drink.  When he was done, he placed a black napkin down onto the wooden bar surface, followed by my drink.

“Here you go,” he cordially said.

“Thanks.”  I nodded and sipped the drink.

“Is it to your liking, sir?” he inquired as he wiped down the meticulous bar top with his towel before slinging it over his shoulder again.

“Very good.”  I nodded, pushed the glass aside and then said, “How about a vodka martini.”

“Shaken or stirred?”

“Shaken,” I requested, just to see his muscled back ripple as he prepared my drink.

“Wet or dry?”

“Dry.”

“Very good, sir.”  He turned, fixed my drink and, hell yeah, his back muscle certainly rippled against his shirt as he moved, and damn, I wanted to watch them without the burden of clothes.  I was careful to school my eyes to be indifferent when he turned around and handed the martini to me with a green olive on a toothpick resting in the glass.

Picking up the drink, I sipped it, and it was perfect—just like the man smiling at me.

“Excellent,” I responded, pushing that glass aside also and then ordered, “A Manhattan please.”

“Do you have any special preferences?” he asked.

I mentally gave him huge points for his question.  Many people wanted their Manhattans made a special way, and I was impressed he both knew that, and cared enough to ask the customer how he preferred his drink.

“Surprise me,” I suggested.

With a nod and a wink, he turned, picked up a cocktail shaker, added in ice, whiskey, vermouth and bitters and shook.  Once the drink was mixed, he strained and poured it into a cocktail glass and rubbed orange peel around the rim and added a maraschino cherry before turning and handing it to me.

I nodded my thanks, took a sip and slid it over to join the growing collection at my side.  “Well done.”

“Thanks.”  Jared leaned his hip against the bar again and asked, “So, you come here often?”

“Yep, every night,” I said with a grin.

“Ah, a regular.”  He wiped the bar where my drink had sat.  “I’m new here, but I think I’m going to like it,”—those gorgeous amber eyes slowly perused my face, lingering on my…oh hell…lips—“very much.”

“The owner, Ben, is a great guy to work for,” I added tongue-in-cheek to which he grinned and—oh my God—two deep dimples dotted each cheek, visible under his light beard.  Shit, he had to have dimples to add to that perfect face, didn’t he?

“So I’ve heard.” 

As he stood there smiling at me like he wanted to get to know me much better, I tried to keep myself from choking on my drink. 

“Well,” he began, when I remained tongue tied, “can I get you anything else?”

Yeah, you, shirtless, I naughtily thought.  Clearing my throat aloud I requested, “A Mojito.”

 “Comin’ right up.”  He turned again to retrieve the necessary ingredients to make the cocktail most bartenders hated because it took so long to prepare.  My eyes were again drawn to the rippling muscles of his back as he quickly, expertly worked—finding the fresh mint and muddling it for just the right amount of time, then mixing the other ingredients before pouring it into a metal shaker and giving it a nice vigorous shake, before pouring the concoction into a Collins glass, garnishing it with a sprig of mint and a slice of lime before handing it to me.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” I sipped the minty, cool drink before it, too, joined the discarded glasses to my left.  “Mmm, best Mojito I’ve ever had,” I said, and I meant it. 

“I aim to please.”

His words were innocent enough, but there was a devilish glint in his eyes that made my fingers itch to reach out and grab him.  Refusing to take the dangling bait, I ordered six more drinks, which he made perfectly.  The guy wasn’t lying; he really did know how to make everything—even the very obscure ones I’d ordered.  I knew I’d found my man—I mean my bartender, I hastily corrected myself. 

“So, anything else you want?”  Jared patiently asked after he’d made twelve drinks for me.

I really hadn’t intended to order anything else, but found myself responding, “I’d love a blow job.”

He didn’t blink or look surprised by my choice, but the decadent grin that tilted up the corners of his mouth spoke volumes, even though he innocently responded, “Would you now?” 

“Yep.”  I leaned my elbows on the bar and the devil now perched on my shoulder made me add, “I’m addicted to them.”

“Is that a fact?” Jared turned picked up a shot glass from the back bar and held it in his hand.

“Yep, that’s a fact.” I watched the handsome man in front of me and silently added, especially if you’re giving them.  Oh hell, stop lusting after your soon-to-be employee.

“Well, you’re in luck, then.” 

“Why’s that?”

“It just so happens that blow jobs, “—Jared leaned closer and whispered—“are my specialty.”

My breathing arrested.  My temperature skyrocketed, and I was certain my pupils had dilated to at least twice their normal size.  Fuck, could this man be sexier, or more off limits?  You started this, I reminded myself.  I nearly swallowed my tongue and my cock came to life in my pants, letting me know it really wanted to find out if Jared was telling the truth.  I told it to shut the hell up, and raised an eyebrow at the arrogant man grinning at me.

“Is that right?” I casually inquired.

“Yep.”  He nodded, took a step back from the bar and suggested, “But I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

Then the fucker turned around and began fixing my drink.  When he returned with a shot glass containing a drink resembling a sundae topped with whipped cream and sat it down before me, I had calmed my libido down somewhat, but one heated glance from his gorgeous amber eyes, and my lust skyrocketed again.  I needed the drink just to, hopefully, cool myself down so I could conclude this interview—fast.

“Bottom’s up,” he offered as I lifted the glass to my mouth.

Without a reply, I took a sip of the sweet concoction before replacing it on the bar and sliding it over to rest against the others I’d discarded.  He pointed to my upper lip, and I sent my tongue out to investigate the spot he’d referenced, licking away a dollop of cream.  His eyes left mine for a second, lowering to my mouth to follow my tongue’s progression, before returning to pin me with intense eyes again.

“Well?”  He inquired, and I had to blink several times before I realized to what he was referring.

“It was good,” I absently supplied.

“Only good?”  He tilted his head to the side and drawled, “That’s the first time one of my blow jobs has ever received such a benign compliment.   His smile turned cocky, and slightly dirty as he said, “I’ll have to up my game.” 

He was enjoying flirting with me.  There was no doubt about that—or the fact that I was enjoying flirting with him, immensely.  Shit, if he wasn’t the perfect man for head bartender, I’d be on him in a second, but he was going to be working for me—at Infinity—and as such, he was off limits.  But, that didn’t mean I couldn’t admire from afar. 

“Your game is topnotch,” I reassured, drumming my fingertips onto the smooth surface of the bar to stop from reaching out and grabbing what—who—I wanted.   Shit.

He leaned his hip against the edge of the bar, bringing himself into much closer contact with me. His nearness was really testing my resolve. 

“You think so?”

I forced myself not to lick my  lips in anticipation of tasting him the way I so desperately wanted, and instead gave him a slow once over—I couldn’t help it—and assured, “Definitely.”

He, thankfully, stood upright, moving a little bit away from me, and wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and responded, “Well, that’s a relief.”

My patrons were going to salivate over this man—much like I was in danger of doing.  Yep, Jared was going to do very well at Infinity.  I had no doubt he’d make a small fortune in tips. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked with a raised brow.

About how much I want to grab your shirt, pull you close and ravage that mocking mouth of yours.  And then about laying your muscled body down across the bar, getting you naked, dousing you in tequila from head to toe and having the time of my life licking every single drop off you—especially what I just know is a thick, meaty cock.