Sean Michael's Blog, page 50
June 9, 2012
Dirty Kisses is number one!
Dirty Kisses is number one bestseller at Amber Allure for May! Thank you to my readers!
I so love its cover!
(I can't stop talking in exclamation marks!)
I so love its cover!
(I can't stop talking in exclamation marks!)
June 7, 2012
Thrusday Three
Touch and Trust, a Velvet Glove story is now out.Sampson is too tall to be anything but awkward outside, but in the Velvet Glove he shines, confident in his ability as a top. When he meets Alain, it breaks Sampson's heart. Alain has been without a top, and any kind of touch, for too long. Can Sampson prove himself and win Alain's heart?
Originally published on The Turn of the Screw, and in the print book Velvet Glove, Volume 2
read a sample here
buy it here
This is the third Thursday in a row that has really, really felt like a Friday to me. Very strange and I wish it would stop!
Torquere is having a sale -- beach2012 gets you 20% off until Monday night.
June 5, 2012
My God It's No Longer Monday
Did I mention here that I managed to squeak in under the wire and get my newsletter out on the very last day of May? Well I did. You can find it here. Two contests, a Jarheads Eraseboard Moment, another chapter of One Kitty to Join Them, upcoming and recent releases, along with a recipe.
I have a story out tomorrow -- Touch and Trust, a Velvet Glove story. This is from Velvet Glove, Volume 2, the story of Sampson and Alain:
Sampson is too tall to be anything but awkward outside, but in the Velvet Glove he shines, confident in his ability as a top. When he meets Alain, it breaks Sampson's heart. Alain has been without a top, and any kind of touch, for too long. Can Sampson prove himself and win Alain's heart?
I'm scheduled to do a blog post today on the rainbow blog at TRS. I have no clue what I'm going to say... I may just go with a line from the stories I'm currently actively working on...
Today you can also find me guest posting at Ebook Addict's Reviews: Werewolves, or the Grr factor.
Still looking to be more organized in June. I'm not holding my breath. ;)
I have a story out tomorrow -- Touch and Trust, a Velvet Glove story. This is from Velvet Glove, Volume 2, the story of Sampson and Alain:
Sampson is too tall to be anything but awkward outside, but in the Velvet Glove he shines, confident in his ability as a top. When he meets Alain, it breaks Sampson's heart. Alain has been without a top, and any kind of touch, for too long. Can Sampson prove himself and win Alain's heart?
I'm scheduled to do a blog post today on the rainbow blog at TRS. I have no clue what I'm going to say... I may just go with a line from the stories I'm currently actively working on...
Today you can also find me guest posting at Ebook Addict's Reviews: Werewolves, or the Grr factor.
Still looking to be more organized in June. I'm not holding my breath. ;)
June 1, 2012
Fiction Friday
Club Fantasy, Chapter 18
Chris told himself a thousand times this was a bad idea.
Each intersection they passed a small voice told him to tell Henry to turn and take him home, drop him there, anything. He didn't. That little voice told him this was a bad idea; Henry was bad news. But his cock stayed hard and his heart was thumping quickly. This was Henry, his Henry, who said he'd changed, who looked fucking amazing.
As they got close to the house he’d left, he reached out and slid his hand over Henry's thigh, resting it there like he used to.
This probably was a bad idea, but Chris just didn't care.
They pulled up to the house and Chris gasped. Henry had been busy -- there were flowerbeds and street lights, his roses were still there, but they were huge now. The house had been repainted, a huge front porch added, new fences.
"Jesus, Henry, did you do all this yourself?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I like remodelling. It fills the time. Come see the inside." He wasn't used to that pride, that joy in Henry's voice. It was hot.
He followed Henry in, mouth dropping open. Everything had been redone, fixed, painted, improved. "This is... wow." The Henry he'd left had spent all his weekends gambling, drunk. His heart began to ache a little; Henry had changed.
The fireplace had been redone with huge slabs of stone, the wooden mantle shining, his picture still there, looking over the family room. "I wanted... I wanted it to be something to be proud of."
"It's wonderful, Henry -- you should be proud of it."
"I am." Henry gave him the tour. There was a guest room, an office, a kitchen fit for a king. Then, suddenly they were in the bedroom.
Deep blues and cool creams were everywhere, the mixture of new and familiar bizarre. There were memories wrapped up in this room, some good, some not so good. Chris looked at the man he'd loved, had never stopped loving, really, and took a step forward.
"We should renovate our memories..."
"I could handle that, baby. Swear to God." Henry's hands landed on his hips, drew him closer. "Can I kiss you?"
"Please, Henry." He leaned in, meeting Henry more than halfway.
The kiss tasted like mints and coffee -- no beer, no whiskey. No cigarette smoke. It was sexy as hell and had him moaning, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue into Henry's mouth, trying to get to the flavor beneath the mints and coffee.
Henry tugged him close, hips moving against him, so carefully, so gently, full cock nudging him. He wrapped his own arms around Henry's waist, hands sliding down to grab that pretty ass. It fit in his palms just like he remembered.
"Hey." They stared at each other, eye to eye, forehead to forehead, Henry looking into him. "You look good."
"You look really good. I mean I know you had a bad day and all, but even so, you look better than last time I saw you." So much better. More like the man he’d first met, the man he knew Henry could be.
"Thanks. I've been trying, huh? Trying to fix things."
"I can see that. I so can." He squeezed Henry's ass, their hips rolling together, making him groan.
"You... you dating anyone? I don't cheat, Chrissie."
"No. Like I said, I kept comparing them to you and nobody else came out on top." Bad as things had been, there'd always been that sliver of pure gold. "I'm free and clear, Henry. Free and clear."
"Thank God. It's only been you for me, Chrissie. I'd do anything for you." Henry's mouth landed on his again, this kiss hungry and sharp-edged, flavored with pure need.
He held on, opening wide for Henry's kiss. God, he hadn't wanted anyone like he wanted Henry. Not ever.
They stumbled a few steps until Henry's back hit the wall and he could climb up, rub and taste. Moaning, he got the good friction going, their cocks dragging together through their pants.
"Mmm. Chrissie." Henry kept smiling, that look like a kid in a candy store.
He took one kiss after another, humping Henry against the wall. They were going to come -- he knew it. He could smell Henry's need, feel the way his balls drew up.
"Baby, pants." He tugged at Henry's, fingers clumsy with his need.
"Uh-huh. Please."
He dragged down the man's zipper, fingers wrapping around Henry's prick like they remembered exactly where they were supposed to be.
"Chrissie!"
He laughed at that sound that he knew, balls deep. "I can smell you." He stroked firmly, feeling the heat in his palm.
"Oh, fuck me." Henry's eyes rolled, heat pouring out over his wrist.
"I can do that, baby." Chris kept stroking, keeping Henry hard and wanting, Henry’s come making it slick and easy.
"Oh..." Henry groaned, knees buckling a little. "Tell me where. I'm there."
"You got condoms?" He didn't. He hadn't been expecting to get laid -- he hadn't been expecting Henry.
"I... God, I hope so." Henry grabbed his jeans, headed over to their -- their -- bed, digging through the headboard.
"You'd better." Look at that ass. He was drooling. He was.
"Bingo." Two rubbers dangled from those strong, square fingers.
"Oh, you rock." He started stripping, not feeling self-conscious at all -- this was his Henry after all. Henry watched, eyes burning, heated, staring at him. "You too, baby." He let his clothes drop and advanced on the bed. He hadn't been this turned on in a long time.
"Tell me... Tell me this isn't a pity thing, huh?"
"Shit, no." He made a gesture toward his prick. "Does this look like pity?"
"No. No, that looks like heaven. Pure fucking heaven." Henry turned, offered him that lean, fine ass.
"So does that." He rubbed Henry's ass, fingers sliding along Henry's crack. Henry pushed back into his touch, that skin so warm. "God, babe. I haven’t. Not since..." Not this, not making love.
"I need you. Please."
"Right here." Henry hadn't come up with lube, so he spread Henry's ass cheeks apart and licked at the hot little hole.
"Chrissie. Chrissie. Love." Henry put his head down, starting to move back against him.
He wet the outside of Henry's hole thoroughly, and then he pointed his tongue and pushed it in. God, he knew that flavor, deep down. That was his Henry. Moaning, he pushed deeper, thrusting his tongue eagerly.
"Fuck me. Chrissie. Chrissie, I've missed you."
Yeah, he knew about missing.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore -- he wanted into that tight heat. Now. He got the rubber on, watching Henry hump the air. Moaning softly, he lined up, fingers wrapping around Henry's hips to tug him back. Sliding into that heat was like coming home.
"Henry." His voice was little more than a whisper, his hands opening and closing on Henry's skin.
"Yeah. Yeah. Right here. Right here, Chrissie."
"Oh, God." He started moving, thrusting into Henry.
That heat was perfect around him, absolutely perfect. He raked one hand down along Henry's back, his hips working, pushing him into Henry over and over.
"Yeah. Yeah, more. Been needing this. You."
"Uh-huh." Yeah, he knew all about need. About needing Henry.
Groaning, he moved faster, letting Henry really have it. It wasn't going to last, but that was okay, because they could do it again, then sleep, go have pancakes and come back and do it over and over.
He grabbed hold of Henry's cock, tugging and thrusting, so close. Henry's ass clenched around him, squeezing as heat sprayed, just from that single touch. Gasping, he thrust in one last time and filled the condom, Henry's body milking him.
"Love." The one word was whispered, sure. A promise.
He leaned over Henry's body, resting his head between the man's shoulder blades.
"Stay a little?"
"Yeah. I'll buy you pancakes later." He slid out and tied off the condom, tossing it; the little garbage can was still next to the dresser.
Henry dragged him closer, held him into that strong body.
A part of him couldn't believe he was really here, wrapped in Henry's arms, his lover clean and sober. He went with the part of him that did believe it and just held on.
Chris told himself a thousand times this was a bad idea.
Each intersection they passed a small voice told him to tell Henry to turn and take him home, drop him there, anything. He didn't. That little voice told him this was a bad idea; Henry was bad news. But his cock stayed hard and his heart was thumping quickly. This was Henry, his Henry, who said he'd changed, who looked fucking amazing.
As they got close to the house he’d left, he reached out and slid his hand over Henry's thigh, resting it there like he used to.
This probably was a bad idea, but Chris just didn't care.
They pulled up to the house and Chris gasped. Henry had been busy -- there were flowerbeds and street lights, his roses were still there, but they were huge now. The house had been repainted, a huge front porch added, new fences.
"Jesus, Henry, did you do all this yourself?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I like remodelling. It fills the time. Come see the inside." He wasn't used to that pride, that joy in Henry's voice. It was hot.
He followed Henry in, mouth dropping open. Everything had been redone, fixed, painted, improved. "This is... wow." The Henry he'd left had spent all his weekends gambling, drunk. His heart began to ache a little; Henry had changed.
The fireplace had been redone with huge slabs of stone, the wooden mantle shining, his picture still there, looking over the family room. "I wanted... I wanted it to be something to be proud of."
"It's wonderful, Henry -- you should be proud of it."
"I am." Henry gave him the tour. There was a guest room, an office, a kitchen fit for a king. Then, suddenly they were in the bedroom.
Deep blues and cool creams were everywhere, the mixture of new and familiar bizarre. There were memories wrapped up in this room, some good, some not so good. Chris looked at the man he'd loved, had never stopped loving, really, and took a step forward.
"We should renovate our memories..."
"I could handle that, baby. Swear to God." Henry's hands landed on his hips, drew him closer. "Can I kiss you?"
"Please, Henry." He leaned in, meeting Henry more than halfway.
The kiss tasted like mints and coffee -- no beer, no whiskey. No cigarette smoke. It was sexy as hell and had him moaning, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue into Henry's mouth, trying to get to the flavor beneath the mints and coffee.
Henry tugged him close, hips moving against him, so carefully, so gently, full cock nudging him. He wrapped his own arms around Henry's waist, hands sliding down to grab that pretty ass. It fit in his palms just like he remembered.
"Hey." They stared at each other, eye to eye, forehead to forehead, Henry looking into him. "You look good."
"You look really good. I mean I know you had a bad day and all, but even so, you look better than last time I saw you." So much better. More like the man he’d first met, the man he knew Henry could be.
"Thanks. I've been trying, huh? Trying to fix things."
"I can see that. I so can." He squeezed Henry's ass, their hips rolling together, making him groan.
"You... you dating anyone? I don't cheat, Chrissie."
"No. Like I said, I kept comparing them to you and nobody else came out on top." Bad as things had been, there'd always been that sliver of pure gold. "I'm free and clear, Henry. Free and clear."
"Thank God. It's only been you for me, Chrissie. I'd do anything for you." Henry's mouth landed on his again, this kiss hungry and sharp-edged, flavored with pure need.
He held on, opening wide for Henry's kiss. God, he hadn't wanted anyone like he wanted Henry. Not ever.
They stumbled a few steps until Henry's back hit the wall and he could climb up, rub and taste. Moaning, he got the good friction going, their cocks dragging together through their pants.
"Mmm. Chrissie." Henry kept smiling, that look like a kid in a candy store.
He took one kiss after another, humping Henry against the wall. They were going to come -- he knew it. He could smell Henry's need, feel the way his balls drew up.
"Baby, pants." He tugged at Henry's, fingers clumsy with his need.
"Uh-huh. Please."
He dragged down the man's zipper, fingers wrapping around Henry's prick like they remembered exactly where they were supposed to be.
"Chrissie!"
He laughed at that sound that he knew, balls deep. "I can smell you." He stroked firmly, feeling the heat in his palm.
"Oh, fuck me." Henry's eyes rolled, heat pouring out over his wrist.
"I can do that, baby." Chris kept stroking, keeping Henry hard and wanting, Henry’s come making it slick and easy.
"Oh..." Henry groaned, knees buckling a little. "Tell me where. I'm there."
"You got condoms?" He didn't. He hadn't been expecting to get laid -- he hadn't been expecting Henry.
"I... God, I hope so." Henry grabbed his jeans, headed over to their -- their -- bed, digging through the headboard.
"You'd better." Look at that ass. He was drooling. He was.
"Bingo." Two rubbers dangled from those strong, square fingers.
"Oh, you rock." He started stripping, not feeling self-conscious at all -- this was his Henry after all. Henry watched, eyes burning, heated, staring at him. "You too, baby." He let his clothes drop and advanced on the bed. He hadn't been this turned on in a long time.
"Tell me... Tell me this isn't a pity thing, huh?"
"Shit, no." He made a gesture toward his prick. "Does this look like pity?"
"No. No, that looks like heaven. Pure fucking heaven." Henry turned, offered him that lean, fine ass.
"So does that." He rubbed Henry's ass, fingers sliding along Henry's crack. Henry pushed back into his touch, that skin so warm. "God, babe. I haven’t. Not since..." Not this, not making love.
"I need you. Please."
"Right here." Henry hadn't come up with lube, so he spread Henry's ass cheeks apart and licked at the hot little hole.
"Chrissie. Chrissie. Love." Henry put his head down, starting to move back against him.
He wet the outside of Henry's hole thoroughly, and then he pointed his tongue and pushed it in. God, he knew that flavor, deep down. That was his Henry. Moaning, he pushed deeper, thrusting his tongue eagerly.
"Fuck me. Chrissie. Chrissie, I've missed you."
Yeah, he knew about missing.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore -- he wanted into that tight heat. Now. He got the rubber on, watching Henry hump the air. Moaning softly, he lined up, fingers wrapping around Henry's hips to tug him back. Sliding into that heat was like coming home.
"Henry." His voice was little more than a whisper, his hands opening and closing on Henry's skin.
"Yeah. Yeah. Right here. Right here, Chrissie."
"Oh, God." He started moving, thrusting into Henry.
That heat was perfect around him, absolutely perfect. He raked one hand down along Henry's back, his hips working, pushing him into Henry over and over.
"Yeah. Yeah, more. Been needing this. You."
"Uh-huh." Yeah, he knew all about need. About needing Henry.
Groaning, he moved faster, letting Henry really have it. It wasn't going to last, but that was okay, because they could do it again, then sleep, go have pancakes and come back and do it over and over.
He grabbed hold of Henry's cock, tugging and thrusting, so close. Henry's ass clenched around him, squeezing as heat sprayed, just from that single touch. Gasping, he thrust in one last time and filled the condom, Henry's body milking him.
"Love." The one word was whispered, sure. A promise.
He leaned over Henry's body, resting his head between the man's shoulder blades.
"Stay a little?"
"Yeah. I'll buy you pancakes later." He slid out and tied off the condom, tossing it; the little garbage can was still next to the dresser.
Henry dragged him closer, held him into that strong body.
A part of him couldn't believe he was really here, wrapped in Henry's arms, his lover clean and sober. He went with the part of him that did believe it and just held on.
two stories out this week
Market Day, a Hammer story
It's Market Day for Jim and Marcus, and Jim is feeling pretty frisky, wanting to play with his master just because he can. When a large latte sends him into an irritable funk, will Marcus be able to rescue the day and turn grumpy back into horny and, later, sated? Marcus and Jim feature prominently in The Hammer Series, in the novel Bent.
There's a sample here.
You can buy it here.
Like it Or Not (anthology)
Be it forced seduction/dubious consent, non-violent intimidation, or pre-negotiated fantasy, there is something wickedly taboo about non-consensual sex, where consent is muddled. While rape is a crime of power, focusing on exerting physical control over another person, non-con is all about the gray area where verbal consent is either never given (not a 'yes', but not a 'no' either) or doesn't match the arousal and passion both parties share during the act. In Like It or Not, we push the boundaries of consent without fully breaking them.
My story in it is Obedience Classes:
Werewolf Trevor is subjected to Obedience Classes when his pack alpha becomes fed up with his rebellion. Dirk, the wolf charged with this task, though, seems more interested in claiming Trevor for himself, by any means necessary.
You can buy it here.
It's Market Day for Jim and Marcus, and Jim is feeling pretty frisky, wanting to play with his master just because he can. When a large latte sends him into an irritable funk, will Marcus be able to rescue the day and turn grumpy back into horny and, later, sated? Marcus and Jim feature prominently in The Hammer Series, in the novel Bent.
There's a sample here.
You can buy it here.
Like it Or Not (anthology)
Be it forced seduction/dubious consent, non-violent intimidation, or pre-negotiated fantasy, there is something wickedly taboo about non-consensual sex, where consent is muddled. While rape is a crime of power, focusing on exerting physical control over another person, non-con is all about the gray area where verbal consent is either never given (not a 'yes', but not a 'no' either) or doesn't match the arousal and passion both parties share during the act. In Like It or Not, we push the boundaries of consent without fully breaking them.
My story in it is Obedience Classes:
Werewolf Trevor is subjected to Obedience Classes when his pack alpha becomes fed up with his rebellion. Dirk, the wolf charged with this task, though, seems more interested in claiming Trevor for himself, by any means necessary.
You can buy it here.
May 31, 2012
Book contest
May 28, 2012
My God it's Monday
I have two short stories out this week, one came out on Sunday, the other is coming on Wednesday.
Bussy, the manager of a gay ski resort, is into only twinks. At least that's what he has always believed, until one evening after he gets dumped by his latest boyfriend, he notices Quint, the hot bartender.
Quint is the complete opposite of a twink. In fact, he's even taller than Bussy and definitely well-built. Could the shy bartender be exactly what Bussy's been looking for all along?
It's at a special new release price, so pick it up while it's cheap!
Market Day, a Hammer story is a Jim and Marcus.
It's Market Day for Jim and Marcus and Jim is feeling pretty frisky, wanting to play with his master just because he can. When a large latte sends him into an irritable funk, will Marcus be able to rescue the day and turn grumpy back into horny and, later, sated?
This one'll be available on Wednesday at Torquere Press.
Like it or Not, the anthology I have a story in (Obedience Classes) comes out on Friday from Storm Moon Press.
It's the last day for the Memorial Day sales at Changeling and Torquere:
Changeling Press: 10% off your order with the code MemorialDay2012
Torquere Press: 15% off your order with the code memday2012
And I'm tired, so that's going to be it for today.
Bussy, the manager of a gay ski resort, is into only twinks. At least that's what he has always believed, until one evening after he gets dumped by his latest boyfriend, he notices Quint, the hot bartender.
Quint is the complete opposite of a twink. In fact, he's even taller than Bussy and definitely well-built. Could the shy bartender be exactly what Bussy's been looking for all along?
It's at a special new release price, so pick it up while it's cheap!
Market Day, a Hammer story is a Jim and Marcus.
It's Market Day for Jim and Marcus and Jim is feeling pretty frisky, wanting to play with his master just because he can. When a large latte sends him into an irritable funk, will Marcus be able to rescue the day and turn grumpy back into horny and, later, sated?
This one'll be available on Wednesday at Torquere Press.
Like it or Not, the anthology I have a story in (Obedience Classes) comes out on Friday from Storm Moon Press.
It's the last day for the Memorial Day sales at Changeling and Torquere:
Changeling Press: 10% off your order with the code MemorialDay2012
Torquere Press: 15% off your order with the code memday2012
And I'm tired, so that's going to be it for today.
May 26, 2012
Publisher sales
Two of my publishers are having Mermorial Day Sales.
Changeling Press: 10% off your order with the code MemorialDay2012
Torquere Press: 15% off your order with the code memday2012
Everyone have a good weekend!
Changeling Press: 10% off your order with the code MemorialDay2012
Torquere Press: 15% off your order with the code memday2012
Everyone have a good weekend!
Fiction Friday on Saturday
Here's Club Fantasy, chapter 17
Henry looked at the casino, chewing his bottom lip. Man, he wanted to go in, wanted to just lose himself in beer and cards and slots and smoke and never come out. Never. But damn it, he'd promised Chris that he'd never go into one of those places again. Never. Promises still counted even after the relationship didn't, right? Right?
He rubbed his cheek, feeling the stubble rasp against his palm. Fuck, he missed his Chrissy.
He sat on the hood of his Mustang, watching the men wander in and out, laughing and joking, some hollow-eyed and empty, all of them colored red and blue by the neon lights. He'd just about managed to convince himself to get up and run, when he saw a tall, familiar man, heading toward the casino door.
Could it be?
No. No, surely not.
But...
"Chrissy? Chrissy, is that you?" He hopped off the car and headed over, not caring if he looked like an idiot.
The tall blond stopped and turned, eyes widening. "Henry?"
"Yeah. Hey. I..." Well, shit. He didn't know what to say. "I was just thinking about you."
"Yeah?" Chris put his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground. "Been a long time."
"Yeah." He nodded. "You look good."
"I've been doing okay for myself." Chris took a long look at him. "You're looking better than the last time I saw you."
"I've been working hard." Not drinking. Not smoking. Not gambling.
"You still doing construction?" The conversation felt stiff, stilted, but at least Chrissy was talking to him, right?
"Yeah. I'm into houses now, not commercial. You still teaching?"
Chris nodded. "Still at Benson High." Those dark eyes started at him, seemed to look right through him.
"Cool. I..." Don't go in there. Come have a coffee with me. Let me prove to you that I can make it right. "It's was nice to see you."
Chris nodded again. "Yeah. Where are you headed?"
"Coffee. I was resisting temptation. My job site's right there." He pointed to one of the McMansions across the highway.
"And are you? Resisting temptation?"
"I haven't had a drink in three years and eight days. I haven't gambled a dime in the same time. I quit smoking twenty two months ago." He'd worked hard, damn it.
"You finally hit bottom, hmm?"
"I guess I did." He nodded once and turned around, heading for the Mustang. They told him that he couldn't expect forgiveness, no matter how hard he'd worked.
"Good for you for climbing your way out, Henry." The words were quiet, but he could hear the sincerity in them.
"Thank you." His heart kind of stopped a little.
"Have you... have you had that coffee yet?"
"No. Would you like to join me?" Please? Please, Chrissy?
"All right."
"I still have the Mustang." He nodded over to his baby. "Or I can follow you."
"I took a cab, so the Mustang's fine." Chris looked like he was torn between hugging and hitting.
"Cool. You... I didn't think you gambled." He unlocked the car door.
"I don't really. They've got dancing and shit in there. A fantasy slot machine a friend of mine won. His fantasy came true, too apparently. I wanted to see what the fuss was about." Chris shrugged and slid into the car.
"Oh. I... I haven't been in. Today was hard. We lost a guy on the site and I found myself watching." God, he had diarrhea of the mouth.
"You lost someone? As in died? God, I'm sorry."
"Yeah. There was an accident. Cement. He was just a kid." He put his hands on the steering wheel, watched them shake.
Chris' hand landed on top of one of his, warm and solid. "Let me buy you that cup of coffee, man."
"I've missed you." His eyes went wide as the words fell out of his mouth like poison.
Chris' eyes closed and he sighed. "I know how you feel."
He didn't know what else to say, so he just drove, heading to Manny's Cup, fingers clenched around the wheel.
"I do know, you know. I think about you every day."
"I hear you. I'd do anything to take back the shit I did." Hell, he had. He'd done everything he could.
"Yeah, well, what's done is done. We can't go back and change the decisions we made. My shrink says we don't have to let them ruin our future, though." Chris held up a hand. "Not one word about me seeing a shrink."
"I won't." Hell, he went to meetings, every week.
"So... you seeing anyone?"
"No. No, I. No." Hell, he loved Chrissy. He didn't want anyone else.
"No? I tried. I honestly did. But I'll be damned if I didn't keep comparing them to you and despite everything, every last one of them came up short."
Henry pulled into the coffee shop, looking over at his Chrissy. "I'm sorry."
"Okay. I forgive you. That's how it goes, isn't it? Redemption and all that shit."
"Yeah. I mean, I tried. I've tried to make things right." For you.
"I'm impressed, Henry. Seriously. I know how big a hold the drink and the cards had on you."
"They did. They still haunt me, but I don't need them." He didn't. He was stronger than them.
"Good for you." He could feel Chrissy's eyes on him as he pulled into a parking spot.
They stopped and he killed the engine, then they both sat there, looking at each other.
Chris shook his head, and then reached out and touched his cheek. "You're looking good."
"You look just like I remember." He moaned, leaned in and nuzzled. "Tell me you're real, man."
Chrissy pinched him on the arm. "See? Real."
"Ow. Okay." He chuckled, staring at Chrissy's fingers on his skin. "Real."
"You want me to kiss it better?" Chris looked like he was surprised by his own words, but the offer wasn't rescinded.
"Fuck, yes." Please.
Chris took his arm, raised it to those pretty lips. They were hot as they pressed against his skin.
Henry whimpered softly. "One more?"
Chris pressed their lips together.
Fuck him. Yes. Yes. He opened, tongue tracing the edge of Chrissy's lips. Chrissy groaned, mouth opening up for him. His hand slipped around the back of Chris' head, tilting the sweet face up for more.
A soft whimper filled his mouth and Chris broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "This is a bad idea." Then their mouths were back together again, Chris' tongue pushing into his mouth.
Terrible. Awful. If Chrissy stopped, Henry thought he might fucking die. Chrissy didn't stop, though, Chrissy kept kissing, making those soft little noises Henry hadn't heard in so long. One of his hands slid down Chrissy's side, counting ribs, petting.
"Oh, fuck." Chris arched into the touch and then pulled back, hands on his chest. "We can't do this. Not here."
"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. I just... You're here."
"So take me somewhere else."
"I still have the house. Come home." Was that too much?
Chris nodded. "Yeah, okay. Drive, Henry. Before one of us changes our mind."
"Drive. Drive. I can do that, babe. I so can." He could, and if that was a sob in his voice, neither he nor Chrissy said a thing. They just drove home.
Henry looked at the casino, chewing his bottom lip. Man, he wanted to go in, wanted to just lose himself in beer and cards and slots and smoke and never come out. Never. But damn it, he'd promised Chris that he'd never go into one of those places again. Never. Promises still counted even after the relationship didn't, right? Right?
He rubbed his cheek, feeling the stubble rasp against his palm. Fuck, he missed his Chrissy.
He sat on the hood of his Mustang, watching the men wander in and out, laughing and joking, some hollow-eyed and empty, all of them colored red and blue by the neon lights. He'd just about managed to convince himself to get up and run, when he saw a tall, familiar man, heading toward the casino door.
Could it be?
No. No, surely not.
But...
"Chrissy? Chrissy, is that you?" He hopped off the car and headed over, not caring if he looked like an idiot.
The tall blond stopped and turned, eyes widening. "Henry?"
"Yeah. Hey. I..." Well, shit. He didn't know what to say. "I was just thinking about you."
"Yeah?" Chris put his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground. "Been a long time."
"Yeah." He nodded. "You look good."
"I've been doing okay for myself." Chris took a long look at him. "You're looking better than the last time I saw you."
"I've been working hard." Not drinking. Not smoking. Not gambling.
"You still doing construction?" The conversation felt stiff, stilted, but at least Chrissy was talking to him, right?
"Yeah. I'm into houses now, not commercial. You still teaching?"
Chris nodded. "Still at Benson High." Those dark eyes started at him, seemed to look right through him.
"Cool. I..." Don't go in there. Come have a coffee with me. Let me prove to you that I can make it right. "It's was nice to see you."
Chris nodded again. "Yeah. Where are you headed?"
"Coffee. I was resisting temptation. My job site's right there." He pointed to one of the McMansions across the highway.
"And are you? Resisting temptation?"
"I haven't had a drink in three years and eight days. I haven't gambled a dime in the same time. I quit smoking twenty two months ago." He'd worked hard, damn it.
"You finally hit bottom, hmm?"
"I guess I did." He nodded once and turned around, heading for the Mustang. They told him that he couldn't expect forgiveness, no matter how hard he'd worked.
"Good for you for climbing your way out, Henry." The words were quiet, but he could hear the sincerity in them.
"Thank you." His heart kind of stopped a little.
"Have you... have you had that coffee yet?"
"No. Would you like to join me?" Please? Please, Chrissy?
"All right."
"I still have the Mustang." He nodded over to his baby. "Or I can follow you."
"I took a cab, so the Mustang's fine." Chris looked like he was torn between hugging and hitting.
"Cool. You... I didn't think you gambled." He unlocked the car door.
"I don't really. They've got dancing and shit in there. A fantasy slot machine a friend of mine won. His fantasy came true, too apparently. I wanted to see what the fuss was about." Chris shrugged and slid into the car.
"Oh. I... I haven't been in. Today was hard. We lost a guy on the site and I found myself watching." God, he had diarrhea of the mouth.
"You lost someone? As in died? God, I'm sorry."
"Yeah. There was an accident. Cement. He was just a kid." He put his hands on the steering wheel, watched them shake.
Chris' hand landed on top of one of his, warm and solid. "Let me buy you that cup of coffee, man."
"I've missed you." His eyes went wide as the words fell out of his mouth like poison.
Chris' eyes closed and he sighed. "I know how you feel."
He didn't know what else to say, so he just drove, heading to Manny's Cup, fingers clenched around the wheel.
"I do know, you know. I think about you every day."
"I hear you. I'd do anything to take back the shit I did." Hell, he had. He'd done everything he could.
"Yeah, well, what's done is done. We can't go back and change the decisions we made. My shrink says we don't have to let them ruin our future, though." Chris held up a hand. "Not one word about me seeing a shrink."
"I won't." Hell, he went to meetings, every week.
"So... you seeing anyone?"
"No. No, I. No." Hell, he loved Chrissy. He didn't want anyone else.
"No? I tried. I honestly did. But I'll be damned if I didn't keep comparing them to you and despite everything, every last one of them came up short."
Henry pulled into the coffee shop, looking over at his Chrissy. "I'm sorry."
"Okay. I forgive you. That's how it goes, isn't it? Redemption and all that shit."
"Yeah. I mean, I tried. I've tried to make things right." For you.
"I'm impressed, Henry. Seriously. I know how big a hold the drink and the cards had on you."
"They did. They still haunt me, but I don't need them." He didn't. He was stronger than them.
"Good for you." He could feel Chrissy's eyes on him as he pulled into a parking spot.
They stopped and he killed the engine, then they both sat there, looking at each other.
Chris shook his head, and then reached out and touched his cheek. "You're looking good."
"You look just like I remember." He moaned, leaned in and nuzzled. "Tell me you're real, man."
Chrissy pinched him on the arm. "See? Real."
"Ow. Okay." He chuckled, staring at Chrissy's fingers on his skin. "Real."
"You want me to kiss it better?" Chris looked like he was surprised by his own words, but the offer wasn't rescinded.
"Fuck, yes." Please.
Chris took his arm, raised it to those pretty lips. They were hot as they pressed against his skin.
Henry whimpered softly. "One more?"
Chris pressed their lips together.
Fuck him. Yes. Yes. He opened, tongue tracing the edge of Chrissy's lips. Chrissy groaned, mouth opening up for him. His hand slipped around the back of Chris' head, tilting the sweet face up for more.
A soft whimper filled his mouth and Chris broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "This is a bad idea." Then their mouths were back together again, Chris' tongue pushing into his mouth.
Terrible. Awful. If Chrissy stopped, Henry thought he might fucking die. Chrissy didn't stop, though, Chrissy kept kissing, making those soft little noises Henry hadn't heard in so long. One of his hands slid down Chrissy's side, counting ribs, petting.
"Oh, fuck." Chris arched into the touch and then pulled back, hands on his chest. "We can't do this. Not here."
"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. I just... You're here."
"So take me somewhere else."
"I still have the house. Come home." Was that too much?
Chris nodded. "Yeah, okay. Drive, Henry. Before one of us changes our mind."
"Drive. Drive. I can do that, babe. I so can." He could, and if that was a sob in his voice, neither he nor Chrissy said a thing. They just drove home.
May 23, 2012
Hump day!
sexy snippet from one of the stories I'm working on in honor of hump day
Devon's hands were on his thighs, thumbs nudging his balls. He groaned, rocking into that touch, his eyes dropping half-closed. Those clever fingers moved up, circled his cock and started moving.
"Devon..." He loved the feeling of Devon's hands on him.
"Yes. Yes, Barney." Those pretty eyes met his. "Sir."
"Yes!" He held Devon's gaze, watching as his boy brought him so much pleasure. "I want you to suck me."
Devon nodded. "You taste good." His boy scooted down, wriggling underneath him, denim-covered ass scratching on the comforter.
He moaned, body going tight in anticipation of having that hot mouth around his cock again. Soft lips wrapped around his flesh, the wicked little tongue lapping at the slit.
"Devon, baby!" He cried out, locking his muscles so he didn't collapse.
For someone who claimed to be unpractised, his baby was one hell of a cocksucker.
Devon's hands were on his thighs, thumbs nudging his balls. He groaned, rocking into that touch, his eyes dropping half-closed. Those clever fingers moved up, circled his cock and started moving.
"Devon..." He loved the feeling of Devon's hands on him.
"Yes. Yes, Barney." Those pretty eyes met his. "Sir."
"Yes!" He held Devon's gaze, watching as his boy brought him so much pleasure. "I want you to suck me."
Devon nodded. "You taste good." His boy scooted down, wriggling underneath him, denim-covered ass scratching on the comforter.
He moaned, body going tight in anticipation of having that hot mouth around his cock again. Soft lips wrapped around his flesh, the wicked little tongue lapping at the slit.
"Devon, baby!" He cried out, locking his muscles so he didn't collapse.
For someone who claimed to be unpractised, his baby was one hell of a cocksucker.
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