Sean Michael's Blog, page 14
December 7, 2013
Smutty Advent, Day 7
Rigger sat at the window, staring out at the world, at the kids and the fallen leaves and the twinkling lights, the photos of his Marines, young and amazing, smiling at him from his bedside table. He smiled, reached out with his daddy's hands, and touched each frame, one after another. "Merry Christmas, y'all. See you soon. Save me a piece of pie."
December 6, 2013
Top Bidder cover!
Check out the cover for my Hammer Club Christmas Story -- coming out next week!
Smutty Advent, Day 6
Contest!
Win a print copy of Burn!
Just send me an email to seanmichaelwrites @ gmail . com (without the spaces) with "Day 6" in the subject line before noon (est) on Monday and I'll pull a random winner Monday afternoon.
Win a print copy of Burn!
Just send me an email to seanmichaelwrites @ gmail . com (without the spaces) with "Day 6" in the subject line before noon (est) on Monday and I'll pull a random winner Monday afternoon.
TGIF!
It's Friday!
Changeling Press has a great contest going on right now -- Win Free Books For A Year in our 10th Annual A Very Changeling Christmas Contest! Buy any Red Velvet Christmas title at ChangelingPress.com before December 31st, 2013, and you're automatically entered to win!
Special Order is a Red Velvet Christmas story -- so it's elligeable, as are the other twelve stories in the series.
Brad loves his partner of ten years, but he and Sandy have fallen into a rut, especially when it comes to the bedroom. Taking the advice of his Wiccan friend, Brad cooks a special love potion into cupcakes in the hopes of spicing up his and Sandy's love life.
When Sandy turns on the charm and the sex after dinner, Brad is overjoyed that his magical cupcakes have done the trick. Or have they? Either way, it just might be a very happy Christmas this year.
Changeling Press has a great contest going on right now -- Win Free Books For A Year in our 10th Annual A Very Changeling Christmas Contest! Buy any Red Velvet Christmas title at ChangelingPress.com before December 31st, 2013, and you're automatically entered to win!
Special Order is a Red Velvet Christmas story -- so it's elligeable, as are the other twelve stories in the series.
Brad loves his partner of ten years, but he and Sandy have fallen into a rut, especially when it comes to the bedroom. Taking the advice of his Wiccan friend, Brad cooks a special love potion into cupcakes in the hopes of spicing up his and Sandy's love life.
When Sandy turns on the charm and the sex after dinner, Brad is overjoyed that his magical cupcakes have done the trick. Or have they? Either way, it just might be a very happy Christmas this year.
December 5, 2013
Special Order now out!
My first Christmas story of the season is now available!
Brad loves his partner of ten years, but he and Sandy have fallen into a rut, especially when it comes to the bedroom. Taking the advice of his Wiccan friend, Brad cooks a special love potion into cupcakes in the hopes of spicing up his and Sandy's love life.
When Sandy turns on the charm and the sex after dinner, Brad is overjoyed that his magical cupcakes have done the trick. Or have they? Either way, it just might be a very happy Christmas this year.
there's an excerpt here
you can buy it here
Brad loves his partner of ten years, but he and Sandy have fallen into a rut, especially when it comes to the bedroom. Taking the advice of his Wiccan friend, Brad cooks a special love potion into cupcakes in the hopes of spicing up his and Sandy's love life.
When Sandy turns on the charm and the sex after dinner, Brad is overjoyed that his magical cupcakes have done the trick. Or have they? Either way, it just might be a very happy Christmas this year.
there's an excerpt here
you can buy it here
Smutty Advent, Day 5
Tanny looked at the calendar, then at Jack. "Seriously?"
Jack nodded happily, ball on his elf hat bobbing. "You're Mr. April."
There was a picture of him, laughing at something someone said, hair down and loose at the Hammer.
"Mr. April."
"Huh-huh. Jim is Mr. January. He's in a kilt."
Oh, Jim was going to kill Jack.
"Oh. When are you taking him his copy for Marcus?" He wouldn't miss this for the world.
"Now. Wanna come with?"
"Absolutely."
Jack nodded happily, ball on his elf hat bobbing. "You're Mr. April."
There was a picture of him, laughing at something someone said, hair down and loose at the Hammer.
"Mr. April."
"Huh-huh. Jim is Mr. January. He's in a kilt."
Oh, Jim was going to kill Jack.
"Oh. When are you taking him his copy for Marcus?" He wouldn't miss this for the world.
"Now. Wanna come with?"
"Absolutely."
December 4, 2013
Smutty Advent, day 4
Harry paced the hospital waiting room. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or concerned when Peter showed up, striding toward him.
He held up a hand. "He's fine. It'll heal."
One of Peter's eyebrows went up.
"They tried to put up the Christmas lights," he told Peter.
"Oh, God."
Check out Harry, Jason, Peter and Sammy in Between Friends, When Harry met Jason, Sammy's Place and Trial by Fire.
He held up a hand. "He's fine. It'll heal."
One of Peter's eyebrows went up.
"They tried to put up the Christmas lights," he told Peter.
"Oh, God."
Check out Harry, Jason, Peter and Sammy in Between Friends, When Harry met Jason, Sammy's Place and Trial by Fire.
December 3, 2013
Smutty Advent, day 3
Sammy looked at his arm. A bright red cast covered him from shoulder to wrist. There was no way Peter was going to miss this. No way.
How was he supposed to make cookies?
How was he supposed to make cookies?
Author Spotlight Tuesday -- Tuesday Morrigan
What's your favorite Christmas drink?
Depending on the time of the day, ( :D) my favorite Christmas drinks are peppermint mochas or Bailey's Irish Creme. Baileys is kind of a tradition in my family. My mother used to give us little sips of it when we were small each year during the holidays.
Favorite Christmas food?
My family is from Nigeria, so it would have to be anything Nigerian my mom feels like making that holiday. We always get together at her house and have a mixture of Nigerian and American food. Jollof rice or shrimp fried rice with plantain next to buffalo chicken wings and jambalaya.
Favorite Christmas story?
It's a tie between Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and The Grinch.
What prompted you to write A Vampire for Christmas?
It was a combination of things really. At the time I was visiting my sister in Miami. She lives in this lovely high rise condo and one of the walls in the living room is glass. Floor to Ceiling. She has curtains but she rarely pulls them. Luckily there is isn't a building immediately next to her, but I was joking about her having nosy neighbors soon as a new complex was being constructed in the plot next door.
We cracked a few jokes about our experiences with too close for comforts apartments in different cities. It got me thinking about the many things you discover about your neighbors accidentally. Later I saw the cover of an old Holiday CD. Things flowed from there.
Kyle Lepiz knows his neighbor isn’t quite human and he’s right. Kyle just never expected him to be so dark, seductive…or undead.
Kyle is a hacker determined to prove the government is experimenting on soldiers. Lucky for him, the proof is living right next door. Dieter has to be a government-created superhuman—no mere mortal could be that good-looking. All Kyle has to do is rein in his libido long enough to convince Dieter to spill his secrets.
Dieter is a vampire on the run from an old-fashioned and overbearing family. His mother wants grandchildren, his grandfather wants power and both of them are convinced Dieter’s marriage to a rich heiress is the solution. The last thing the harried vampire needs is a crazy-ass neighbor stalking him through the streets of the city, weirding out any man Dieter tries to date and severely impeding the vampire’s mission to find his True Mate—the one person good enough to put an end to his family’s plans for an arranged marriage. If only there were some way to get the handsome lunatic off Dieter’s back.
The situation comes to a head when Dieter finally confronts Kyle about his ‘surveillance’. A flash of inspiration later, a deal is struck. Dieter will answer Kyle’s questions in exchange for erotic access to Kyle’s body. Kyle will get the information he so desires, and Dieter will be able to work off some of the tension wearing him down. But as the clothes come off and the information comes out, will either one of them keep his head long enough to remember why they struck the bargain? Will they even care?
buy links: https://www.totallybound.com/a-vampire-for-christmas
click for excerpt
A Vampire for Christmas Excerpt
By reading any further, you are stating that you are 18 years of age, or over.
If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
Copyright © Tuesday Morrigan, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.
Excerpt From: A Vampire for Christmas
“Why are you following me?” Mossel rumbled, his voice a deep bass that sent chills that had nothing to do with fear down Kyle’s spine.
Right, body, don’t get a hard-on for the guy who wants to kill you, he thought as he looked up into Mossel’s face. Impossibly, Mossel was even more handsome this close, and Kyle was right. He did have light-colored eyes. They were a lovely shade of grey so light they were almost silver.
“Hey! I asked you a question. Why are you following me?”
Kyle almost moaned out loud at the second sound of Mossel’s voice. He’d been a little too preoccupied with his eyes to really hear him the first time he’d spoken. Mossel had a western European accent and Kyle had always had a thing for European accents, especially something that reminded him of that part of the continent. Mossel didn’t sound French or English, so Kyle guessed German.
“Are you German?” his mouth asked before his mind could process the question. He almost cursed himself out.
What was wrong with him?
Mossel blinked at him in surprise and for one moment his face went slack with shock before it tightened in anger. He took a menacing step toward him and Kyle lifted his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Mossel didn’t stop and Kyle found himself backed up against the wall of one of the buildings. Mossel’s long length was pressed against his. “I’m not going to ask again,” he drawled out slowly. Kyle prayed Mossel couldn’t feel his growing erection, but he doubted his prayers would be answered considering just how close they were.
He really, really should have stayed home tonight. Maybe watched a movie—even a sappy romantic comedy was better than this frightening, and admittedly arousing, fuck-up.
“I am seriously considering calling the police.”
That was bad, all kinds of bad. His current job sucked. It was boring as hell and his boss was a Bitch with a capital B. He made a good living, great actually, as a manager in the IT department, but every eight-hour shift seemed to suck the life out of him. He was in the process of looking for another job and there was no way ‘arrested for harassment’ would look good.
“Uh,” Kyle answered intelligently then closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the look of incredulity on that gorgeous face. He tried again. “I know what you are.”
Mossel didn’t reply.
Eyes closed, Kyle quickly found himself immersed in the feel of the hard body against his.
Mossel towered over Kyle. The thick wool of his coat didn’t allow Kyle to feel his body heat, but this close, the rich scent of his sandalwood and musk cologne was almost overwhelming. Kyle could feel the rise and fall of his every breath. The friction from Mossel’s coat and the soldier’s palms against Kyle’s body filled his senses. He couldn’t seem to feel anything that wasn’t intimately associated with Dieter’s body.
Mossel took a half step back. Kyle swallowed a shortened breath. He could breathe without taking in a lungful of the other man’s cologne. What a letdown!
“Do you?”
“What?” Kyle’s eyes popped open in surprise. He looked at the handsome brunet, trying to figure out what he was talking about. His confusion must have been clear on his face because Mossel sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “You said you knew what I was. Just what am I?”
Embarrassment flushed through him and Kyle parted his lips twice before the words would come out. “You’re a genetic experiment by the government.”
Mossel stilled and his jaw dropped. For a few seconds he was frozen in time like a perfect picture. He didn’t move and his expression didn’t change. Then he lowered his arms and threw his head back. Ringing laughter filled the alley and Kyle could easily feel his flush deepening.
“You can deny it, but I know it’s true,” he blustered, angry and humiliated.
Mossel shook his head in clear exasperation. “Right.” He sighed and turned, giving Kyle his broad back. “Hungry?” he called over one wide shoulder.
“What?”
“I asked if you were hungry. I’m starving and I refuse to allow you to throw me off my meal. Come along, little human. Angelino’s has the best carbonara outside of Italy.”
Little human. Kyle shivered and looked sharply at Mossel’s departing form. He wanted answers and he had set out on this journey to discover Mossel’s secrets. He owed Eduardo that much. Kyle knew Mossel’s first and last name and was talented enough that he could hack a few government agencies’ networks and discover a little more about the European.
But there was nothing like hearing the words from the source.
“At least I’m wearing clean underwear,” he muttered, thinking that if worst came to worst he wouldn’t shame himself with dirty undergarments. His mother would be so mortified if she had to identify his body when he was wearing dirty drawers. After taking a mood-fortifying, chest-expanding breath, he followed Mossel.
The maître d’, a pale blond with dark eyes, sent him a shark’s grin before stepping from behind his perch. “Lazio, I’m going to show Dieter’s date to his table,” he called out just before he stopped in front of Kyle. To his dying day, Kyle would deny that he released a little yelp at the sharp smile.
Uncomfortable as hell, Kyle followed the blond man through the restaurant. Gaze darting around the place, it quickly became apparent to Kyle that the bistro was out of his price range and that he wasn’t dressed well enough to dine there.
It also hadn’t escaped his notice that he wasn’t nearly pretty enough to even work there. Beautiful men and women were everywhere he looked, inhumanely gorgeous people of every color and size. Kyle almost kissed the table in thanks when they finally reached it. He was that glad he was no longer walking among the beautiful people. It was a little like strolling through a living, breathing designer jeans advertisement.
“Freaky,” he muttered.
“Pardon me?”
He snapped to attention with all the subtlety of a slap to the face. “What?” he asked the blond who’d spoken.
Warm brown eyes looked at him in consideration for several harrowing seconds before the blond shook his head. “Sorry, I thought you were speaking to me.” He held out his arm.
Kyle’s gaze followed the straight line his limb made to the occupied table. Dieter Mossel. Gorgeous super-soldier. This dinner was going to be so awkward.
Hands shaking, Kyle pulled out the chair across from Mossel and took a seat. Almost the moment his butt touched the chair, he grabbed the glass of water in front of him and downed half the cup. He would have preferred tequila, but stalkers couldn’t be choosers.
Brain like a kicked-over beehive, his thoughts flew swiftly and angrily through his mind. He barely noticed the maître d’ hand them menus or when Mossel ordered. For the both of them.
Was this a date? It was starting to feel like the most awkward date ever.
Mossel grabbed his glass and took a sip. Belatedly, Kyle realized he’d never released his own goblet. Carefully, he lowered it to the red-clothed table.
“You’ve been watching me for a long time.”
Kyle didn’t reply. He couldn’t. His tongue was frozen and swollen and his mouth was dry and really what did a man say to that?
“I thought it was infatuation. I believed you had a crush on me, but it’s been, what, five weeks now? Every night.” He sent Kyle a considering look. “That takes devotion. Crushes do not result in devotion. Obsession does.”
“I’m not obsessed with you.” The words came hot and quickly. It seemed his tongue worked perfectly fine when it wanted. He lifted his head and stared at the other man. “I am just determined. I know what you are and I fully intend to expose the government’s horrendous actions. Soldiers give this country everything and yet the government wants even more from them.”
“You’re serious?”
“As an old man with a heart attack,” he replied.
Mossel simply looked him over for several long seconds. Gaze shuttered, he sat back. “Let me get this straight. You’re sure I’m the result of the government experimenting on its armed forces in an attempt to create the perfect super-soldier.”
“Yes.”
“Right, but what about me being a citizen of Germany, rather than America?” he asked. He lifted his glass to his luscious mouth.
As he took a sip, Kyle tried to formulate an answer. It was damned hard to do when he couldn’t stop staring at the long column of Mossel’s throat and imagining him swallowing something a little more potent than red wine. He squirmed in his seat. “Uh, Germany is an ally of the US and I suspect that they’ve shared the data with your country.”
Mossel lowered the glass. “What’s the point of having a super-soldier if you’re going to give all your hard-earned research and information away? Even if you are giving it to an ally?”
“Right.” Kyle leaned on the table and chewed his left thumbnail. It was a habit he couldn’t kick when he really started thinking or was frustrated as hell.
“Dinner is served.”
He sat up when the waiter, a different man, returned with their food. Neither man talked while the food was distributed and for several minutes after. Mossel’s attention was consumed by his meal and Kyle was picking at his food as his thoughts volleyed between wondering how in the world he’d got himself in this situation and why his ‘super-soldier’ was a citizen of Germany.
“Why don’t you just ask me what I am?”
He lifted his gaze swiftly at the question. He hadn’t really considered it could be so simple. People didn’t give information, especially the kind he wanted, if they had another option. “Are you human?” he dared.
“No.”
He stilled even as his heart jumped. Mossel was answering his questions. “Are you an alien?”
“Nope,” Mossel replied, popping the last syllable as he twirled his fork through this spaghetti.
He wasn’t human and he wasn’t an alien. “And you’re not a superhuman?”
Mossel took a bite, chewed slowly, savoring the food—and Kyle was not jealous of the little strings of pasta—and swallowed. “I am, but I’m not a government experiment. I’m naturally superior.”
Naturally superior. “Mutant?” Kyle asked, sure that was the answer.
“Of a sort.”
Officially stumped, Kyle asked the question he should have voiced originally. “What are you?”
Mossel grinned wickedly. “Me, I’m a vampire.”
It took him a moment to process Mossel’s words, because like a computer with bad data, his mind just couldn’t compute. Then he laughed for so long and so hard, he almost knocked over his barely touched plate. Tears in his eyes, he sat straight and looked at the handsome brunet. “Vampires aren’t real.”
Mossel’s grin widened. “Aren’t we?”
“No, they are not,” Kyle replied. He stabbed his fork angrily into his lasagna. “Fine. I get it, you don’t want to tell me what you are, but can you at least confirm some things for me?” He cut off a small slice of his food and shoved it into his mouth.
Mossel eyed him, understanding bright in his grey gaze. “And allow you to reach the proper conclusions on your own?” he purred.
Swallowing his food before answering, Kye replied. “Yes.”
“What will you give me in response? You still haven’t provided me with a reason not to have you arrested for harassment.”
Great! He’d kind of hoped Mossel had forgotten all about that. Voice whisper-thin, he asked, “What do you want?”
“What are you offering?” Mossel countered almost immediately.
Kyle considered playing hardball, but he didn’t have it in him and he wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t know Mossel had him at a distinct disadvantage. He didn’t have a record and he wasn’t about to gain one tonight.
“Anything,” he replied. He wanted to prove Eduardo hadn’t just snapped and killed himself, but that the government pushed the reservist a little too hard, drugged him a little too much, and that was what had finally sent his cousin over the edge. “But I don’t have much money,” he qualified. “I have my 401k and some emergency savings. I suppose I could clear those out, depending on what you are willing to tell me.”
“I have funds, plenty of funds.”
Right. Luxury apartment. Designer clothes. Restaurant so expensive it didn’t even list the prices on the menu.
“What if I said I wanted you?”
“Wait. Wait! Do you want to suck my blood?” Kyle chuckled, thinking about Mossel’s claim that he was a vampire.
The guy had to be joking. Why would he want anything from Kyle but his money? A guy like him, who looked like that, could pick any man or woman on the street and easily get them into his bed. He had to be joking. Or crazy. “Is that what you’re after? An easy meal?”
“I’m not hungry for food.” Mossel lifted up his laden fork. “I’m not opposed if you’re offering, but I was hoping to suck something else.”
Kyle flushed and his cock jerked in his running pants. Thank goodness he was wearing something loose or he might be embarrassing himself quite a lot today.
“Better yet, how about you get to sucking,” Mossel purred.
Kyle swallowed thickly, grabbed his glass of wine and downed it in one while trying not to picture himself dropping to his knees, undoing the closure on Mossel’s thousand-dollar pants and taking that big cock into his mouth. He failed. Spectacularly.
“I’m serious, you know?” Mossel paused and waited on Kyle’s response.
Numbly, Kyle nodded.
“I am willing to trade the information I have for your body. Can you handle that? I am a demanding lover.”
“Demanding?” Kyle croaked.
Mossel simply smiled wickedly.
“Oh, Jobs!”
Mossel arched an eyebrow. “Jobs?”
Kyle shifted in his seat. “Uh, Steve Jobs. He was awesome.” He shrugged and dropped his gaze, but not before he spotted Mossel’s amused smile. “Right,” Kyle said and grabbed his water glass since his wine glass was empty. Mossel must have noticed. He grabbed the bottle and poured some for him.
“I understand that I’ve given you a lot to think about. I’ll give you tonight and tomorrow to think things through. I expect an answer two days from now.” He dropped his fork and pushed back from the table.
Mossel had made his demand and now Kyle had options. He coughed and nodded his understanding.
The taller brunet stood from his seat and took one, then another, step away from the table. The band around Kyle’s chest loosened with every inch that separated them until he could take a lung-filling breath. “I will see you in two days. Same time,” Mossel called before walking out of the restaurant.
Kyle waited until he couldn’t see Mossel’s lithe form before slumping to the table. A few minutes later, he defrosted enough to grab the half-finished bottle of wine and put it to him.
Depending on the time of the day, ( :D) my favorite Christmas drinks are peppermint mochas or Bailey's Irish Creme. Baileys is kind of a tradition in my family. My mother used to give us little sips of it when we were small each year during the holidays.
Favorite Christmas food?
My family is from Nigeria, so it would have to be anything Nigerian my mom feels like making that holiday. We always get together at her house and have a mixture of Nigerian and American food. Jollof rice or shrimp fried rice with plantain next to buffalo chicken wings and jambalaya.
Favorite Christmas story?
It's a tie between Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and The Grinch.
What prompted you to write A Vampire for Christmas?
It was a combination of things really. At the time I was visiting my sister in Miami. She lives in this lovely high rise condo and one of the walls in the living room is glass. Floor to Ceiling. She has curtains but she rarely pulls them. Luckily there is isn't a building immediately next to her, but I was joking about her having nosy neighbors soon as a new complex was being constructed in the plot next door.
We cracked a few jokes about our experiences with too close for comforts apartments in different cities. It got me thinking about the many things you discover about your neighbors accidentally. Later I saw the cover of an old Holiday CD. Things flowed from there.
Kyle Lepiz knows his neighbor isn’t quite human and he’s right. Kyle just never expected him to be so dark, seductive…or undead.
Kyle is a hacker determined to prove the government is experimenting on soldiers. Lucky for him, the proof is living right next door. Dieter has to be a government-created superhuman—no mere mortal could be that good-looking. All Kyle has to do is rein in his libido long enough to convince Dieter to spill his secrets.
Dieter is a vampire on the run from an old-fashioned and overbearing family. His mother wants grandchildren, his grandfather wants power and both of them are convinced Dieter’s marriage to a rich heiress is the solution. The last thing the harried vampire needs is a crazy-ass neighbor stalking him through the streets of the city, weirding out any man Dieter tries to date and severely impeding the vampire’s mission to find his True Mate—the one person good enough to put an end to his family’s plans for an arranged marriage. If only there were some way to get the handsome lunatic off Dieter’s back.
The situation comes to a head when Dieter finally confronts Kyle about his ‘surveillance’. A flash of inspiration later, a deal is struck. Dieter will answer Kyle’s questions in exchange for erotic access to Kyle’s body. Kyle will get the information he so desires, and Dieter will be able to work off some of the tension wearing him down. But as the clothes come off and the information comes out, will either one of them keep his head long enough to remember why they struck the bargain? Will they even care?
buy links: https://www.totallybound.com/a-vampire-for-christmas
click for excerpt
A Vampire for Christmas Excerpt
By reading any further, you are stating that you are 18 years of age, or over.
If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
Copyright © Tuesday Morrigan, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.
Excerpt From: A Vampire for Christmas
“Why are you following me?” Mossel rumbled, his voice a deep bass that sent chills that had nothing to do with fear down Kyle’s spine.
Right, body, don’t get a hard-on for the guy who wants to kill you, he thought as he looked up into Mossel’s face. Impossibly, Mossel was even more handsome this close, and Kyle was right. He did have light-colored eyes. They were a lovely shade of grey so light they were almost silver.
“Hey! I asked you a question. Why are you following me?”
Kyle almost moaned out loud at the second sound of Mossel’s voice. He’d been a little too preoccupied with his eyes to really hear him the first time he’d spoken. Mossel had a western European accent and Kyle had always had a thing for European accents, especially something that reminded him of that part of the continent. Mossel didn’t sound French or English, so Kyle guessed German.
“Are you German?” his mouth asked before his mind could process the question. He almost cursed himself out.
What was wrong with him?
Mossel blinked at him in surprise and for one moment his face went slack with shock before it tightened in anger. He took a menacing step toward him and Kyle lifted his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Mossel didn’t stop and Kyle found himself backed up against the wall of one of the buildings. Mossel’s long length was pressed against his. “I’m not going to ask again,” he drawled out slowly. Kyle prayed Mossel couldn’t feel his growing erection, but he doubted his prayers would be answered considering just how close they were.
He really, really should have stayed home tonight. Maybe watched a movie—even a sappy romantic comedy was better than this frightening, and admittedly arousing, fuck-up.
“I am seriously considering calling the police.”
That was bad, all kinds of bad. His current job sucked. It was boring as hell and his boss was a Bitch with a capital B. He made a good living, great actually, as a manager in the IT department, but every eight-hour shift seemed to suck the life out of him. He was in the process of looking for another job and there was no way ‘arrested for harassment’ would look good.
“Uh,” Kyle answered intelligently then closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the look of incredulity on that gorgeous face. He tried again. “I know what you are.”
Mossel didn’t reply.
Eyes closed, Kyle quickly found himself immersed in the feel of the hard body against his.
Mossel towered over Kyle. The thick wool of his coat didn’t allow Kyle to feel his body heat, but this close, the rich scent of his sandalwood and musk cologne was almost overwhelming. Kyle could feel the rise and fall of his every breath. The friction from Mossel’s coat and the soldier’s palms against Kyle’s body filled his senses. He couldn’t seem to feel anything that wasn’t intimately associated with Dieter’s body.
Mossel took a half step back. Kyle swallowed a shortened breath. He could breathe without taking in a lungful of the other man’s cologne. What a letdown!
“Do you?”
“What?” Kyle’s eyes popped open in surprise. He looked at the handsome brunet, trying to figure out what he was talking about. His confusion must have been clear on his face because Mossel sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “You said you knew what I was. Just what am I?”
Embarrassment flushed through him and Kyle parted his lips twice before the words would come out. “You’re a genetic experiment by the government.”
Mossel stilled and his jaw dropped. For a few seconds he was frozen in time like a perfect picture. He didn’t move and his expression didn’t change. Then he lowered his arms and threw his head back. Ringing laughter filled the alley and Kyle could easily feel his flush deepening.
“You can deny it, but I know it’s true,” he blustered, angry and humiliated.
Mossel shook his head in clear exasperation. “Right.” He sighed and turned, giving Kyle his broad back. “Hungry?” he called over one wide shoulder.
“What?”
“I asked if you were hungry. I’m starving and I refuse to allow you to throw me off my meal. Come along, little human. Angelino’s has the best carbonara outside of Italy.”
Little human. Kyle shivered and looked sharply at Mossel’s departing form. He wanted answers and he had set out on this journey to discover Mossel’s secrets. He owed Eduardo that much. Kyle knew Mossel’s first and last name and was talented enough that he could hack a few government agencies’ networks and discover a little more about the European.
But there was nothing like hearing the words from the source.
“At least I’m wearing clean underwear,” he muttered, thinking that if worst came to worst he wouldn’t shame himself with dirty undergarments. His mother would be so mortified if she had to identify his body when he was wearing dirty drawers. After taking a mood-fortifying, chest-expanding breath, he followed Mossel.
The maître d’, a pale blond with dark eyes, sent him a shark’s grin before stepping from behind his perch. “Lazio, I’m going to show Dieter’s date to his table,” he called out just before he stopped in front of Kyle. To his dying day, Kyle would deny that he released a little yelp at the sharp smile.
Uncomfortable as hell, Kyle followed the blond man through the restaurant. Gaze darting around the place, it quickly became apparent to Kyle that the bistro was out of his price range and that he wasn’t dressed well enough to dine there.
It also hadn’t escaped his notice that he wasn’t nearly pretty enough to even work there. Beautiful men and women were everywhere he looked, inhumanely gorgeous people of every color and size. Kyle almost kissed the table in thanks when they finally reached it. He was that glad he was no longer walking among the beautiful people. It was a little like strolling through a living, breathing designer jeans advertisement.
“Freaky,” he muttered.
“Pardon me?”
He snapped to attention with all the subtlety of a slap to the face. “What?” he asked the blond who’d spoken.
Warm brown eyes looked at him in consideration for several harrowing seconds before the blond shook his head. “Sorry, I thought you were speaking to me.” He held out his arm.
Kyle’s gaze followed the straight line his limb made to the occupied table. Dieter Mossel. Gorgeous super-soldier. This dinner was going to be so awkward.
Hands shaking, Kyle pulled out the chair across from Mossel and took a seat. Almost the moment his butt touched the chair, he grabbed the glass of water in front of him and downed half the cup. He would have preferred tequila, but stalkers couldn’t be choosers.
Brain like a kicked-over beehive, his thoughts flew swiftly and angrily through his mind. He barely noticed the maître d’ hand them menus or when Mossel ordered. For the both of them.
Was this a date? It was starting to feel like the most awkward date ever.
Mossel grabbed his glass and took a sip. Belatedly, Kyle realized he’d never released his own goblet. Carefully, he lowered it to the red-clothed table.
“You’ve been watching me for a long time.”
Kyle didn’t reply. He couldn’t. His tongue was frozen and swollen and his mouth was dry and really what did a man say to that?
“I thought it was infatuation. I believed you had a crush on me, but it’s been, what, five weeks now? Every night.” He sent Kyle a considering look. “That takes devotion. Crushes do not result in devotion. Obsession does.”
“I’m not obsessed with you.” The words came hot and quickly. It seemed his tongue worked perfectly fine when it wanted. He lifted his head and stared at the other man. “I am just determined. I know what you are and I fully intend to expose the government’s horrendous actions. Soldiers give this country everything and yet the government wants even more from them.”
“You’re serious?”
“As an old man with a heart attack,” he replied.
Mossel simply looked him over for several long seconds. Gaze shuttered, he sat back. “Let me get this straight. You’re sure I’m the result of the government experimenting on its armed forces in an attempt to create the perfect super-soldier.”
“Yes.”
“Right, but what about me being a citizen of Germany, rather than America?” he asked. He lifted his glass to his luscious mouth.
As he took a sip, Kyle tried to formulate an answer. It was damned hard to do when he couldn’t stop staring at the long column of Mossel’s throat and imagining him swallowing something a little more potent than red wine. He squirmed in his seat. “Uh, Germany is an ally of the US and I suspect that they’ve shared the data with your country.”
Mossel lowered the glass. “What’s the point of having a super-soldier if you’re going to give all your hard-earned research and information away? Even if you are giving it to an ally?”
“Right.” Kyle leaned on the table and chewed his left thumbnail. It was a habit he couldn’t kick when he really started thinking or was frustrated as hell.
“Dinner is served.”
He sat up when the waiter, a different man, returned with their food. Neither man talked while the food was distributed and for several minutes after. Mossel’s attention was consumed by his meal and Kyle was picking at his food as his thoughts volleyed between wondering how in the world he’d got himself in this situation and why his ‘super-soldier’ was a citizen of Germany.
“Why don’t you just ask me what I am?”
He lifted his gaze swiftly at the question. He hadn’t really considered it could be so simple. People didn’t give information, especially the kind he wanted, if they had another option. “Are you human?” he dared.
“No.”
He stilled even as his heart jumped. Mossel was answering his questions. “Are you an alien?”
“Nope,” Mossel replied, popping the last syllable as he twirled his fork through this spaghetti.
He wasn’t human and he wasn’t an alien. “And you’re not a superhuman?”
Mossel took a bite, chewed slowly, savoring the food—and Kyle was not jealous of the little strings of pasta—and swallowed. “I am, but I’m not a government experiment. I’m naturally superior.”
Naturally superior. “Mutant?” Kyle asked, sure that was the answer.
“Of a sort.”
Officially stumped, Kyle asked the question he should have voiced originally. “What are you?”
Mossel grinned wickedly. “Me, I’m a vampire.”
It took him a moment to process Mossel’s words, because like a computer with bad data, his mind just couldn’t compute. Then he laughed for so long and so hard, he almost knocked over his barely touched plate. Tears in his eyes, he sat straight and looked at the handsome brunet. “Vampires aren’t real.”
Mossel’s grin widened. “Aren’t we?”
“No, they are not,” Kyle replied. He stabbed his fork angrily into his lasagna. “Fine. I get it, you don’t want to tell me what you are, but can you at least confirm some things for me?” He cut off a small slice of his food and shoved it into his mouth.
Mossel eyed him, understanding bright in his grey gaze. “And allow you to reach the proper conclusions on your own?” he purred.
Swallowing his food before answering, Kye replied. “Yes.”
“What will you give me in response? You still haven’t provided me with a reason not to have you arrested for harassment.”
Great! He’d kind of hoped Mossel had forgotten all about that. Voice whisper-thin, he asked, “What do you want?”
“What are you offering?” Mossel countered almost immediately.
Kyle considered playing hardball, but he didn’t have it in him and he wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t know Mossel had him at a distinct disadvantage. He didn’t have a record and he wasn’t about to gain one tonight.
“Anything,” he replied. He wanted to prove Eduardo hadn’t just snapped and killed himself, but that the government pushed the reservist a little too hard, drugged him a little too much, and that was what had finally sent his cousin over the edge. “But I don’t have much money,” he qualified. “I have my 401k and some emergency savings. I suppose I could clear those out, depending on what you are willing to tell me.”
“I have funds, plenty of funds.”
Right. Luxury apartment. Designer clothes. Restaurant so expensive it didn’t even list the prices on the menu.
“What if I said I wanted you?”
“Wait. Wait! Do you want to suck my blood?” Kyle chuckled, thinking about Mossel’s claim that he was a vampire.
The guy had to be joking. Why would he want anything from Kyle but his money? A guy like him, who looked like that, could pick any man or woman on the street and easily get them into his bed. He had to be joking. Or crazy. “Is that what you’re after? An easy meal?”
“I’m not hungry for food.” Mossel lifted up his laden fork. “I’m not opposed if you’re offering, but I was hoping to suck something else.”
Kyle flushed and his cock jerked in his running pants. Thank goodness he was wearing something loose or he might be embarrassing himself quite a lot today.
“Better yet, how about you get to sucking,” Mossel purred.
Kyle swallowed thickly, grabbed his glass of wine and downed it in one while trying not to picture himself dropping to his knees, undoing the closure on Mossel’s thousand-dollar pants and taking that big cock into his mouth. He failed. Spectacularly.
“I’m serious, you know?” Mossel paused and waited on Kyle’s response.
Numbly, Kyle nodded.
“I am willing to trade the information I have for your body. Can you handle that? I am a demanding lover.”
“Demanding?” Kyle croaked.
Mossel simply smiled wickedly.
“Oh, Jobs!”
Mossel arched an eyebrow. “Jobs?”
Kyle shifted in his seat. “Uh, Steve Jobs. He was awesome.” He shrugged and dropped his gaze, but not before he spotted Mossel’s amused smile. “Right,” Kyle said and grabbed his water glass since his wine glass was empty. Mossel must have noticed. He grabbed the bottle and poured some for him.
“I understand that I’ve given you a lot to think about. I’ll give you tonight and tomorrow to think things through. I expect an answer two days from now.” He dropped his fork and pushed back from the table.
Mossel had made his demand and now Kyle had options. He coughed and nodded his understanding.
The taller brunet stood from his seat and took one, then another, step away from the table. The band around Kyle’s chest loosened with every inch that separated them until he could take a lung-filling breath. “I will see you in two days. Same time,” Mossel called before walking out of the restaurant.
Kyle waited until he couldn’t see Mossel’s lithe form before slumping to the table. A few minutes later, he defrosted enough to grab the half-finished bottle of wine and put it to him.
December 2, 2013
Smutty Advent, day 2
"Peter I need your help." Harry's voice was clipped. "It's urgent."
Peter turned off his phone and groaned. What had Jason and Samuel done now?
Harry and Peter belong to Jason and Sammy in the Between Friends world.
Peter turned off his phone and groaned. What had Jason and Samuel done now?
Harry and Peter belong to Jason and Sammy in the Between Friends world.
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