Zoe Perdita's Blog, page 5
July 6, 2016
Free book: Crash (Westside Wolf Pack 1) free on Amazon!
I'm in a giving mood this summer, so I'm giving away another free book! This time it's Crash (Westside Wolf Pack 1). It's a few years old, but if you haven't read it yet, now is your chance.
It'll be free on Amazon until July 8th!
Get it here.
Ben Singer, an omega werewolf, has been in love with his former best friend and the alpha scion of their wolf pack, Axel, from the time they were teenagers. Ben thought they were mates, but the rules of their pack kept them apart.
Axel Cross is a fuck-up. The sexy tattooed wolf threw away his chances of ever becoming pack alpha at seventeen, and Ben has no idea why.
When Axel’s uncle kicks Ben out of their Pittsburgh pack, it’s the chance the omega has been waiting for. Then Axel demands to accompany the smaller wolf. The only problem is Ben wants to run away for good – away from the pack Axel’s uncle decided the omega should join and away from Axel.
But Axel doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He’s determined to go with Ben, even if the omega doesn’t want him around.
While desire stirs between Axel and Ben, years of heartache haunt them. Can the alpha and omega let go of their past and the old pack in order to find a bright new future together?
It'll be free on Amazon until July 8th!
Get it here.
Ben Singer, an omega werewolf, has been in love with his former best friend and the alpha scion of their wolf pack, Axel, from the time they were teenagers. Ben thought they were mates, but the rules of their pack kept them apart.
Axel Cross is a fuck-up. The sexy tattooed wolf threw away his chances of ever becoming pack alpha at seventeen, and Ben has no idea why.
When Axel’s uncle kicks Ben out of their Pittsburgh pack, it’s the chance the omega has been waiting for. Then Axel demands to accompany the smaller wolf. The only problem is Ben wants to run away for good – away from the pack Axel’s uncle decided the omega should join and away from Axel.
But Axel doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He’s determined to go with Ben, even if the omega doesn’t want him around.
While desire stirs between Axel and Ben, years of heartache haunt them. Can the alpha and omega let go of their past and the old pack in order to find a bright new future together?
July 1, 2016
Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two) Released!
The book is live! And it's only $2.99 for the first week! Yay!!!
Get it here:
Amazon
All Romance
I also started working on the next Haven City book. It's Ari and Felan's story. So much fun to dip back into that world. I missed it.
Also, as a special treat, the first book, Titan in Chains, is free on Amazon from today until July 4th!
Get it here!
Calder King’s life is crazy. Not only is he trying to be a normal college football player. He also hunts down terrorists with his boyfriend and fellow vigilante (Apprentice/Patrick Black), and gets to have all kinds of kinky sex both in and out of uniform. However, a secret his mom buried years ago disturbs all of that. With Patrick’s help, they can uncover what happened before Calder lost his memories, but does he really want to know the truth?
Not to mention, Calder’s alter ego, Titan, is getting harder to control. And the only thing that can temper Titan’s fury is Patrick.
Patrick Black is the perfect Apprentice.
Ever since Deacon Bishop took Patrick under his wing, he's been unfailingly loyal to Deacon as both his vigilante mentor and his guardian. Then Patrick met Calder King, and his life changed. On the surface, they should be enemies, but Patrick is learning that falling in love doesn't follow the rules of logic. They might not always agree, but in the bedroom Calder gives Patrick just what he needs — an outlet for his darkest desires.
But when Patrick Black discovers clues to the secret of Calder’s missing past, he’s torn between his loyalty to Deacon and his love for Calder. Can he choose between the man who saved his life and the boyfriend who makes it worth living?
Contains graphic violence, gay sex and BDSM.
Get it here:
Amazon
All Romance
I also started working on the next Haven City book. It's Ari and Felan's story. So much fun to dip back into that world. I missed it.
Also, as a special treat, the first book, Titan in Chains, is free on Amazon from today until July 4th!
Get it here!
Calder King’s life is crazy. Not only is he trying to be a normal college football player. He also hunts down terrorists with his boyfriend and fellow vigilante (Apprentice/Patrick Black), and gets to have all kinds of kinky sex both in and out of uniform. However, a secret his mom buried years ago disturbs all of that. With Patrick’s help, they can uncover what happened before Calder lost his memories, but does he really want to know the truth?
Not to mention, Calder’s alter ego, Titan, is getting harder to control. And the only thing that can temper Titan’s fury is Patrick.
Patrick Black is the perfect Apprentice.
Ever since Deacon Bishop took Patrick under his wing, he's been unfailingly loyal to Deacon as both his vigilante mentor and his guardian. Then Patrick met Calder King, and his life changed. On the surface, they should be enemies, but Patrick is learning that falling in love doesn't follow the rules of logic. They might not always agree, but in the bedroom Calder gives Patrick just what he needs — an outlet for his darkest desires.
But when Patrick Black discovers clues to the secret of Calder’s missing past, he’s torn between his loyalty to Deacon and his love for Calder. Can he choose between the man who saved his life and the boyfriend who makes it worth living?
Contains graphic violence, gay sex and BDSM.
June 24, 2016
First Chapter Sneak Peek: Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two)!
It's almost time! The book comes out in a week, July 1st, just in time for the holiday weekend.
I'm really behind on my releases this summer. Moving didn't help. I hope to have the next Haven City book out by September, but we'll see.
I'm totes into Stucky, so I found some hot fan art. Who knew Bucky and Cap were so kinky?
Kinky ass Stucky
Time for the first chapter sneak peek! Enjoy! Join my mailing list to read the second chapter as well!
Chapter One
On a scale between ‘not’ and ‘oh fuck this is unbearable,’ Calder King was leaning toward ‘oh fuck.’
Strongly.
He tucked himself next to the wall, and a few oversized leaves from some subtropical tree surrounded him. A bright orange flower tickled his ear, and he rustled to the side, frowning at the bruised petals. Still, it was better than mingling with the crowd. It was even worse than a room full of cheerleaders after they won a game—cheerleaders who were all intent on bagging the King heir.
Overall, a garden party wasn’t the kind of place any nineteen year old college student wanted to be, especially the star quarterback of the Vale U Lions on a Saturday morning when he’d been up late the night before.
It’s not that he was sore from his late night activities (what did ‘sore’ even feel like? Calder didn’t know), no matter how vigorous they may have been. Or that he really needed that much sleep to function, but it felt good to relax on Saturday morning. Stretch out in bed and pretend he didn’t have the looming threat of midterms creeping up on him. Or that Darkvale City wasn’t about to collapse on his damn head, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it; not on his own. The latter was a more pressing threat than the former, no matter how scary some of his professors could be.
Even worse (which was something), he’d been forced into a monkey suit by Adele (mom) though calling her ‘mom’ never sat well with him. It was probably her eyes. Or that he didn’t remember anything before he was fourteen so those warm fuzzy memories of her raising him were non-existent. Not that he could picture Adele being warm or fuzzy, actually.
She could give orders like a general though, and Calder usually found himself following them because it was easier than arguing with her about it.
Well, almost all orders. He broke one in particular—the ‘don’t get close to Patrick Black because he’s the ward of my business rival and smart and (possibly) dangerously fucked up’ order—but she actually relented about it.
For a time.
Plus, it’s not like Calder gave her a choice in the matter.
Maybe the suit was his punishment for that. The green tie around his neck was too snug, and even if this pale gray suit fit him, unlike his last tux, the way it constrained his arms sucked. Not to mention he looked like a complete tool with his hair (nearly buzzed on the sides with a couple inches of length on top) slicked back like that. Especially because of that dumb cowlick he couldn’t do a damn thing about no matter how much product he used. He’d have preferred his normal everyday look—rolling out of bed and running his fingers through it, but once again, Adele insisted.
She’d insisted on a lot of things recently. Like those damn therapy appointments to help him deal with the terrorist attack last December and his mounting anger issues (which was mostly Titan, his alter-ego’s, fault, but he couldn’t tell a therapist that). And she insisted Calder accepted his award at a fucking garden party instead of a gala. In truth, either were mortifying, but he figured the gala would have fewer old people. And it took place at night, which upped the cool factor.
This wasn’t cool at all.
Plus, he probably could’ve taken a date to that.
Well, he may have been able to talk Adele into letting him take a date here, but the date he had in mind was already coming with someone else. Not romantically, but after all the shit that went down in Darkvale a few months ago (pretty much the whole reason for this party—a bombing that brought the city to its knees and forced Calder to be a hero or let people die), Calder didn’t think it was fair to take Patrick Black (his boyfriend) away from Deacon Bishop (Patrick’s guardian) since Deacon was still on crutches.
It didn’t make this any easier.
A guy with a tray of little egg pastries held one under Calder’s nose, and he took the ones that didn’t have green stuff in them. “Uh, thanks,” he said, eyes scanning the crowd for Patrick.
He’d texted about fifteen minutes before to say they were on their way, but with traffic and Deacon hobbling around, it could take them another ten to actually arrive.
He really didn’t want to wait another ten minutes without someone friendly to talk to. Sure, every few minutes another person he didn’t know would approach Calder’s carefully selected corner, pat his arm and thank him for saving so many people that night. It’s not like Calder was keeping count.
There’d been a bomb and the mansion was collapsing around them—he had to act.
And, truth be told, he had an unfair advantage over everyone else at the Governor’s Ball—namely super strength and invulnerability. Not that anyone outside of a very select few knew that, but still. It crawled under his skin each time, nudging at Titan, the name he wore when he went out at night to protect the city as part of the Victory Squad—VS for short. Of course, no one here knew about that either, except Adele (and Patrick, but he hadn’t arrived yet). If they did, he’d get slapped with a pair of handcuffs instead of an award.
He was so deep in thought he hardly noticed the woman in a pale green dress and glasses who slid next to him and gave him a wide, pink-lipped smile. “You’re Calder King, right? Such a courageous thing you did.”
Calder glanced at the lanyard around her neck with her credentials on it. Some news blog, the Darkvale Post. He tensed. Another one of Adele’s rules had always been no talking to the press. At least at these kind of events they had to wear badges to ID themselves.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna talk to you so you might as well move along.”
She kept smiling, and that roughed up his nerves. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to upset you on your big day. Waiting for the boy toy to show up?”
Boy toy? Patrick? He almost opened his mouth to respond and caught Adele’s glare from across the crowd. She stared daggers at the reporter, and Calder pressed his lips together. He wasn’t sure if he should be more annoyed that she tried something so cheap to rile him up or that it almost worked. Her smile sharpened when he didn’t answer, and she moved away.
Then his phone chimed, and Calder almost dropped it as he yanked it out of his pocket. He shoved the egg things into his mouth to get his other hand free. The shimmering glasses of Champagne on a tray slipped under his nose next, and were damn tempting, but there were too many cops present to try and snatch one.
He could imagine the headline:
Underage Vale U Quarterback Caught Drinking at Award Ceremony.Adele would love that.
Calder snorted and read the text from Patrick.
Here.
He smiled, wiped his mouth, and glanced around.
Maybe he didn’t show up with Patrick on his arm, but he could still appreciate Patrick’s presence once he arrived.
He slid through the crowd, plastering a smile on his face and muttering ‘excuse me’ every few feet, as he headed toward the elevator. Since it was hardly March, and all the gardens in Darkvale were just starting to bloom, this party was taking place in the arboretum on top of Darkvale’s finest hotel, The Grand. There were too many colorful flowers and the light filtering in from the glass dome hurt his eyes, making him squint.
Suddenly, a hand clasped his arm.
He started. Turned. Stared right into the face of a young woman, probably his age, with a sweep of honey blond hair pulled up on her head into a braid crown thing. With all that perfect makeup, she looked like the other upscale Darkvale women he knew. Like they got together and decided how to dress at a big meeting. Heh. Maybe they did.
“We’ve never met, but I’m honored to be here today. Congratulations on your award. Lydia Baratta,” she said and held out her hand. Her nails were the same pale pink as her lipstick.
Baratta? Like Frank Baratta? Big time mob family on the west side of the city.
Calder stared and bit back the urge to ask her to repeat that, just to be sure he heard right. Who the hell invited her?
Then he caught a fleeting glimpse of bright blue eyes behind black wire-framed glasses in the crowd next to a handsome gimp with a smile that was as charming as a shark about to snap someone’s leg off. Calder’s therapist would say he was jealous, which wasn’t really true, right?
“Uh, Calder King. Nice to meet you. I’ve got to—”
“Boyfriend here?” Lydia asked, raising a dark brow.
He couldn’t tell if her tone was mocking or not, but Titan bristled under his skin all the same. He pulled his hand away before he crushed her delicate bones on accident. “Yeah. He is.”
And he’s way better company than a mobster’s whatever, he thought and turned away.
Patrick stood about ten feet off, talking to a group of ladies in pastel dresses like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He pulled off the dark blue suit better than Calder could, especially with that pale yellow tie against the white shirt. It fit him like a second skin, and he looked just as good in it as he did his other suit—the one made of Kevlar, leather and armor. His black hair curled over the collar slightly. In need of a cut, Adele would say, but Calder liked it that length. It gave him something to hold on to.
Patrick’s body moved with the easy grace of a house cat. He could talk to anyone like they were old friends, even the people that Calder couldn’t stand to spend two minutes with before he fell asleep out of sheer boredom because the only thing they thought was interesting was their golf swing or brunch at Hope Harbor. Or, even better, complaining about all those damned super powered vigilantes who were ruining their great (ha!) city.
Darkvale hadn’t been great in a long time, and everyone knew that. It’s why the city needed people like him—people like Titan and Apprentice—to make it great again.
Patrick smiled at one of the ancient women (who was probably talking about dollies or fruit cake or crochet) showing a flash of white teeth and a surge flooded Calder’s groin. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot his boyfriend looked in that suit. Or how well he could pull off being the scion of a multibillion dollar company without looking like he was going to collapse under the impossible weight of the responsibility.
Calder really shouldn’t be thinking about stripping him out of that suit and kissing (and biting) every inch of his lithe, wiry body either. Or how fucking perfect he looked tied up—dangling by his wrists and writhing in pleasure.
Yeah, those were more ‘bored in Bio 102 thoughts’ than ‘garden party for saving people’ thoughts. But it’s not like he could control them when Patrick slinked through the crowd and excused himself without anyone getting upset with him. They all just smiled and let him go, murmuring about what a polite young man he was. How Deacon Bishop had done such a fine job with him, considering.
Calder clenched his jaw.
Fine job his ass.
Sure, Calder could turn on the good old King charm to get what he wanted, but that had more to do with his smile and his size than anything else. Patrick had his act down so well it was hard to see beneath the veneer—find the real person under all the other layers and masks.
Calder knew him now.
He thought anyway.
“You have egg on your lip,” Patrick said when he arrived. A wicked grin danced across his mouth, and he pulled a napkin out of some pocket on his person.
Calder was too focused on the quirk of Patrick’s brows and the glint in his eyes—so much like the glint the night before—to worry about it much. “Oh. Yeah, the bacon egg things are pretty good, if you’re hungry.”
“Famished. And they’re called quiche,” Patrick said in that slight Hope Harbor accent he took on whenever they had to attend these kinds of things. Patrick never talked or acted like this at college or when they were alone together, so Calder figured it was part of his façade.
It was a weird detail to work on, but Patrick was nothing if not thorough.
“You’re acting like Deacon,” Calder grumbled and let Patrick wipe his mouth before he leaned up and gave him a chaste kiss. The kind of kiss that’s more palatable to old ladies at eleven a.m., he guessed, because he’d have licked his way inside Patrick’s mouth if they were alone.
Or, at the very least, semi-alone, and not cared two ways about it.
Patrick’s grin stiffened, and his entire body followed suit. “Not really. If I was acting like Deacon, I’d have made a bigger scene. I don’t want to cause a scandal on the day you’re getting your big award. Especially since . . . .” His voice faded and his expression turned completely blank.
Calder waved a hand in front of Patrick’s face. “Are you that hungry or is it—”
Patrick’s hand encircled Calder’s wrist and squeezed, using all the strength that most people wouldn’t guess he possessed. “What’s Lydia Baratta doing here?” he hissed in a whisper so low no one but Calder could’ve heard.
Calder shrugged. Of course Patrick Black knew who she was. Probably had her social on file too. And pictures of her as a baby. He’d mentioned that X kept files of all their enemies once, off hand, but Calder hadn’t gotten much more than that out of him. “How the hell should I know? She just introduced herself to me. I don’t even know how they’re related. You think Frank is here too? Isn’t he wanted?”
Patrick snorted in a very Patrick-like manner. “She’s his daughter. He’s under investigation, but that’s just a way of saying nothing sticks and the DCPD is more concerned with someone else at the moment.”
Calder frowned. Snatched a couple of glasses of orange juice off the tray that slipped by and handed one to Patrick. He looked like he needed it. And food. And a good twenty hours of sleep.
Patrick sipped it and scrunched his nose. “This has something in it.”
“Champagne. Damn. I was trying not to break any laws this morning,” Calder grumbled and finished it with one gulp, a smile teasing the side of his mouth. Not like they could do anything about Lydia Baratta at the moment. Might as well act normal.
Patrick handed him the glass and pointed at the buffet table. “Should’ve let me in on it. I’d help you break the fun ones. Want to help me help myself?”
“What’re the fun ones? Grand larceny?” Calder asked and finished the second glass. His head felt light for all of five-seconds before the slight buzz wore off. Invulnerability and the annoying inability to get drunk.
Yay for his powers.
Calder hid the evidence in a fern.
“Public indecency,” Patrick whispered and nudged his shoulder.
“Haven’t we done that before?”
Patrick laughed, but it was tight in his throat and a little too cheerful. His real laugh was a lot more subdued, like an enhanced chuckle. He dished up a plate with a lot of the things Calder generally avoided, like vegetables (which sounded even worse for breakfast or brunch or whatever meal this was supposed to be) and fruit and things with ‘bran’ in the name.
Calder got himself a plate of waffles with whipped cream and strawberries and a load of bacon on the side. He added a pile of eggs for good measure, and a few of those bacon quiche.
“My kind of meal,” a smooth voice said behind him, and Calder felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He didn’t have to turn around to see who it was, and he tried to think about how Deacon looked the night of the Governor’s Ball before the bombs went off. It was easier to hate that guy than it was to hate the one who stood behind him now, leaning into his crutch.
The bruises had healed, but he still looked thinner than he’d been. Not weak—this was the guy who beat Titan in a fight (not forgetting that any time soon)—but not nearly as invincible as he’s seemed before.
Calder swallowed and nodded, feeling more like a guy picking up his date for the prom than a cocky football player at his own award ceremony. In his defense, he’d never had to say much to Deacon, and now he couldn’t escape.
“Yeah? I thought you taught Patrick everything he knows,” Calder said and tried to keep the smile on his face. Shit. He didn’t intend the double meaning, it just popped out, and for a terrible second, his heart stood still.
If he just gave Titan away to Deacon fucking Bishop, of all people . . . .
Deacon’s gray eyes narrowed so slightly it was barely perceptible. If Calder hadn’t been living with Patrick for six months, he might not have noticed. Now he knew where Patrick learned it. Then the crow’s feet around Deacon’s eyes eased, and he smiled. “Not that. It’s a peculiarity he picked up on his own. I guess you’re good for him in more ways than one. Lighten him up a bit, Mr. King.”
More ways than one? Was he talking about sex or something else? Calder wasn’t about to ask, and he felt his ears go hot. It was almost as bad as talking about that stuff with Adele. Beyond awkward.
“I try,” Calder said and grinned. It pulled at his cheeks and he felt, well, stupid. Really fucking stupid. But at least Titan didn’t pop up and sock the guy in the face, which had been a distant worry. That’s the only way it could get much worse.
“Harassing my son, Bishop?”
Calder was wrong. This is the only way it could get worse.
His shoulders went rigid at the sharp cut of Adele’s voice, and he took a deep breath to keep from breaking the plate in his hands. “Just talking,” he said and turned to her. “Nothing big.”
Unlike most of the other women at the party, she wasn’t wearing pastels. She wore a white dress with a suit jacket, and it brought out the bronze in her skin and the mahogany in her hair. Their eyes were the same shape and they had the same strong nose, though Calder’s had a crook in it from the time he broke it during a football game back in Metro, and it healed wrong. She wore her hair down, for once, and it fell in thick waves over her shoulders. She looked younger like that, though he knew she was older than Deacon’s thirty-five by about ten years.
“It’s more like you to harass my ward for seducing your son, isn’t it?” Deacon countered, and his eyes sparked.
Adele’s mouth didn’t harden into a line, like Calder thought it would. Instead, it spread into a thin smile that was a million times worse. “It’s a shame he doesn’t take after his mother more.”
Calder had no idea what that meant, and he looked around for Patrick, who’d already found a spot and waved at him from a table—the damn table of honor. Calder considered hiding in the corner again, but trudged toward his boyfriend instead.
“You should’ve retreated when you had the chance. I did,” Patrick said around a piece of grapefruit.
“Yeah, and you left me to deal with them. But Deacon did say you need more bacon in your diet. And whipped cream.”
“I’m sure he didn’t say—”
Calder held a strawberry to Patrick’s lips, cutting him off. The whipped cream smeared across them just enough to look obscene. “He kind of did, and now you have to lick that off, or I’ll do it for you.”
Patrick’s eyes lit up with the challenge, and he swept his tongue over his lips slowly. He’d done that before with something that wasn’t whipped cream. Calder’s pants tightened in the groin, and he swallowed as Patrick bit into the strawberry and smirked.
“You asked for it. Do you really want me to get you riled up before you get the award for your bravery?”
“Maybe they’ll give me an award for that too,” Calder said and shot him a wide grin. “You should be getting one too, by the way.”
They’d had this discussion before, after the commissioner told Adele what he wanted to do. Patrick had saved plenty of people that night. He’d been bruised and bleeding, his lungs were rough with smoke inhalation, and he still managed to lift up a table and save Adele and several other people, all without superpowers.
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t need an award for bravery.”
“Why? Did you win the science fair instead?”
“I did at Darkvale Tech. I would if I entered the one at Vale U as well, but I won’t. I have an unfair advantage,” Patrick said, without a hint of smugness.
“Being a genius isn’t an unfair advantage,” Calder said as he inhaled his eggs.
Patrick nibbled on his muffin. “Neither is being you. But I meant money wise. At Darkvale Tech, I was too young to dip into my trust fund. Now, all bets are off.”
What he meant was neither is being Titan. Calder knew him well enough to understand that.
Patrick also didn’t mention that he created enough stuff to make Tesla jealous, and he didn’t get to tell most people about it. Usually he just ended up using it himself or patenting it under one of BishopCorp’s many tech companies.
But Calder knew the truth. He’d seen Patrick up late at night working on stuff that made his head dizzy if he bothered asking. The answers he got were usually too technical or too simple—no in between.
There was only one thing he hadn’t gotten to yet, and that made Calder’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. That file Patrick (actually, Apprentice) had stolen from a secret King Inc. server. He said it was still decrypting or whatever, and Calder had no choice but to believe him and wait to see what it said.
Since it had been hidden by Adele, who knew what it could be. Hopefully not bad enough to give X and Apprentice a reason to go after her. Calder had to grudgingly admit they’d done some good for Darkvale by getting the corruption in the eyes of the populace although he didn’t always agree with their more extreme methods.
He thought about slipping his hand under the table to touch Patrick’s knee, but Adele and Deacon took their seats at the same table, followed by some other important looking people that Calder didn’t recognize.
He did recognize the commissioner, an older man with salt and pepper hair but an imposing build all the same. Not as imposing as Calder at six foot three, but close enough.
Calder’s hand curled into a fist, and Patrick’s fingers were there to pry it open. Squeeze it gently and toss him a small, secret smile that was actually his and not something put on for anyone else in the room. Well, anyone but Calder.
He focused on eating and the way Patrick’s finger stroked his pulse point as the conversation at the table drifted from how Deacon was recovering (and condolences), to if the DCPD had made any progress on the vigilante problem.
Patrick’s fingers tightened at that, and Calder squeezed back, slowly bringing the hand up and kissing it.
Patrick’s eyes widened, and Calder let himself be pleased for a moment. Surprising Patrick wasn’t easy.
A few people eyed them, but it wasn’t like they were walking down the street like that. Or around campus. That always riled Titan’s anger into a near frenzy. This just gave it a slight and uncomfortable nudge.
Thankfully, the only questions Calder was asked were about school and football. That’s all they thought he was good for, after all, and it leaned heavily on the latter. If they asked him about Darkvale’s vigilantes, he wasn’t sure he could give an opinion that wasn’t going to piss people off, Adele included.
He was almost relieved when a woman approached the podium and motioned for the commissioner to join her.
Calder knew a lot of the people he’d saved were there, as were a handful of others getting an award for the same thing, but he wouldn’t have recognized them if he met them. His memories of that night were all elation turned to terror. Fire and ash and the sound of the building about to give out around them as he rushed to help everyone he could.
He hadn’t known about the second bomb at that time, and he didn’t give a thought to the protesters who’d been outside. It’s not like he beat himself up about it (he wasn’t Patrick), but it didn’t escape his notice that the people invited here were the same type of people who’d been invited to the Governor’s Ball, not the ones on the street who wanted their city to be free of corruption and crime. He really fought for them, didn’t he? Not the system so steeped in corruption it couldn’t even see it or didn’t want to.
“We’re here today to honor a brave young man who, despite the circumstances, did his best to save as many people as he could during the terrorist attack on December 8th. Calder King is not only a skilled quarterback and scholar—”
Patrick snorted at the scholar bit under his breath.
Adele threw him an admonishing glare, and Patrick had the decency to look ashamed. Calder just smiled at him. He knew he wasn’t dumb, but he wasn’t Patrick either.
“—he also risked his life for strangers. Twenty-three people got out of the Governor’s Mansion the night of the bombing because Calder King carried them out. Many of those who survived are here, perhaps looking at the young man who rescued you for the first time. Unlike those who wear masks to hide their evil intentions, Calder King is one of the true heroes of Darkvale City alongside the paramedics, fire department and the brave members of the DCPD.”
Then the commissioner pointed at Calder, who stood up and held his shoulders back as he trotted toward the stage. If he pretended he was on the field, bristling with confidence, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t see his underlying annoyance.
Giving him an award after everything the VS had done. Everything X and Apprentice had done. Evil intentions—this asshole had no clue what he was talking about.
The woman next to the commissioner handed Calder a plaque, gold plate on dark wood, and he barely glanced at it before he turned to the audience.
Patrick beamed at him, but he threw curious glances to the commissioner every few seconds as well. Adele smiled broadly and clapped.
Deacon smiled his shark smile, and Calder wasn’t sure where he was looking. So much for saving his stupid life.
Calder rubbed the back of his neck. Adele gave him rules for this too: be humble and brief. Don’t mention vigilantes at all. Well, he had an idea to manage that.
“Uh, thanks for this. It’s pretty cool to be honored. A—my mom told me to say that. It means more to me than my football trophies, but I think you have it wrong. It wasn’t just me and the good men and women of fire and rescue who helped people that night. Patrick Black was with me when the roof collapsed around us, and he got a lot of people out too. He even found my mom under a table and helped her out before he got treated for his own wounds. And, considering he’s not a quarterback in size or strength, that’s saying something.”
A few camera flashes went off, and Calder hoped he looked pleased and humble without being smug. The crowd clapped slowly, unsure, and Calder gave a quick nod of his head and climbed down. He gripped the dumb plaque so tightly he was sure it’d snap in half.
A few people murmured their surprise, and the commissioner started another speech to give someone else an award for their duty to the city in the time of crisis.
“Eloquent words, Mr. Quarterback,” Patrick teased as Calder eased into the seat next to him.
“I thought so too,” Calder said and fought to smile though he felt Adele’s gaze on him, boring holes in his skull.
Yeah, she probably wasn’t happy about that, though he’d been both humble and brief without saying how stupid he thought the whole anti-vigilante movement was. Ha! The reason the VS wasn’t there to clean up the bombing was because Titan was there doing it in his tuxedo.
Deacon gave him a brief nod, that could’ve been approving or conniving—Calder wasn’t sure. Then he turned and mentioned an upcoming merger to Adele, and she kept pursing her lips like she bit into a lemon.
Calder was considering how much longer they had to stay when Lydia Baratta approached and tried to talk to the commissioner, who stiffened and briskly told her he had other business.
Patrick and Deacon shared a look at that, like they were reading each other’s minds, and Calder’s gut seized up.
Frank Baratta wasn’t just a typical mob boss. His empire had been growing before the bombing, and even when his dirty cops were exposed, it didn’t slow down. It seemed like it sped up, probably due to X being out of commission and the VS learning how to work without the DCPD giving orders. A few new vigilantes (the kids at school started calling them ‘masks’) were on the streets. Prophet and Dire, Calder’s fellow VS members had even run into one a few months before, but Titan had never had that distinct pleasure.
“Will you be visiting Metro with Calder for the big game? The last of the season, I think,” Adele asked as Deacon stood up. The question was aimed at Patrick, who managed to smile without faltering.
“I’d love to, but—”
“We have a thing with the press that Sunday,” Deacon put in, fixing his purple tie.
Adele nodded. “I see. You have been keeping a low profile lately.”
“Recuperating and mourning. They can’t be rushed, but I think I’m ready to jump back into the thick of it,” Deacon said, teeth glinting, though he managed to look strained around the eyes and just sorry enough that it was believable. From what Patrick said, Deacon had been torn up about the whole thing.
Calder wondered what a torn up Deacon Bishop looked like.
“I’m sorry I won’t be able to make the game, Cal,” Patrick said and squeezed his shoulder.
“No biggie,” Calder said, since he’d already figured. Patrick didn’t care about his games (or that he was the star player of the Vale U Lions), and Calder didn’t care about Patrick watching, but Titan bristled all the same. There were reasons he’d liked to have Patrick around, but they were too selfish to voice.
His hold on Titan was getting looser, more tenuous, by the day, and admitting that was like willfully cutting off his own damn hand. Not to mention Adele might force him back into a cage, a metaphorical one at least, by kicking him off the VS if he said he was having anger issues again. The therapy just annoyed him, and he couldn’t do anything to temper that rage.
But Patrick could.
“I’ll walk you home,” Patrick said, ignoring Adele and Deacon, and giving Calder a bright smile that was too cheerful to be completely honest.
“Yeah? Great. I gotta take a trip to the bathroom first.”
Patrick hummed, which meant he understood, but also that he had a plan.
Patrick’s plans were either trouble or a whole lot of fun.
Usually both.
“I’ll join you. See you later, Deacon. It’s always a pleasure, Ms. King,” Patrick managed without sounding insincere in the least.
Calder didn’t bother to look at them, just turned and walked toward the exit with Patrick’s steady footsteps behind him.
This was his day, after all.
What could go wrong?
I'm really behind on my releases this summer. Moving didn't help. I hope to have the next Haven City book out by September, but we'll see.
I'm totes into Stucky, so I found some hot fan art. Who knew Bucky and Cap were so kinky?
Kinky ass StuckyTime for the first chapter sneak peek! Enjoy! Join my mailing list to read the second chapter as well!
Chapter One
On a scale between ‘not’ and ‘oh fuck this is unbearable,’ Calder King was leaning toward ‘oh fuck.’
Strongly.
He tucked himself next to the wall, and a few oversized leaves from some subtropical tree surrounded him. A bright orange flower tickled his ear, and he rustled to the side, frowning at the bruised petals. Still, it was better than mingling with the crowd. It was even worse than a room full of cheerleaders after they won a game—cheerleaders who were all intent on bagging the King heir.
Overall, a garden party wasn’t the kind of place any nineteen year old college student wanted to be, especially the star quarterback of the Vale U Lions on a Saturday morning when he’d been up late the night before.
It’s not that he was sore from his late night activities (what did ‘sore’ even feel like? Calder didn’t know), no matter how vigorous they may have been. Or that he really needed that much sleep to function, but it felt good to relax on Saturday morning. Stretch out in bed and pretend he didn’t have the looming threat of midterms creeping up on him. Or that Darkvale City wasn’t about to collapse on his damn head, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it; not on his own. The latter was a more pressing threat than the former, no matter how scary some of his professors could be.
Even worse (which was something), he’d been forced into a monkey suit by Adele (mom) though calling her ‘mom’ never sat well with him. It was probably her eyes. Or that he didn’t remember anything before he was fourteen so those warm fuzzy memories of her raising him were non-existent. Not that he could picture Adele being warm or fuzzy, actually.
She could give orders like a general though, and Calder usually found himself following them because it was easier than arguing with her about it.
Well, almost all orders. He broke one in particular—the ‘don’t get close to Patrick Black because he’s the ward of my business rival and smart and (possibly) dangerously fucked up’ order—but she actually relented about it.
For a time.
Plus, it’s not like Calder gave her a choice in the matter.
Maybe the suit was his punishment for that. The green tie around his neck was too snug, and even if this pale gray suit fit him, unlike his last tux, the way it constrained his arms sucked. Not to mention he looked like a complete tool with his hair (nearly buzzed on the sides with a couple inches of length on top) slicked back like that. Especially because of that dumb cowlick he couldn’t do a damn thing about no matter how much product he used. He’d have preferred his normal everyday look—rolling out of bed and running his fingers through it, but once again, Adele insisted.
She’d insisted on a lot of things recently. Like those damn therapy appointments to help him deal with the terrorist attack last December and his mounting anger issues (which was mostly Titan, his alter-ego’s, fault, but he couldn’t tell a therapist that). And she insisted Calder accepted his award at a fucking garden party instead of a gala. In truth, either were mortifying, but he figured the gala would have fewer old people. And it took place at night, which upped the cool factor.
This wasn’t cool at all.
Plus, he probably could’ve taken a date to that.
Well, he may have been able to talk Adele into letting him take a date here, but the date he had in mind was already coming with someone else. Not romantically, but after all the shit that went down in Darkvale a few months ago (pretty much the whole reason for this party—a bombing that brought the city to its knees and forced Calder to be a hero or let people die), Calder didn’t think it was fair to take Patrick Black (his boyfriend) away from Deacon Bishop (Patrick’s guardian) since Deacon was still on crutches.
It didn’t make this any easier.
A guy with a tray of little egg pastries held one under Calder’s nose, and he took the ones that didn’t have green stuff in them. “Uh, thanks,” he said, eyes scanning the crowd for Patrick.
He’d texted about fifteen minutes before to say they were on their way, but with traffic and Deacon hobbling around, it could take them another ten to actually arrive.
He really didn’t want to wait another ten minutes without someone friendly to talk to. Sure, every few minutes another person he didn’t know would approach Calder’s carefully selected corner, pat his arm and thank him for saving so many people that night. It’s not like Calder was keeping count.
There’d been a bomb and the mansion was collapsing around them—he had to act.
And, truth be told, he had an unfair advantage over everyone else at the Governor’s Ball—namely super strength and invulnerability. Not that anyone outside of a very select few knew that, but still. It crawled under his skin each time, nudging at Titan, the name he wore when he went out at night to protect the city as part of the Victory Squad—VS for short. Of course, no one here knew about that either, except Adele (and Patrick, but he hadn’t arrived yet). If they did, he’d get slapped with a pair of handcuffs instead of an award.
He was so deep in thought he hardly noticed the woman in a pale green dress and glasses who slid next to him and gave him a wide, pink-lipped smile. “You’re Calder King, right? Such a courageous thing you did.”
Calder glanced at the lanyard around her neck with her credentials on it. Some news blog, the Darkvale Post. He tensed. Another one of Adele’s rules had always been no talking to the press. At least at these kind of events they had to wear badges to ID themselves.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna talk to you so you might as well move along.”
She kept smiling, and that roughed up his nerves. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to upset you on your big day. Waiting for the boy toy to show up?”
Boy toy? Patrick? He almost opened his mouth to respond and caught Adele’s glare from across the crowd. She stared daggers at the reporter, and Calder pressed his lips together. He wasn’t sure if he should be more annoyed that she tried something so cheap to rile him up or that it almost worked. Her smile sharpened when he didn’t answer, and she moved away.
Then his phone chimed, and Calder almost dropped it as he yanked it out of his pocket. He shoved the egg things into his mouth to get his other hand free. The shimmering glasses of Champagne on a tray slipped under his nose next, and were damn tempting, but there were too many cops present to try and snatch one.
He could imagine the headline:
Underage Vale U Quarterback Caught Drinking at Award Ceremony.Adele would love that.
Calder snorted and read the text from Patrick.
Here.
He smiled, wiped his mouth, and glanced around.
Maybe he didn’t show up with Patrick on his arm, but he could still appreciate Patrick’s presence once he arrived.
He slid through the crowd, plastering a smile on his face and muttering ‘excuse me’ every few feet, as he headed toward the elevator. Since it was hardly March, and all the gardens in Darkvale were just starting to bloom, this party was taking place in the arboretum on top of Darkvale’s finest hotel, The Grand. There were too many colorful flowers and the light filtering in from the glass dome hurt his eyes, making him squint.
Suddenly, a hand clasped his arm.
He started. Turned. Stared right into the face of a young woman, probably his age, with a sweep of honey blond hair pulled up on her head into a braid crown thing. With all that perfect makeup, she looked like the other upscale Darkvale women he knew. Like they got together and decided how to dress at a big meeting. Heh. Maybe they did.
“We’ve never met, but I’m honored to be here today. Congratulations on your award. Lydia Baratta,” she said and held out her hand. Her nails were the same pale pink as her lipstick.
Baratta? Like Frank Baratta? Big time mob family on the west side of the city.
Calder stared and bit back the urge to ask her to repeat that, just to be sure he heard right. Who the hell invited her?
Then he caught a fleeting glimpse of bright blue eyes behind black wire-framed glasses in the crowd next to a handsome gimp with a smile that was as charming as a shark about to snap someone’s leg off. Calder’s therapist would say he was jealous, which wasn’t really true, right?
“Uh, Calder King. Nice to meet you. I’ve got to—”
“Boyfriend here?” Lydia asked, raising a dark brow.
He couldn’t tell if her tone was mocking or not, but Titan bristled under his skin all the same. He pulled his hand away before he crushed her delicate bones on accident. “Yeah. He is.”
And he’s way better company than a mobster’s whatever, he thought and turned away.
Patrick stood about ten feet off, talking to a group of ladies in pastel dresses like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He pulled off the dark blue suit better than Calder could, especially with that pale yellow tie against the white shirt. It fit him like a second skin, and he looked just as good in it as he did his other suit—the one made of Kevlar, leather and armor. His black hair curled over the collar slightly. In need of a cut, Adele would say, but Calder liked it that length. It gave him something to hold on to.
Patrick’s body moved with the easy grace of a house cat. He could talk to anyone like they were old friends, even the people that Calder couldn’t stand to spend two minutes with before he fell asleep out of sheer boredom because the only thing they thought was interesting was their golf swing or brunch at Hope Harbor. Or, even better, complaining about all those damned super powered vigilantes who were ruining their great (ha!) city.
Darkvale hadn’t been great in a long time, and everyone knew that. It’s why the city needed people like him—people like Titan and Apprentice—to make it great again.
Patrick smiled at one of the ancient women (who was probably talking about dollies or fruit cake or crochet) showing a flash of white teeth and a surge flooded Calder’s groin. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot his boyfriend looked in that suit. Or how well he could pull off being the scion of a multibillion dollar company without looking like he was going to collapse under the impossible weight of the responsibility.
Calder really shouldn’t be thinking about stripping him out of that suit and kissing (and biting) every inch of his lithe, wiry body either. Or how fucking perfect he looked tied up—dangling by his wrists and writhing in pleasure.
Yeah, those were more ‘bored in Bio 102 thoughts’ than ‘garden party for saving people’ thoughts. But it’s not like he could control them when Patrick slinked through the crowd and excused himself without anyone getting upset with him. They all just smiled and let him go, murmuring about what a polite young man he was. How Deacon Bishop had done such a fine job with him, considering.
Calder clenched his jaw.
Fine job his ass.
Sure, Calder could turn on the good old King charm to get what he wanted, but that had more to do with his smile and his size than anything else. Patrick had his act down so well it was hard to see beneath the veneer—find the real person under all the other layers and masks.
Calder knew him now.
He thought anyway.
“You have egg on your lip,” Patrick said when he arrived. A wicked grin danced across his mouth, and he pulled a napkin out of some pocket on his person.
Calder was too focused on the quirk of Patrick’s brows and the glint in his eyes—so much like the glint the night before—to worry about it much. “Oh. Yeah, the bacon egg things are pretty good, if you’re hungry.”
“Famished. And they’re called quiche,” Patrick said in that slight Hope Harbor accent he took on whenever they had to attend these kinds of things. Patrick never talked or acted like this at college or when they were alone together, so Calder figured it was part of his façade.
It was a weird detail to work on, but Patrick was nothing if not thorough.
“You’re acting like Deacon,” Calder grumbled and let Patrick wipe his mouth before he leaned up and gave him a chaste kiss. The kind of kiss that’s more palatable to old ladies at eleven a.m., he guessed, because he’d have licked his way inside Patrick’s mouth if they were alone.
Or, at the very least, semi-alone, and not cared two ways about it.
Patrick’s grin stiffened, and his entire body followed suit. “Not really. If I was acting like Deacon, I’d have made a bigger scene. I don’t want to cause a scandal on the day you’re getting your big award. Especially since . . . .” His voice faded and his expression turned completely blank.
Calder waved a hand in front of Patrick’s face. “Are you that hungry or is it—”
Patrick’s hand encircled Calder’s wrist and squeezed, using all the strength that most people wouldn’t guess he possessed. “What’s Lydia Baratta doing here?” he hissed in a whisper so low no one but Calder could’ve heard.
Calder shrugged. Of course Patrick Black knew who she was. Probably had her social on file too. And pictures of her as a baby. He’d mentioned that X kept files of all their enemies once, off hand, but Calder hadn’t gotten much more than that out of him. “How the hell should I know? She just introduced herself to me. I don’t even know how they’re related. You think Frank is here too? Isn’t he wanted?”
Patrick snorted in a very Patrick-like manner. “She’s his daughter. He’s under investigation, but that’s just a way of saying nothing sticks and the DCPD is more concerned with someone else at the moment.”
Calder frowned. Snatched a couple of glasses of orange juice off the tray that slipped by and handed one to Patrick. He looked like he needed it. And food. And a good twenty hours of sleep.
Patrick sipped it and scrunched his nose. “This has something in it.”
“Champagne. Damn. I was trying not to break any laws this morning,” Calder grumbled and finished it with one gulp, a smile teasing the side of his mouth. Not like they could do anything about Lydia Baratta at the moment. Might as well act normal.
Patrick handed him the glass and pointed at the buffet table. “Should’ve let me in on it. I’d help you break the fun ones. Want to help me help myself?”
“What’re the fun ones? Grand larceny?” Calder asked and finished the second glass. His head felt light for all of five-seconds before the slight buzz wore off. Invulnerability and the annoying inability to get drunk.
Yay for his powers.
Calder hid the evidence in a fern.
“Public indecency,” Patrick whispered and nudged his shoulder.
“Haven’t we done that before?”
Patrick laughed, but it was tight in his throat and a little too cheerful. His real laugh was a lot more subdued, like an enhanced chuckle. He dished up a plate with a lot of the things Calder generally avoided, like vegetables (which sounded even worse for breakfast or brunch or whatever meal this was supposed to be) and fruit and things with ‘bran’ in the name.
Calder got himself a plate of waffles with whipped cream and strawberries and a load of bacon on the side. He added a pile of eggs for good measure, and a few of those bacon quiche.
“My kind of meal,” a smooth voice said behind him, and Calder felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He didn’t have to turn around to see who it was, and he tried to think about how Deacon looked the night of the Governor’s Ball before the bombs went off. It was easier to hate that guy than it was to hate the one who stood behind him now, leaning into his crutch.
The bruises had healed, but he still looked thinner than he’d been. Not weak—this was the guy who beat Titan in a fight (not forgetting that any time soon)—but not nearly as invincible as he’s seemed before.
Calder swallowed and nodded, feeling more like a guy picking up his date for the prom than a cocky football player at his own award ceremony. In his defense, he’d never had to say much to Deacon, and now he couldn’t escape.
“Yeah? I thought you taught Patrick everything he knows,” Calder said and tried to keep the smile on his face. Shit. He didn’t intend the double meaning, it just popped out, and for a terrible second, his heart stood still.
If he just gave Titan away to Deacon fucking Bishop, of all people . . . .
Deacon’s gray eyes narrowed so slightly it was barely perceptible. If Calder hadn’t been living with Patrick for six months, he might not have noticed. Now he knew where Patrick learned it. Then the crow’s feet around Deacon’s eyes eased, and he smiled. “Not that. It’s a peculiarity he picked up on his own. I guess you’re good for him in more ways than one. Lighten him up a bit, Mr. King.”
More ways than one? Was he talking about sex or something else? Calder wasn’t about to ask, and he felt his ears go hot. It was almost as bad as talking about that stuff with Adele. Beyond awkward.
“I try,” Calder said and grinned. It pulled at his cheeks and he felt, well, stupid. Really fucking stupid. But at least Titan didn’t pop up and sock the guy in the face, which had been a distant worry. That’s the only way it could get much worse.
“Harassing my son, Bishop?”
Calder was wrong. This is the only way it could get worse.
His shoulders went rigid at the sharp cut of Adele’s voice, and he took a deep breath to keep from breaking the plate in his hands. “Just talking,” he said and turned to her. “Nothing big.”
Unlike most of the other women at the party, she wasn’t wearing pastels. She wore a white dress with a suit jacket, and it brought out the bronze in her skin and the mahogany in her hair. Their eyes were the same shape and they had the same strong nose, though Calder’s had a crook in it from the time he broke it during a football game back in Metro, and it healed wrong. She wore her hair down, for once, and it fell in thick waves over her shoulders. She looked younger like that, though he knew she was older than Deacon’s thirty-five by about ten years.
“It’s more like you to harass my ward for seducing your son, isn’t it?” Deacon countered, and his eyes sparked.
Adele’s mouth didn’t harden into a line, like Calder thought it would. Instead, it spread into a thin smile that was a million times worse. “It’s a shame he doesn’t take after his mother more.”
Calder had no idea what that meant, and he looked around for Patrick, who’d already found a spot and waved at him from a table—the damn table of honor. Calder considered hiding in the corner again, but trudged toward his boyfriend instead.
“You should’ve retreated when you had the chance. I did,” Patrick said around a piece of grapefruit.
“Yeah, and you left me to deal with them. But Deacon did say you need more bacon in your diet. And whipped cream.”
“I’m sure he didn’t say—”
Calder held a strawberry to Patrick’s lips, cutting him off. The whipped cream smeared across them just enough to look obscene. “He kind of did, and now you have to lick that off, or I’ll do it for you.”
Patrick’s eyes lit up with the challenge, and he swept his tongue over his lips slowly. He’d done that before with something that wasn’t whipped cream. Calder’s pants tightened in the groin, and he swallowed as Patrick bit into the strawberry and smirked.
“You asked for it. Do you really want me to get you riled up before you get the award for your bravery?”
“Maybe they’ll give me an award for that too,” Calder said and shot him a wide grin. “You should be getting one too, by the way.”
They’d had this discussion before, after the commissioner told Adele what he wanted to do. Patrick had saved plenty of people that night. He’d been bruised and bleeding, his lungs were rough with smoke inhalation, and he still managed to lift up a table and save Adele and several other people, all without superpowers.
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t need an award for bravery.”
“Why? Did you win the science fair instead?”
“I did at Darkvale Tech. I would if I entered the one at Vale U as well, but I won’t. I have an unfair advantage,” Patrick said, without a hint of smugness.
“Being a genius isn’t an unfair advantage,” Calder said as he inhaled his eggs.
Patrick nibbled on his muffin. “Neither is being you. But I meant money wise. At Darkvale Tech, I was too young to dip into my trust fund. Now, all bets are off.”
What he meant was neither is being Titan. Calder knew him well enough to understand that.
Patrick also didn’t mention that he created enough stuff to make Tesla jealous, and he didn’t get to tell most people about it. Usually he just ended up using it himself or patenting it under one of BishopCorp’s many tech companies.
But Calder knew the truth. He’d seen Patrick up late at night working on stuff that made his head dizzy if he bothered asking. The answers he got were usually too technical or too simple—no in between.
There was only one thing he hadn’t gotten to yet, and that made Calder’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. That file Patrick (actually, Apprentice) had stolen from a secret King Inc. server. He said it was still decrypting or whatever, and Calder had no choice but to believe him and wait to see what it said.
Since it had been hidden by Adele, who knew what it could be. Hopefully not bad enough to give X and Apprentice a reason to go after her. Calder had to grudgingly admit they’d done some good for Darkvale by getting the corruption in the eyes of the populace although he didn’t always agree with their more extreme methods.
He thought about slipping his hand under the table to touch Patrick’s knee, but Adele and Deacon took their seats at the same table, followed by some other important looking people that Calder didn’t recognize.
He did recognize the commissioner, an older man with salt and pepper hair but an imposing build all the same. Not as imposing as Calder at six foot three, but close enough.
Calder’s hand curled into a fist, and Patrick’s fingers were there to pry it open. Squeeze it gently and toss him a small, secret smile that was actually his and not something put on for anyone else in the room. Well, anyone but Calder.
He focused on eating and the way Patrick’s finger stroked his pulse point as the conversation at the table drifted from how Deacon was recovering (and condolences), to if the DCPD had made any progress on the vigilante problem.
Patrick’s fingers tightened at that, and Calder squeezed back, slowly bringing the hand up and kissing it.
Patrick’s eyes widened, and Calder let himself be pleased for a moment. Surprising Patrick wasn’t easy.
A few people eyed them, but it wasn’t like they were walking down the street like that. Or around campus. That always riled Titan’s anger into a near frenzy. This just gave it a slight and uncomfortable nudge.
Thankfully, the only questions Calder was asked were about school and football. That’s all they thought he was good for, after all, and it leaned heavily on the latter. If they asked him about Darkvale’s vigilantes, he wasn’t sure he could give an opinion that wasn’t going to piss people off, Adele included.
He was almost relieved when a woman approached the podium and motioned for the commissioner to join her.
Calder knew a lot of the people he’d saved were there, as were a handful of others getting an award for the same thing, but he wouldn’t have recognized them if he met them. His memories of that night were all elation turned to terror. Fire and ash and the sound of the building about to give out around them as he rushed to help everyone he could.
He hadn’t known about the second bomb at that time, and he didn’t give a thought to the protesters who’d been outside. It’s not like he beat himself up about it (he wasn’t Patrick), but it didn’t escape his notice that the people invited here were the same type of people who’d been invited to the Governor’s Ball, not the ones on the street who wanted their city to be free of corruption and crime. He really fought for them, didn’t he? Not the system so steeped in corruption it couldn’t even see it or didn’t want to.
“We’re here today to honor a brave young man who, despite the circumstances, did his best to save as many people as he could during the terrorist attack on December 8th. Calder King is not only a skilled quarterback and scholar—”
Patrick snorted at the scholar bit under his breath.
Adele threw him an admonishing glare, and Patrick had the decency to look ashamed. Calder just smiled at him. He knew he wasn’t dumb, but he wasn’t Patrick either.
“—he also risked his life for strangers. Twenty-three people got out of the Governor’s Mansion the night of the bombing because Calder King carried them out. Many of those who survived are here, perhaps looking at the young man who rescued you for the first time. Unlike those who wear masks to hide their evil intentions, Calder King is one of the true heroes of Darkvale City alongside the paramedics, fire department and the brave members of the DCPD.”
Then the commissioner pointed at Calder, who stood up and held his shoulders back as he trotted toward the stage. If he pretended he was on the field, bristling with confidence, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t see his underlying annoyance.
Giving him an award after everything the VS had done. Everything X and Apprentice had done. Evil intentions—this asshole had no clue what he was talking about.
The woman next to the commissioner handed Calder a plaque, gold plate on dark wood, and he barely glanced at it before he turned to the audience.
Patrick beamed at him, but he threw curious glances to the commissioner every few seconds as well. Adele smiled broadly and clapped.
Deacon smiled his shark smile, and Calder wasn’t sure where he was looking. So much for saving his stupid life.
Calder rubbed the back of his neck. Adele gave him rules for this too: be humble and brief. Don’t mention vigilantes at all. Well, he had an idea to manage that.
“Uh, thanks for this. It’s pretty cool to be honored. A—my mom told me to say that. It means more to me than my football trophies, but I think you have it wrong. It wasn’t just me and the good men and women of fire and rescue who helped people that night. Patrick Black was with me when the roof collapsed around us, and he got a lot of people out too. He even found my mom under a table and helped her out before he got treated for his own wounds. And, considering he’s not a quarterback in size or strength, that’s saying something.”
A few camera flashes went off, and Calder hoped he looked pleased and humble without being smug. The crowd clapped slowly, unsure, and Calder gave a quick nod of his head and climbed down. He gripped the dumb plaque so tightly he was sure it’d snap in half.
A few people murmured their surprise, and the commissioner started another speech to give someone else an award for their duty to the city in the time of crisis.
“Eloquent words, Mr. Quarterback,” Patrick teased as Calder eased into the seat next to him.
“I thought so too,” Calder said and fought to smile though he felt Adele’s gaze on him, boring holes in his skull.
Yeah, she probably wasn’t happy about that, though he’d been both humble and brief without saying how stupid he thought the whole anti-vigilante movement was. Ha! The reason the VS wasn’t there to clean up the bombing was because Titan was there doing it in his tuxedo.
Deacon gave him a brief nod, that could’ve been approving or conniving—Calder wasn’t sure. Then he turned and mentioned an upcoming merger to Adele, and she kept pursing her lips like she bit into a lemon.
Calder was considering how much longer they had to stay when Lydia Baratta approached and tried to talk to the commissioner, who stiffened and briskly told her he had other business.
Patrick and Deacon shared a look at that, like they were reading each other’s minds, and Calder’s gut seized up.
Frank Baratta wasn’t just a typical mob boss. His empire had been growing before the bombing, and even when his dirty cops were exposed, it didn’t slow down. It seemed like it sped up, probably due to X being out of commission and the VS learning how to work without the DCPD giving orders. A few new vigilantes (the kids at school started calling them ‘masks’) were on the streets. Prophet and Dire, Calder’s fellow VS members had even run into one a few months before, but Titan had never had that distinct pleasure.
“Will you be visiting Metro with Calder for the big game? The last of the season, I think,” Adele asked as Deacon stood up. The question was aimed at Patrick, who managed to smile without faltering.
“I’d love to, but—”
“We have a thing with the press that Sunday,” Deacon put in, fixing his purple tie.
Adele nodded. “I see. You have been keeping a low profile lately.”
“Recuperating and mourning. They can’t be rushed, but I think I’m ready to jump back into the thick of it,” Deacon said, teeth glinting, though he managed to look strained around the eyes and just sorry enough that it was believable. From what Patrick said, Deacon had been torn up about the whole thing.
Calder wondered what a torn up Deacon Bishop looked like.
“I’m sorry I won’t be able to make the game, Cal,” Patrick said and squeezed his shoulder.
“No biggie,” Calder said, since he’d already figured. Patrick didn’t care about his games (or that he was the star player of the Vale U Lions), and Calder didn’t care about Patrick watching, but Titan bristled all the same. There were reasons he’d liked to have Patrick around, but they were too selfish to voice.
His hold on Titan was getting looser, more tenuous, by the day, and admitting that was like willfully cutting off his own damn hand. Not to mention Adele might force him back into a cage, a metaphorical one at least, by kicking him off the VS if he said he was having anger issues again. The therapy just annoyed him, and he couldn’t do anything to temper that rage.
But Patrick could.
“I’ll walk you home,” Patrick said, ignoring Adele and Deacon, and giving Calder a bright smile that was too cheerful to be completely honest.
“Yeah? Great. I gotta take a trip to the bathroom first.”
Patrick hummed, which meant he understood, but also that he had a plan.
Patrick’s plans were either trouble or a whole lot of fun.
Usually both.
“I’ll join you. See you later, Deacon. It’s always a pleasure, Ms. King,” Patrick managed without sounding insincere in the least.
Calder didn’t bother to look at them, just turned and walked toward the exit with Patrick’s steady footsteps behind him.
This was his day, after all.
What could go wrong?
June 17, 2016
Manuscript Friday: Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two) In which Calder brings Patrick to a warehouse for kinky sex play
My brain is editing fried. Which means I'm gonna take a little break on the weekend to recuperate before I burn out.
But the book is coming along. It's both kinkier and sweeter than the last Broken Heroes book, in different ways, so I hope you guys like it.
I was going to post more sexy superhero fan art, but then a new chapter of Twittering Birds Never Fly hit the web and I just have to share. I do buy the manga I read online, but I can't wait until the English book gets released for this one. It's way too much pressure. Please do support manga though! Especially the amazing Yoneda Kou!
Anyhow, this happened:
Yep. I died. Doumeki. Damn. Also, the look of Yashiro's face! Ha!
And now for more from Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two). This is still being edited and is subject to change a bit. Enjoy!
“The cuffs?” Calder muttered and ran his fingers down Patrick’s arms.
“Yeah. You can take them off.”
Calder did, eyes flitting to the red marks on Patrick’s wrists and ankles. They stood out on his skin, pale and at odds with his black hair. They’d probably bruise too, from the look of it. He thought they’d be loose enough not to. Looks like he’d been wrong.
Or Patrick struggled more than he’d anticipated.
Calder kissed each one and wiped the dried come off Patrick’s stomach.
“You’re way too gentle sometimes. I’m not going to break,” Patrick said, an amused eyebrow raised, curved like the ears of a cat.
Calder squeezed the wipe, which smelled like lemon and antiseptic. “You always say that.”
But it wasn’t true. Patrick could break. Titan could break him. They both knew that, but Patrick trusted him not to. Probably more than Calder himself did half the time.
Patrick’s fingers brushed through Calder’s hair, tugging him closer by the back of the neck.“You want to kiss me after—”
“You gave me the best rimming of my life? Yes. Please. Got a problem with that?” Patrick asked and licked inside Calder’s mouth in a way that was just this side of dirty.
He could fuck Patrick five more times tonight—any night, just about—but Patrick was the one who couldn’t handle it. Not when he looked dead on his fucking feet.
Calder groaned, melting into the kiss, and grinned when Patrick pulled away. “Best of your life, huh? How many other guys have gone down on your ass? And the bj?”
Patrick snorted. “The bj was acceptable. I still think you need more practice. Maybe once a day.”
“Yeah, well, your blow jobs suck too. You should do me twice a day.”
“I suck and swallow. But I wouldn’t mind some extra practice in the least,” Patrick said around a smirk and stood up.
Right. Clothes. The dorm. They had to get back before they got caught breaking curfew again.
Adele would give him another lecture about being a responsible young adult if that happened. His gut twisted at that thought. She’d be home soon, and after he heard what she had to say, her lectures might not mean much anymore.
“So, were you playing around or did I really do a good job of surprising you?” Calder asked as Patrick frowned at his sliced up clothes.
“You had me fooled for about five seconds once or twice,” Patrick said, slipping those wire-framed glasses up his perfect nose. Behind the lenses, his bright blue eyes sparked. “The aftershave was a nice touch. But Dr. Layton? Really?”
Calder blinked. “What about Layton?”
Patrick crossed his arms. “You were wearing the same aftershave he does. And you didn’t do it on purpose, did you?”
It would sound stupid if he admitted that no, he hadn’t. But more to the point—“Why do you know Layton’s aftershave?”
“I noticed it the last time we stayed after to ask him about the lab, and you made fun of me for being hot for teacher because I said he was interesting,” Patrick said and pulled on his socks. Besides his coat, it was the only thing Calder hadn’t cut off of him.
“Oh. Right. But his aftershave? I just grabbed whatever from the drugstore on the way here to throw you off the trail. I didn’t want to make you think Layton kidnapped you. Is that why you were freaking out a couple of times,” Calder said as he put on his own clothes.
“Not Layton, but if I tell you the truth, you’ll freak out,” Patrick said with a shrug that didn’t make Calder feel better.
His stomach clenched into a tight little knot that forced a load of bile up his throat. “Wait. Did you think I was really gonna, you know, hurt you for real?”
Patrick’s cheeks, which had been flushed with color, blanched. “Not exactly. I thought, for a very short amount of time, that you might be X.”
“Deacon? When?” Calder said and stopped lacing up his boot. Patrick was still mostly naked, and Calder tossed Patrick his shirt.
Patrick sniffed it before he tugged it over his head, mussing his hair. “I said X, and it was right before you asked about taking the tape off. X wouldn’t do that, so I knew it was you for sure. It was stupid, I know.”
“But Deacon’s still on crutches. He pretended to kidnap you like that before? When you were a kid? Was that part of your rigorous training?” Calder didn’t mean to sound like that. Incredulous, Patrick would say. Arkley too. Those two should get together and have a thesaurus party or something.
Calder might not even remember his own childhood, but even he knew that was all kinds of fucked up.
Patrick shook his head. “Kidnapping, yes. Not the rest of it, pervert.”
“You’re the one who wanted your boyfriend to fake kidnap you,” Calder said and crossed his arms. Patrick grinned. “You’re the one who got so into it you didn’t want me to actually escape or know who you were. Good job, by the way. But what am I supposed to do about pants? You bring extras?”
He had a point.
Calder shook his head. Rubbed a hand over his hair sheepishly. “I didn’t know I’d have to cut yours off for trying to escape. I improvised that part.”
“So I’m supposed to walk around with your giant T-shirt and my boxers?” Patrick asked.
“I only cut the band of the jeans. Hold them up with a belt and you’re coat will cover it, and we’ll call a cab. It’s late enough no one should be around campus.”
Patrick didn’t argue further about the jeans, though he did look wistful as he yanked them on. “They made my ass look like a dream, and you ruined them.”
“All pants make your ass look like a dream,” Calder said and threw him that charming grin that got him out of too many situations to count. He’d only used it on girls until he met Patrick.
“Where are we anyway?” Patrick asked as he fished for something to secure this pants. Calder didn’t have a belt on hand, but there was a short piece of rope on the ground he’d thought about using with the cuffs. Patrick raised an eyebrow when he picked it up and looped it around his waist, trim and muscular, like the rest of him.
“By the docks. King Inc. owns the whole lot for a shipping venture. Uh, I don’t think that’s secret info.”
“Probably not, but you brought me to one of your mother’s buildings for kinky sex play? You better hope no one saw us or Calder King will get a tawdry reputation.”
Calder shrugged. “Hey, no one was around, and there aren’t any cameras. Plus, don’t you already have one of those?”
“That’s Deacon. I’ve worked on keeping mine clean. Adele just thinks I’m guilty by association. And maybe she heard rumors from my high school,” Patrick said, like an afterthought, as he pulled on his coat.
“What rumors?”
Patrick’s only reply was a smirk. “Nothing true, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“But you weren’t some simpering virgin before I met you. Must’ve done something to earn it,” Calder said and waggled his eyebrows, though a weird knot bulged in his stomach, ugly and covered in sharp edges. The idea of Patrick screwing around with someone else. . . . Yeah, best not think about it or he might break something.
“I’m always simpering, but you’re right about the virgin part. Is this the best time to talk about that? I’m starving, and I have to get some sleep before Econ tomorrow.”
Changing the subject was one of Patrick’s super powers. Or it would be if he had super powers. And him blowing it off just made that sharp knot worse. Calder shoved it down and threw an arm over Patrick’s slim shoulders, easy to do since he was so much shorter.
“Fine. How did the interview with that lady go?”
Patrick stiffened for a second. “Not great, but it should get Deacon back in the spotlight so it served its purpose.”
Calder squeezed Patrick’s bicep. “Any luck on those files from the house?” He tried to make his voice sound light and not so strained. Not sure if he pulled it off though. It’d be nice to go to Adele with more than pictures.
“No hits. Well, there were a few for parties and things that involved Adele. But nothing incriminating. Nothing from Project Lazarus or the Asclepius Lab. She covered her tracks immaculately, and I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Calder didn’t expect anything less either, even if it filled him with that same old nagging fire in his gut.
Patrick nuzzled his neck. “Midnight tacos sound good to you or is it just me? Señor Bueno is twenty-four hours.”
The journey to Darkvale from Metro did make Calder hungry. Plus, who could say no to tacos? He leaned down and pressed his mouth into Patrick’s head, sucking in the scent of his sweat and shampoo and that gel he used. “I knew there was a reason you were my boyfriend.”
Patrick chuckled. “Noted.”
As they walked away, Calder told himself he was being stupid for worrying about dumb shit like that. Patrick promised not to keep important information from him anymore, and he hadn’t so far.
Their relationship was build on trust.
Trust and tacos.
But the book is coming along. It's both kinkier and sweeter than the last Broken Heroes book, in different ways, so I hope you guys like it.
I was going to post more sexy superhero fan art, but then a new chapter of Twittering Birds Never Fly hit the web and I just have to share. I do buy the manga I read online, but I can't wait until the English book gets released for this one. It's way too much pressure. Please do support manga though! Especially the amazing Yoneda Kou!
Anyhow, this happened:
Yep. I died. Doumeki. Damn. Also, the look of Yashiro's face! Ha!
And now for more from Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two). This is still being edited and is subject to change a bit. Enjoy!
“The cuffs?” Calder muttered and ran his fingers down Patrick’s arms.
“Yeah. You can take them off.”
Calder did, eyes flitting to the red marks on Patrick’s wrists and ankles. They stood out on his skin, pale and at odds with his black hair. They’d probably bruise too, from the look of it. He thought they’d be loose enough not to. Looks like he’d been wrong.
Or Patrick struggled more than he’d anticipated.
Calder kissed each one and wiped the dried come off Patrick’s stomach.
“You’re way too gentle sometimes. I’m not going to break,” Patrick said, an amused eyebrow raised, curved like the ears of a cat.
Calder squeezed the wipe, which smelled like lemon and antiseptic. “You always say that.”
But it wasn’t true. Patrick could break. Titan could break him. They both knew that, but Patrick trusted him not to. Probably more than Calder himself did half the time.
Patrick’s fingers brushed through Calder’s hair, tugging him closer by the back of the neck.“You want to kiss me after—”
“You gave me the best rimming of my life? Yes. Please. Got a problem with that?” Patrick asked and licked inside Calder’s mouth in a way that was just this side of dirty.
He could fuck Patrick five more times tonight—any night, just about—but Patrick was the one who couldn’t handle it. Not when he looked dead on his fucking feet.
Calder groaned, melting into the kiss, and grinned when Patrick pulled away. “Best of your life, huh? How many other guys have gone down on your ass? And the bj?”
Patrick snorted. “The bj was acceptable. I still think you need more practice. Maybe once a day.”
“Yeah, well, your blow jobs suck too. You should do me twice a day.”
“I suck and swallow. But I wouldn’t mind some extra practice in the least,” Patrick said around a smirk and stood up.
Right. Clothes. The dorm. They had to get back before they got caught breaking curfew again.
Adele would give him another lecture about being a responsible young adult if that happened. His gut twisted at that thought. She’d be home soon, and after he heard what she had to say, her lectures might not mean much anymore.
“So, were you playing around or did I really do a good job of surprising you?” Calder asked as Patrick frowned at his sliced up clothes.
“You had me fooled for about five seconds once or twice,” Patrick said, slipping those wire-framed glasses up his perfect nose. Behind the lenses, his bright blue eyes sparked. “The aftershave was a nice touch. But Dr. Layton? Really?”
Calder blinked. “What about Layton?”
Patrick crossed his arms. “You were wearing the same aftershave he does. And you didn’t do it on purpose, did you?”
It would sound stupid if he admitted that no, he hadn’t. But more to the point—“Why do you know Layton’s aftershave?”
“I noticed it the last time we stayed after to ask him about the lab, and you made fun of me for being hot for teacher because I said he was interesting,” Patrick said and pulled on his socks. Besides his coat, it was the only thing Calder hadn’t cut off of him.
“Oh. Right. But his aftershave? I just grabbed whatever from the drugstore on the way here to throw you off the trail. I didn’t want to make you think Layton kidnapped you. Is that why you were freaking out a couple of times,” Calder said as he put on his own clothes.
“Not Layton, but if I tell you the truth, you’ll freak out,” Patrick said with a shrug that didn’t make Calder feel better.
His stomach clenched into a tight little knot that forced a load of bile up his throat. “Wait. Did you think I was really gonna, you know, hurt you for real?”
Patrick’s cheeks, which had been flushed with color, blanched. “Not exactly. I thought, for a very short amount of time, that you might be X.”
“Deacon? When?” Calder said and stopped lacing up his boot. Patrick was still mostly naked, and Calder tossed Patrick his shirt.
Patrick sniffed it before he tugged it over his head, mussing his hair. “I said X, and it was right before you asked about taking the tape off. X wouldn’t do that, so I knew it was you for sure. It was stupid, I know.”
“But Deacon’s still on crutches. He pretended to kidnap you like that before? When you were a kid? Was that part of your rigorous training?” Calder didn’t mean to sound like that. Incredulous, Patrick would say. Arkley too. Those two should get together and have a thesaurus party or something.
Calder might not even remember his own childhood, but even he knew that was all kinds of fucked up.
Patrick shook his head. “Kidnapping, yes. Not the rest of it, pervert.”
“You’re the one who wanted your boyfriend to fake kidnap you,” Calder said and crossed his arms. Patrick grinned. “You’re the one who got so into it you didn’t want me to actually escape or know who you were. Good job, by the way. But what am I supposed to do about pants? You bring extras?”
He had a point.
Calder shook his head. Rubbed a hand over his hair sheepishly. “I didn’t know I’d have to cut yours off for trying to escape. I improvised that part.”
“So I’m supposed to walk around with your giant T-shirt and my boxers?” Patrick asked.
“I only cut the band of the jeans. Hold them up with a belt and you’re coat will cover it, and we’ll call a cab. It’s late enough no one should be around campus.”
Patrick didn’t argue further about the jeans, though he did look wistful as he yanked them on. “They made my ass look like a dream, and you ruined them.”
“All pants make your ass look like a dream,” Calder said and threw him that charming grin that got him out of too many situations to count. He’d only used it on girls until he met Patrick.
“Where are we anyway?” Patrick asked as he fished for something to secure this pants. Calder didn’t have a belt on hand, but there was a short piece of rope on the ground he’d thought about using with the cuffs. Patrick raised an eyebrow when he picked it up and looped it around his waist, trim and muscular, like the rest of him.
“By the docks. King Inc. owns the whole lot for a shipping venture. Uh, I don’t think that’s secret info.”
“Probably not, but you brought me to one of your mother’s buildings for kinky sex play? You better hope no one saw us or Calder King will get a tawdry reputation.”
Calder shrugged. “Hey, no one was around, and there aren’t any cameras. Plus, don’t you already have one of those?”
“That’s Deacon. I’ve worked on keeping mine clean. Adele just thinks I’m guilty by association. And maybe she heard rumors from my high school,” Patrick said, like an afterthought, as he pulled on his coat.
“What rumors?”
Patrick’s only reply was a smirk. “Nothing true, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“But you weren’t some simpering virgin before I met you. Must’ve done something to earn it,” Calder said and waggled his eyebrows, though a weird knot bulged in his stomach, ugly and covered in sharp edges. The idea of Patrick screwing around with someone else. . . . Yeah, best not think about it or he might break something.
“I’m always simpering, but you’re right about the virgin part. Is this the best time to talk about that? I’m starving, and I have to get some sleep before Econ tomorrow.”
Changing the subject was one of Patrick’s super powers. Or it would be if he had super powers. And him blowing it off just made that sharp knot worse. Calder shoved it down and threw an arm over Patrick’s slim shoulders, easy to do since he was so much shorter.
“Fine. How did the interview with that lady go?”
Patrick stiffened for a second. “Not great, but it should get Deacon back in the spotlight so it served its purpose.”
Calder squeezed Patrick’s bicep. “Any luck on those files from the house?” He tried to make his voice sound light and not so strained. Not sure if he pulled it off though. It’d be nice to go to Adele with more than pictures.
“No hits. Well, there were a few for parties and things that involved Adele. But nothing incriminating. Nothing from Project Lazarus or the Asclepius Lab. She covered her tracks immaculately, and I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Calder didn’t expect anything less either, even if it filled him with that same old nagging fire in his gut.
Patrick nuzzled his neck. “Midnight tacos sound good to you or is it just me? Señor Bueno is twenty-four hours.”
The journey to Darkvale from Metro did make Calder hungry. Plus, who could say no to tacos? He leaned down and pressed his mouth into Patrick’s head, sucking in the scent of his sweat and shampoo and that gel he used. “I knew there was a reason you were my boyfriend.”
Patrick chuckled. “Noted.”
As they walked away, Calder told himself he was being stupid for worrying about dumb shit like that. Patrick promised not to keep important information from him anymore, and he hadn’t so far.
Their relationship was build on trust.
Trust and tacos.
June 10, 2016
Manuscript Friday: Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two) Kinky Time for Calder and Patrick
Since Titan Unleashed comes out on a Friday (July 1st!), I've decided to do Manuscript Fridays instead of Mondays to keep things neat. I also might be OCD. And the lack of alliteration bugs me more than I should admit. . . .
Anyhow, besides franticly working on this book, I've been reading a lot of FMA fan fiction lately. If any one has any awesome recs, please send them my way. I love Roy/Ed (as long as Ed is legal) and any other slash pairing, like Roy/Maes or Roy/Havoc. Well, I'm not sure about Al/Scar. That was huge back when the original show was airing. With Brotherhood, I don't think it's as popular anymore.
I totes I ship Tim/Jason (or Robin/Red Hood, however you want to see it). Jason did try to kill Tim a few times, but I think they could work past that to the fun stuff. Plus, with fan art like this, how can I not ship it?
*drool*
Jason and Tim by f19850928
And now it's time for the first snippet from the book! Calder and Patrick have some fun sexy times before shit gets serious. And real. This is unedited and subject to change.
Enjoy!
“You know how to ruin someone’s Saturday, you know that?”
Patrick pretended that didn’t sting. Hooked his other foot around Calder’s arm and twisted free. “I can make it up to you.”
Calder’s brows quirked. “Yeah? How so? I’ve got practice in ten minutes and a paper to write by Monday. And fifty pages of philosophy to read.”
Patrick made a show of reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thin vile. The liquid inside it was clear. He pressed it into Calder’s palm and closed his fingers around it. “A new formula I’m testing out. Surprise me with it.”
Calder turned the vile over in his fingers. “Okay, I know your too straight-edge to be into anything drug-related. What does it do?”
Patrick leaned forward, catching Calder’s lips in a quick kiss before he whispered the effects in Calder’s ear.
Calder stiffened. Relaxed. “You want me to use it on you?”
“Try to catch me off guard. I could use the practice since I hardly have Titan to spar with anymore.
Why? Does that scare you?” Patrick asked and nipped at Calder’s earlobe. His jaw. Dragged his lips over Calder’s chin and leaned back in Calder’s bed, the comforter rumpled, and rubbed himself through his dress pants. His toes stretched and brushed Calder’s bulge, the damn thing on full display between his sinfully spread legs.
“You fuck,” Calder grunted and stood up. “Practice in ten, and you want me to be late. I should make you come inside your pants just so you have to explain it to the dry cleaners.”
“Hn. Sounds fun. Try it,” Patrick said, licking his lips and slipping his hand over his hardening cock, the outline of it clear under the navy fabric. “Plus, you hate those guys.”
“Some of them,” Calder corrected and climbed across the bed, shedding his pants as he did so.
If Patrick could still get him in the mood this easily, Calder must not have been too upset to begin with. Good. He didn’t need a pissed boyfriend on his mind too.
Calder yanked on Patrick’s legs, pulling him closer and buried his face against the strained fabric, brushing his nose and mouth along it, the heat tantalizing and not nearly enough.
Patrick’s fingers tangled in Calder’s hair, pressing his face closer. The slow drag of his tongue brought a moan to Patrick’s lips, choked in his throat, and he arched his back into the sensation.
The fabric dragged across his aroused flesh, the friction sharp, but Calder didn’t stop for long. He moved his body higher, letting Patrick grind into his chest, his hips, then his mouth was on Patrick’s and his tongue probed inside as his slick heat touched the fabric.
“You really—” Patrick managed between a strangled groan and the teeth that snagged on his bottom lip, pinching and bringing him that much closer to the edge.
“Should,” Calder growled and reached between them. “But I like feeling your dick too much.”
“And just think how oblivious you were to its power a year ago,” Patrick said, smiling as Calder’s deft fingers freed him.
Anyhow, besides franticly working on this book, I've been reading a lot of FMA fan fiction lately. If any one has any awesome recs, please send them my way. I love Roy/Ed (as long as Ed is legal) and any other slash pairing, like Roy/Maes or Roy/Havoc. Well, I'm not sure about Al/Scar. That was huge back when the original show was airing. With Brotherhood, I don't think it's as popular anymore.
I totes I ship Tim/Jason (or Robin/Red Hood, however you want to see it). Jason did try to kill Tim a few times, but I think they could work past that to the fun stuff. Plus, with fan art like this, how can I not ship it?
*drool*
Jason and Tim by f19850928 And now it's time for the first snippet from the book! Calder and Patrick have some fun sexy times before shit gets serious. And real. This is unedited and subject to change.
Enjoy!
“You know how to ruin someone’s Saturday, you know that?”
Patrick pretended that didn’t sting. Hooked his other foot around Calder’s arm and twisted free. “I can make it up to you.”
Calder’s brows quirked. “Yeah? How so? I’ve got practice in ten minutes and a paper to write by Monday. And fifty pages of philosophy to read.”
Patrick made a show of reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thin vile. The liquid inside it was clear. He pressed it into Calder’s palm and closed his fingers around it. “A new formula I’m testing out. Surprise me with it.”
Calder turned the vile over in his fingers. “Okay, I know your too straight-edge to be into anything drug-related. What does it do?”
Patrick leaned forward, catching Calder’s lips in a quick kiss before he whispered the effects in Calder’s ear.
Calder stiffened. Relaxed. “You want me to use it on you?”
“Try to catch me off guard. I could use the practice since I hardly have Titan to spar with anymore.
Why? Does that scare you?” Patrick asked and nipped at Calder’s earlobe. His jaw. Dragged his lips over Calder’s chin and leaned back in Calder’s bed, the comforter rumpled, and rubbed himself through his dress pants. His toes stretched and brushed Calder’s bulge, the damn thing on full display between his sinfully spread legs.
“You fuck,” Calder grunted and stood up. “Practice in ten, and you want me to be late. I should make you come inside your pants just so you have to explain it to the dry cleaners.”
“Hn. Sounds fun. Try it,” Patrick said, licking his lips and slipping his hand over his hardening cock, the outline of it clear under the navy fabric. “Plus, you hate those guys.”
“Some of them,” Calder corrected and climbed across the bed, shedding his pants as he did so.
If Patrick could still get him in the mood this easily, Calder must not have been too upset to begin with. Good. He didn’t need a pissed boyfriend on his mind too.
Calder yanked on Patrick’s legs, pulling him closer and buried his face against the strained fabric, brushing his nose and mouth along it, the heat tantalizing and not nearly enough.
Patrick’s fingers tangled in Calder’s hair, pressing his face closer. The slow drag of his tongue brought a moan to Patrick’s lips, choked in his throat, and he arched his back into the sensation.
The fabric dragged across his aroused flesh, the friction sharp, but Calder didn’t stop for long. He moved his body higher, letting Patrick grind into his chest, his hips, then his mouth was on Patrick’s and his tongue probed inside as his slick heat touched the fabric.
“You really—” Patrick managed between a strangled groan and the teeth that snagged on his bottom lip, pinching and bringing him that much closer to the edge.
“Should,” Calder growled and reached between them. “But I like feeling your dick too much.”
“And just think how oblivious you were to its power a year ago,” Patrick said, smiling as Calder’s deft fingers freed him.
June 4, 2016
Titan Unleashed (Broken Heroes Two) Cover Reveal!!!
I'm not dead! Nope, just busy working on the next Broken Heroes book, which I'm almost done with. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the length and I'm not going to have it done by June. It will come out at the beginning of July, however.
I've also been thinking I need to write more blog posts, but I'm not sure what to do. I'm not super keen on writing reviews of other gay romance novels, just cause it seems like *everyone* does that. I'd rather review yaoi or anime or comics or something. Or do posts about my writing process, if that's interesting to anyone. What do you guys think?
And, finally, what you've been waiting for: the first look at the Titan Unleashed cover. Enjoy!
[image error]
I've also been thinking I need to write more blog posts, but I'm not sure what to do. I'm not super keen on writing reviews of other gay romance novels, just cause it seems like *everyone* does that. I'd rather review yaoi or anime or comics or something. Or do posts about my writing process, if that's interesting to anyone. What do you guys think?
And, finally, what you've been waiting for: the first look at the Titan Unleashed cover. Enjoy!
[image error]
May 2, 2016
Trent (Alpha's Reign Book Three) Released!
It's time for another book release! This has been a little painful. My computer died and I'm doing everything on a tablet which takes five times as long *cries*
But the book is live, so all is good.
Check it out here:
Amazon
All Romance
Humans nearly died out over a hundred years ago, but the age of wolves is just beginning. . . .
Alphas rule what’s left of the world, and humans are little more than slaves. If a human is lucky enough to get bitten by an alpha, a whole new world opens up to them. A world of danger and luxury – sex and submission to their alpha.
When Trent is taken captive by Boss Yagami, his mates, Akito and Cole, will do anything to bring him back, but rescuing their alpha isn’t as easy as it seems. For one, Boss Yagami is safe behind the walls of his fortress. For another, Trent might not want to be saved if it risks the lives of his pack.
Inside Boss Yagami’s stronghold is the last place Trent wants to find himself. He escaped his father’s clutches once and vowed to never go back. He’s been starved and beaten, weakened so he can’t escape, but Trent won’t give up on seeing his mates again. Most of all, he’ll never rule Neo-Tokyo the way his father does, but his dangerous instincts might not give him a choice.
If Akito and Cole help end Boss Yagami’s reign, can they also subdue Trent’s alpha urges with the strength of their love?
But the book is live, so all is good.
Check it out here:
Amazon
All Romance
Humans nearly died out over a hundred years ago, but the age of wolves is just beginning. . . .
Alphas rule what’s left of the world, and humans are little more than slaves. If a human is lucky enough to get bitten by an alpha, a whole new world opens up to them. A world of danger and luxury – sex and submission to their alpha.
When Trent is taken captive by Boss Yagami, his mates, Akito and Cole, will do anything to bring him back, but rescuing their alpha isn’t as easy as it seems. For one, Boss Yagami is safe behind the walls of his fortress. For another, Trent might not want to be saved if it risks the lives of his pack.
Inside Boss Yagami’s stronghold is the last place Trent wants to find himself. He escaped his father’s clutches once and vowed to never go back. He’s been starved and beaten, weakened so he can’t escape, but Trent won’t give up on seeing his mates again. Most of all, he’ll never rule Neo-Tokyo the way his father does, but his dangerous instincts might not give him a choice.
If Akito and Cole help end Boss Yagami’s reign, can they also subdue Trent’s alpha urges with the strength of their love?
April 27, 2016
First Chapter Sneak Peek: Trent (Alpha's Reign Book Three)
I wanted to post this on Monday, but a storm knocked out the Internet on Friday, and I didn't get it back until yesterday afternoon. So, it's here now! Hooray!
Also, I'm currently working on the next Broken Heroes book which I hope to have out in June. It's called Titan Unleashed, and I'm having a whole lot of fun with it. Patrick and his issues. Calder has issues too. Good thing BDSM solves everything. Sort of.
Oh, and here's a hot pic from a shifter yaoi that I forgot the name of. It's a cat and a leopard, I think. Very smutty. ^_^
[image error]
Here's the first chapter of Trent (Alpha's Reign Book Three). Enjoy:
Akito Izumi stopped pacing a week ago.
Cole noticed it right away. Ever since they left Trent behind—their alpha and their mate—the omega moved constantly. He only slept when Cole forced him into bed and held him until he stopped shaking. And he spouted out at least a hundred different improbable ways they could rescue their mate from Boss Yagami, without dying themselves, every day.
Then, after a week of minimal progress (and that was being generous), Akito stopped.
A kind of stillness fell over him that Cole had never seen before. Not in the pens where they’d first met, both too young and scared. Not when Cole’d been taken by Trent, and Akito was the one taking care of him while Cole recovered from his addiction to X. No, the omega was always in motion, even when he was sitting still.
Now, a heaviness clamped on Akito’s shoulders and weighed him down. He stopped pacing around their rooftop apartment. He stopped twitching and ranting about how they needed to save Trent now! Before Boss Yagami started sending them pieces of him.
Cole knew that, and he was doing everything he could to figure out how. He let Akito say whatever he wanted and didn’t even tell him how dangerous most of the ideas were because Cole knew the omega was blowing off steam.
They were both close to helpless when it came to saving Trent, and that was worse than anything.
Akito curled into a ball on the couch, the fan blowing hot air around the room, and stared out the window across the landscape of the ruined city. He seemed to hold his breath like he expected Trent to step back through that door and ease the tension that hung there since he’d been gone.
Cole did what he could, but he didn’t have Trent’s strength or his position to back him up. Akito might’ve done a better job of rallying the pack with his easy charisma, which Cole also didn’t have.
He never wanted to be a wolf—not after what happened with Sari. But Akito changed his mind. Believed in him. And Trent, well, Trent pissed him off until Cole couldn’t help but give in. He didn’t expect an alpha to ever trust him the way Trent had. Love him the way Trent had, and loving Trent back was even stranger.
He’d never seen those fellow wolves as a part of his pack until recently, and now he was the senior most beta, which meant he was in charge. Not the strongest, but the highest ranking one in the pack. And the only thing he could say was a promise that felt emptier by the day.
We’ll get Trent back.
But would they?
Over the first week, while Akito threw around ideas, Cole gathered as much information as he could without putting their pack in danger. Their numbers had grown after absorbing nearly all the other packs inside Neo-Tokyo, but that didn’t mean they were as strong as Boss Yagami’s wolves.
They weren’t, and that’s why they’d acted so carefully up until this point.
Boss Yagami’s pack was older and more experienced. They’d been ruling Neo-Tokyo since Cole could remember, and he hadn’t even been a wolf back then.
He’d only sent a few wolves into Chiyoda, himself included, since Cole didn’t want anyone taking a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He and Makiko sneaked around the edges of Boss Yagami’s stronghold to see if they could get any word on Trent’s condition.
They didn’t.
They couldn’t even see inside the old Imperial Palace from the bottom of the walls. The only thing they could do was count how many wolves made up Boss Yagami’s pack. Cole didn’t like the answer.
Their own pack wasn’t so bloated, even with Raj’s pack along for the fight.
And when Cole came back home, Akito was conversely pissed he hadn’t been able to come and annoyed Trent wasn’t back yet.
At least, that’s how Cole saw it.
The only thing that calmed Cole’s nerves was that Akito hadn’t tried to take off on his own and save Trent. He wasn’t a typical weak omega, he’d proven that time and again, but he was all Cole had left, and if he got captured too—Cole didn’t want to think about it.
But he would’ve preferred a little more fire in Akito’s eyes than was currently present.
The moping was worse than the pacing, by far.
Trent had been gone two weeks today, and they needed to do something either to get him back, or to take down Boss Yagami.
Preferably both.
“I have to go down and give another briefing,” Cole said, his voice quiet next to the hum of the fan and the ever-present buzz of cicadas outside.
Akito pinched his mouth into a frown. “Do you actually have a plan this time?”
Cole let out a breath. “If I did, you’d be the first to know. You should come down. We need our omega.”
Akito’s fists tightened on the pillow under his head, and Cole bit back the urge to tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself. That wasn’t Akito’s problem, and Cole knew it.
When the omega didn’t respond, Cole turned and left him there.
Their pack needed a leader.
What they had was Cole.
Makiko stood next to him in the lobby of their new headquarters, tucked far enough from Boss Yagami’s territory that it was reasonably safe. Not completely safe, because they all knew what that alpha was capable of after Minato, but it was the best they could do. If they wasted time moving again, who knew what might happen to Trent.
The rest of the pack hunched against the wall or whispered amongst themselves. As far as Cole could tell, they didn’t have any deserters, but then, these wolves had no place to go. This was the only pack they had, and since they’d pledged loyalty to Trent, they could follow him or die in the Wilds.
But that was the thing—they were loyal to Trent, not his beta.
Cole took a deep breath and glanced across the room. They hadn’t bothered with the lights since they all saw in the dim twilight just fine. It hid many of the faces Cole spent months memorizing. He’d organized them before for short attacks on other alphas, but always with Trent by his side.
Never like this.
Never alone.
Makiko cleared her throat. Nudged his shoulder. “What’s the plan for today?”
Cole scratched his head and wished the sweat didn’t run between his shoulder blades and soak into his shirt. How to get Trent back without all of us dying in the process. But he didn’t say that, because it wasn’t rousing or brave.
It’s what a beta said, not what an alpha would say.
Cole almost shrugged when he caught a hint of movement to the left of the room, and Akito’s scent touched his nose. Even with all the other wolves in that room, he could still sense his mate amongst them.
Akito didn’t approach. He tucked himself into a corner, arms hugging his sides, and his eyes shone bright in the shadows that surrounded him. It’d have been better if he stayed upstairs in their room and hadn’t come down to watch Cole fail at leading their pack. Prove how much weaker than Trent he really was.
“I don’t know how to get him back,” Cole said under his breath. “I’m just a beta.”
Makiko stood very still, then nodded so slightly it hardly looked like she’d moved at all. Her hair was held at the base of her neck in a low ponytail, much like the ones Trent and Akito wore, and she looked like the locals with dark slanted eyes and thick black hair. She always dressed like a human, in loose threadbare dresses that didn’t intimidate like the normal dark suits the wolves wore. It also looked a hell of a lot cooler, which helped in the oppressive humidity that hung around the room. “It’s not just your alpha who’s in there. It’s our alpha, and we’ll all do whatever it takes to get him back. That’s why we’re here.”
Cole glanced at her. “And we could all die.”
What he really meant was Akito could die.
She nodded again. “We could, but we’ve come this far. Boss Yagami is weaker than he’s ever been. Do we try or give up?”
Maybe she should be the one coming up with the plan.
Cole looked at Akito again and cleared his throat. A few of the wolves glanced at him, and the rumbling of their various conversations dulled.
They gathered here once a day to discuss news and strategy, and so far they’d had very little in terms of both. Worse yet, Raj, Trent’s younger brother and the only alpha that worked with them instead of against them, hadn’t returned from his trip to gather his pack from their territory at the edge of the Wilds. Either he was bringing the rest of them to help, or they were fleeing from Boss Yagami’s wrath. Without word, Cole had no idea.
After how much Raj helped them, he hoped it was the former and not the latter.
Cole swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up straight. He wasn’t as tall as Trent, but he’d filled out since he got clean and ate regular meals. “Boss Yagami’s forces still patrol their border, but they haven’t invaded ours yet. They even fell back from Minato, and considering the mess they left there. . . . I’m not sure if they’ll be back. Facing them head on is going to get most of us killed, and I know that’s not what our alpha wanted.”
Across the room, Akito straightened.
Cole didn’t know if that was a sign of approval or not, but he didn’t want to be responsible for his pack mates lives if they couldn’t save Trent. “So we need a plan that will get us into the stronghold with little resistance. Unfortunately, Boss Yagami chose that place for a reason. It’s almost impossible to infiltrate without scaling the walls, and his wolves will notice that. We need a distraction. Something to divert their attention long enough to get in.”
The room rumbled as their pack mates mumbled to each other.
Cole sighed.
This is what always happened. They waited for him to come up with a plan without offering any of their own. He was just as much at a loss as they were, and they all had the same information.
“I’ll go,” Akito said and stepped forward. “I’ll offer to trade myself for Trent.”
The wolves parted and looked at their omega.
Cole squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge to stalk across the room and drag Akito upstairs. He would say something like that, because saving Trent was the first thing on his mind, not keeping himself alive. And it wasn’t even an omega thing. It was just an Akito thing.
Loyal to a fault.
“What does Boss Yagami want with Trent’s omega?” Makiko asked suddenly and stepped in front of Cole. “I might as well offer myself up. He’d take and kill any of us, but we all know our alpha doesn’t want that. And it won’t help him escape.”
Akito scowled and put his hands on his hips. He didn’t stalk any closer, and Cole put his hand on Makiko’s shoulder and squeezed.
“She’s partially right. But if either of us went in, he’d use it against Trent and you know it, Aki.”
“So we do nothing?” Akito growled, and his eyes widened.
It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but they’d had this argument in private. Not in front of the entire pack.
Cole scraped his hand through his pale hair and frowned. “No. But we do something that will work. Do you think he’d want us to throw away all the progress we made to rescue him? You’ve known him the longest. Tell me what you think he’d want?”
Akito opened his mouth then clamped it shut again. His shoulders slumped, and he broke contact with Cole’s gaze.
That couldn’t be good. Cole itched to approach. Yank Akito into a hug and kiss him until Akito forgave him, but doing that in front of their pack wasn’t the best idea. He fisted his hands and set his jaw instead.
“You’re right, but Trent also didn’t know what was best for him. He spent too much time worrying about us,” Akito grumbled.
Us could’ve meant the pack as a whole, and it did to a certain extent. But Cole knew it held another nuanced meaning that the rest of the wolves in the room probably sussed out as well.
His mates.
Trent worried too much about them. Enough that it drove him to distraction in their first run in with Boss Yagami and ended with Trent’s capture.
“I know,” Cole said, his voice gruff. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. Frowned. “But we can’t change that now. The only thing we can do is make sure any plan we come up with is a good one. Good enough to give us odds of survival better than zero.”
Akito didn’t have a reply to that, and a few other wolves stepped forward to share what they’d heard in the last day regarding Boss Yagami’s movements around Chiyoda. Nothing much had changed, and Cole nodded and wished he could do more.
But what?
Storm in and get everyone killed?
That wouldn’t help Neo-Tokyo.
And no matter how badly he wanted Trent back, the cost of getting him back couldn’t be that high or the alpha would hate it.
The pack drifted apart after that, off to do their own surveillance and to patrol their own borders. Cole would’ve joined them, but leaving Akito like that was never a good idea.
He headed upstairs instead, following Akito’s musk through the worn hallways and onto the roof.
The sky above Neo-Tokyo was a bright blue, the same color as Cole’s eyes, and the far off clouds in the distance promised no respite from the heat. He swiped his brow, slick with sweat, and stepped into their apartment.
A fan buzzed in the corner of the room, and Akito stood over a pitcher of water. He poured two glasses and ripped off his shirt, yanking it over his head and mussing his dark hair.
It hung to his shoulders, a thick black curtain, and his eyes flashed. “He could be dead for all we know.”
Cole kicked off his shoes before he came in, as was custom, and peeled off his jacket. Wearing it seemed like little more than a useless ceremony, but he put it on in the morning nonetheless. He undid his shirt too. Took the water and drained it before he said anything.
“He’s not. Boss Yagami wouldn’t keep that to himself.”
Akito pinched his eyes shut. “Being a wolf was supposed to keep me from being useless. I’m supposed to be able to help and instead—”
“I know,” Cole said and kissed Akito’s brow.
He didn’t pull away, which was a good sign. “I’m going to go crazy if I have to sit around here and wait any longer. We can’t wait for Yagami to make a move, you know. It might cost the pack—might cost us, but we have to do something.”
Cole bit his bottom lip.
Denying Akito what he wanted was never wise. It prompted the omega to do things. Usually dangerous things. “I know, but I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone, and it’s not easy. I’m no alpha. I’m hardly a fucking beta. And I can’t lose you too, okay? You might love him more than you love me, but we’re all mates. I want Trent back as much as you do.”
“What?” Akito breathed and his head snapped up, eyes wide. The irises were dark, but since he’d been turned into a wolf they were lined with amber. It glowed now. “You think I love Trent more than I love you?”
His shirt stuck to the sweat on his back, and Cole slipped it off. Crumpled the material in his fist and fought not to frown. He lost that battle quickly. “I don’t think. I know, Aki. And I don’t. . . it doesn’t matter because I know you do love me. And I love you, but without him—”
“He’s our alpha! Of course I care. And I don’t love him more and you less. That’s stupid! I love you both. I’d be this crazy if you were somewhere out there, and I couldn’t get to you. If Boss Yagami had you instead of him—shit! You have no fucking clue how sick I’d be. Don’t you want him back?”
Cole’s grip on the shirt tightened. “Of course I want him back. You don’t think that’s what I’ve been trying to do? You’ve come with us on scouting missions. You know what we’re up against. How do you think he’d feel if you died? How do you think I would feel?”
Akito sipped his water and set the glass down harder than necessary. It was amazing he hadn’t broken it with his newfound wolf strength. “Like I would if anything happened to either of you. Like you felt when I disappeared. I just—I want him back!” he cried and threw his arms into the air.
Cole stared at him, the helplessness seeping over him like it had that night. The only thing they could do was run. An alpha usually didn’t sacrifice him or herself for a lesser wolf, but Trent did because he was better than other alphas.
He’d proven that time and again.
“I do too. I can’t hold the pack together much longer. I’m not a leader,” Cole said carefully. The words coated his mouth like oil. Heavy and unpleasant.
Akito grabbed his hands and squeezed. “I don’t want him back because he’s our alpha. I want him back because he’s our mate. You’re doing fine. Nobody else knows what to do either.”
Cole snorted. Raj might know what to do, but Raj wasn’t there. “Trent would.”
Akito raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t always. He spent ages looking for the right beta. And after Minato his conquests slowed. You’re right. He was worried about everyone’s safety. The whole pack. He didn’t want any of us to end up dead.”
“He was most worried about you,” Cole said and pulled Akito against his chest. It was too sticky to hug like that. Too hot and oppressive, even with that fan blowing warm air across them, but letting go of Akito seemed like the most impossible thing in the world at that moment.
Akito’s fingers dug into Cole’s back, clinging to him. “I was worried about both of you. Love him more? Why would you think that?”
Cole shrugged. “You knew him longer.”
“I knew you first,” Akito countered and pressed his mouth into Cole’s shoulder.
Akito was shorter and slighter than Cole, being an omega, but he’d put on a layer of tight muscle since he’d been bitten and started training to fight with the best of them. His chest was still slender but defined, and his biceps tightened as he pulled Cole as close as he could get.
“You usually take his side,” Cole said, which sounded silly after it left his mouth.
Akito shook his head. “Do not. I take his side when he’s right. He wasn’t right about not changing me, and you knew it. You took his side then.”
“I took your side, but not in front of the pack,” Cole said and sucked in Akito’s scent.
“We have something different, it’s not about more or less. We both know what it’s like in the pens. What it’s like to be human, and you won’t forget. You won’t let me forget, and Trent can’t ever know what it feels like.”
Cole’s jaw tensed, and he nodded. Trent was suffering out there, and they needed to think of a way to save him, yet he couldn’t pull himself out of Akito’s hold if he tried.
“We’ll get him back,” Cole said, for what had to be the thousandth time.
Akito nodded and leaned up. His mouth trembled as he pressed it into Cole’s, and the beta understood his hesitation. They hadn’t kissed much since they left Trent behind. Hadn’t touched more than brisk hugs and pats on the shoulder. Without their alpha, a piece of them was missing, and if they gave in to this it felt like they were getting on without him. Giving up on him. When that wasn’t the case.
Not at all.
Cole wouldn’t do that until he was dead, and he knew Akito felt the same.
His lips melted into Akito’s kiss, and his grip tightened on Akito’s hips, pressing into him. The brush of Akito’s tongue sent a rush of heat down his spine and rocketed to his cock.
His body, slick with sweat, focused on nothing else but the omega before him. How close they were to losing each other. Their big move against Boss Yagami could be the end for them all, and if that was the case, they both needed this.
Something to remember before that happened—remember why they were fighting so hard for this.
For each other.
Akito groaned, grinding his groin against Cole’s, his length hardening.
They didn’t need words now. They never did in moments like this.
Cole reached between them, undid the front of Akito’s pants and slipped them down. Akito muttered something and returned the favor, freeing Cole’s cock and wrapping his spit slick palm around it.
“We have oil,” Cole grunted.
“Don’t care,” Akito breathed against his lips and kissed him again.
The heat of that mouth—that hand, engulfed him, and Cole’s body gave in to it.
His thumb encircled the tip of Akito’s shaft, wet and ready, and slicked it over the length. Akito pumped into the touch, his leg wrapping around Cole’s hip to bring them closer.
Press their flesh together and—
Cole moaned.
Stroked them both harder.
Faster.
For the first time in nearly two agonizing weeks, something else mattered.
All the pent up energy needed somewhere to go, and this was the perfect place.
With Akito.
Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?
When they got Trent back. . . .
Cole’s mouth trailed over Akito’s jaw, lined with stubble, and down his long neck. It caressed his coarse hair and lapped at the salty flesh, catching Akito’s earlobe in his teeth.
Akito hissed. Squeezed Cole’s ass and moaned again—the sound rich and far too fleeting. It wasn’t his typical moan, the one without any abandon, but Cole didn’t expect that. Not now. The sound sunk into his skin and surged through him, charged with electricity.
Akito bit his shoulder, suckling at the flesh until Cole hissed. Like Akito was trying to keep his mind from thinking of anything but this.
Anything but the future.
The lust coiled in his gut, his groin, rolling with every sweep of his palm. The friction built with each thrust, misplaced and badly timed, but none of that mattered.
That mouth on his collarbone mattered. And the sounds Akito made, pleading and desperate and close to a sob, mattered.
Saving Trent mattered.
The orgasm sneaked up on him, on them both. The sticky mess leaked over their hands, and Akito panted against him, sweaty and reeking of musk and sex and everything Cole loved about him.
He wasn’t surprised when Akito pressed his face into Cole’s shoulder, his cheeks damp, chest heaving and heart racing.
Cole gripped onto his omega, eyes stinging, and kissed his mussed hair.
“We’ll get him back.”
“How?” Akito asked.
Cole chewed his bottom lip, letting the mess drip between them. Back with the rest of the pack, Akito offered to turn himself in to Boss Yagami. That sort of trade would never work—they both knew it.
But. . . . but maybe there was someone who Boss Yagami would trade for Trent.
Someone that bastard wanted to hurt more than their alpha.
It was a long shot, but what other choice did they have?
“I have an idea, but I don’t think Raj will like it,” Cole said.
Also, I'm currently working on the next Broken Heroes book which I hope to have out in June. It's called Titan Unleashed, and I'm having a whole lot of fun with it. Patrick and his issues. Calder has issues too. Good thing BDSM solves everything. Sort of.
Oh, and here's a hot pic from a shifter yaoi that I forgot the name of. It's a cat and a leopard, I think. Very smutty. ^_^
[image error]
Here's the first chapter of Trent (Alpha's Reign Book Three). Enjoy:
Akito Izumi stopped pacing a week ago.
Cole noticed it right away. Ever since they left Trent behind—their alpha and their mate—the omega moved constantly. He only slept when Cole forced him into bed and held him until he stopped shaking. And he spouted out at least a hundred different improbable ways they could rescue their mate from Boss Yagami, without dying themselves, every day.
Then, after a week of minimal progress (and that was being generous), Akito stopped.
A kind of stillness fell over him that Cole had never seen before. Not in the pens where they’d first met, both too young and scared. Not when Cole’d been taken by Trent, and Akito was the one taking care of him while Cole recovered from his addiction to X. No, the omega was always in motion, even when he was sitting still.
Now, a heaviness clamped on Akito’s shoulders and weighed him down. He stopped pacing around their rooftop apartment. He stopped twitching and ranting about how they needed to save Trent now! Before Boss Yagami started sending them pieces of him.
Cole knew that, and he was doing everything he could to figure out how. He let Akito say whatever he wanted and didn’t even tell him how dangerous most of the ideas were because Cole knew the omega was blowing off steam.
They were both close to helpless when it came to saving Trent, and that was worse than anything.
Akito curled into a ball on the couch, the fan blowing hot air around the room, and stared out the window across the landscape of the ruined city. He seemed to hold his breath like he expected Trent to step back through that door and ease the tension that hung there since he’d been gone.
Cole did what he could, but he didn’t have Trent’s strength or his position to back him up. Akito might’ve done a better job of rallying the pack with his easy charisma, which Cole also didn’t have.
He never wanted to be a wolf—not after what happened with Sari. But Akito changed his mind. Believed in him. And Trent, well, Trent pissed him off until Cole couldn’t help but give in. He didn’t expect an alpha to ever trust him the way Trent had. Love him the way Trent had, and loving Trent back was even stranger.
He’d never seen those fellow wolves as a part of his pack until recently, and now he was the senior most beta, which meant he was in charge. Not the strongest, but the highest ranking one in the pack. And the only thing he could say was a promise that felt emptier by the day.
We’ll get Trent back.
But would they?
Over the first week, while Akito threw around ideas, Cole gathered as much information as he could without putting their pack in danger. Their numbers had grown after absorbing nearly all the other packs inside Neo-Tokyo, but that didn’t mean they were as strong as Boss Yagami’s wolves.
They weren’t, and that’s why they’d acted so carefully up until this point.
Boss Yagami’s pack was older and more experienced. They’d been ruling Neo-Tokyo since Cole could remember, and he hadn’t even been a wolf back then.
He’d only sent a few wolves into Chiyoda, himself included, since Cole didn’t want anyone taking a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He and Makiko sneaked around the edges of Boss Yagami’s stronghold to see if they could get any word on Trent’s condition.
They didn’t.
They couldn’t even see inside the old Imperial Palace from the bottom of the walls. The only thing they could do was count how many wolves made up Boss Yagami’s pack. Cole didn’t like the answer.
Their own pack wasn’t so bloated, even with Raj’s pack along for the fight.
And when Cole came back home, Akito was conversely pissed he hadn’t been able to come and annoyed Trent wasn’t back yet.
At least, that’s how Cole saw it.
The only thing that calmed Cole’s nerves was that Akito hadn’t tried to take off on his own and save Trent. He wasn’t a typical weak omega, he’d proven that time and again, but he was all Cole had left, and if he got captured too—Cole didn’t want to think about it.
But he would’ve preferred a little more fire in Akito’s eyes than was currently present.
The moping was worse than the pacing, by far.
Trent had been gone two weeks today, and they needed to do something either to get him back, or to take down Boss Yagami.
Preferably both.
“I have to go down and give another briefing,” Cole said, his voice quiet next to the hum of the fan and the ever-present buzz of cicadas outside.
Akito pinched his mouth into a frown. “Do you actually have a plan this time?”
Cole let out a breath. “If I did, you’d be the first to know. You should come down. We need our omega.”
Akito’s fists tightened on the pillow under his head, and Cole bit back the urge to tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself. That wasn’t Akito’s problem, and Cole knew it.
When the omega didn’t respond, Cole turned and left him there.
Their pack needed a leader.
What they had was Cole.
Makiko stood next to him in the lobby of their new headquarters, tucked far enough from Boss Yagami’s territory that it was reasonably safe. Not completely safe, because they all knew what that alpha was capable of after Minato, but it was the best they could do. If they wasted time moving again, who knew what might happen to Trent.
The rest of the pack hunched against the wall or whispered amongst themselves. As far as Cole could tell, they didn’t have any deserters, but then, these wolves had no place to go. This was the only pack they had, and since they’d pledged loyalty to Trent, they could follow him or die in the Wilds.
But that was the thing—they were loyal to Trent, not his beta.
Cole took a deep breath and glanced across the room. They hadn’t bothered with the lights since they all saw in the dim twilight just fine. It hid many of the faces Cole spent months memorizing. He’d organized them before for short attacks on other alphas, but always with Trent by his side.
Never like this.
Never alone.
Makiko cleared her throat. Nudged his shoulder. “What’s the plan for today?”
Cole scratched his head and wished the sweat didn’t run between his shoulder blades and soak into his shirt. How to get Trent back without all of us dying in the process. But he didn’t say that, because it wasn’t rousing or brave.
It’s what a beta said, not what an alpha would say.
Cole almost shrugged when he caught a hint of movement to the left of the room, and Akito’s scent touched his nose. Even with all the other wolves in that room, he could still sense his mate amongst them.
Akito didn’t approach. He tucked himself into a corner, arms hugging his sides, and his eyes shone bright in the shadows that surrounded him. It’d have been better if he stayed upstairs in their room and hadn’t come down to watch Cole fail at leading their pack. Prove how much weaker than Trent he really was.
“I don’t know how to get him back,” Cole said under his breath. “I’m just a beta.”
Makiko stood very still, then nodded so slightly it hardly looked like she’d moved at all. Her hair was held at the base of her neck in a low ponytail, much like the ones Trent and Akito wore, and she looked like the locals with dark slanted eyes and thick black hair. She always dressed like a human, in loose threadbare dresses that didn’t intimidate like the normal dark suits the wolves wore. It also looked a hell of a lot cooler, which helped in the oppressive humidity that hung around the room. “It’s not just your alpha who’s in there. It’s our alpha, and we’ll all do whatever it takes to get him back. That’s why we’re here.”
Cole glanced at her. “And we could all die.”
What he really meant was Akito could die.
She nodded again. “We could, but we’ve come this far. Boss Yagami is weaker than he’s ever been. Do we try or give up?”
Maybe she should be the one coming up with the plan.
Cole looked at Akito again and cleared his throat. A few of the wolves glanced at him, and the rumbling of their various conversations dulled.
They gathered here once a day to discuss news and strategy, and so far they’d had very little in terms of both. Worse yet, Raj, Trent’s younger brother and the only alpha that worked with them instead of against them, hadn’t returned from his trip to gather his pack from their territory at the edge of the Wilds. Either he was bringing the rest of them to help, or they were fleeing from Boss Yagami’s wrath. Without word, Cole had no idea.
After how much Raj helped them, he hoped it was the former and not the latter.
Cole swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up straight. He wasn’t as tall as Trent, but he’d filled out since he got clean and ate regular meals. “Boss Yagami’s forces still patrol their border, but they haven’t invaded ours yet. They even fell back from Minato, and considering the mess they left there. . . . I’m not sure if they’ll be back. Facing them head on is going to get most of us killed, and I know that’s not what our alpha wanted.”
Across the room, Akito straightened.
Cole didn’t know if that was a sign of approval or not, but he didn’t want to be responsible for his pack mates lives if they couldn’t save Trent. “So we need a plan that will get us into the stronghold with little resistance. Unfortunately, Boss Yagami chose that place for a reason. It’s almost impossible to infiltrate without scaling the walls, and his wolves will notice that. We need a distraction. Something to divert their attention long enough to get in.”
The room rumbled as their pack mates mumbled to each other.
Cole sighed.
This is what always happened. They waited for him to come up with a plan without offering any of their own. He was just as much at a loss as they were, and they all had the same information.
“I’ll go,” Akito said and stepped forward. “I’ll offer to trade myself for Trent.”
The wolves parted and looked at their omega.
Cole squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge to stalk across the room and drag Akito upstairs. He would say something like that, because saving Trent was the first thing on his mind, not keeping himself alive. And it wasn’t even an omega thing. It was just an Akito thing.
Loyal to a fault.
“What does Boss Yagami want with Trent’s omega?” Makiko asked suddenly and stepped in front of Cole. “I might as well offer myself up. He’d take and kill any of us, but we all know our alpha doesn’t want that. And it won’t help him escape.”
Akito scowled and put his hands on his hips. He didn’t stalk any closer, and Cole put his hand on Makiko’s shoulder and squeezed.
“She’s partially right. But if either of us went in, he’d use it against Trent and you know it, Aki.”
“So we do nothing?” Akito growled, and his eyes widened.
It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but they’d had this argument in private. Not in front of the entire pack.
Cole scraped his hand through his pale hair and frowned. “No. But we do something that will work. Do you think he’d want us to throw away all the progress we made to rescue him? You’ve known him the longest. Tell me what you think he’d want?”
Akito opened his mouth then clamped it shut again. His shoulders slumped, and he broke contact with Cole’s gaze.
That couldn’t be good. Cole itched to approach. Yank Akito into a hug and kiss him until Akito forgave him, but doing that in front of their pack wasn’t the best idea. He fisted his hands and set his jaw instead.
“You’re right, but Trent also didn’t know what was best for him. He spent too much time worrying about us,” Akito grumbled.
Us could’ve meant the pack as a whole, and it did to a certain extent. But Cole knew it held another nuanced meaning that the rest of the wolves in the room probably sussed out as well.
His mates.
Trent worried too much about them. Enough that it drove him to distraction in their first run in with Boss Yagami and ended with Trent’s capture.
“I know,” Cole said, his voice gruff. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. Frowned. “But we can’t change that now. The only thing we can do is make sure any plan we come up with is a good one. Good enough to give us odds of survival better than zero.”
Akito didn’t have a reply to that, and a few other wolves stepped forward to share what they’d heard in the last day regarding Boss Yagami’s movements around Chiyoda. Nothing much had changed, and Cole nodded and wished he could do more.
But what?
Storm in and get everyone killed?
That wouldn’t help Neo-Tokyo.
And no matter how badly he wanted Trent back, the cost of getting him back couldn’t be that high or the alpha would hate it.
The pack drifted apart after that, off to do their own surveillance and to patrol their own borders. Cole would’ve joined them, but leaving Akito like that was never a good idea.
He headed upstairs instead, following Akito’s musk through the worn hallways and onto the roof.
The sky above Neo-Tokyo was a bright blue, the same color as Cole’s eyes, and the far off clouds in the distance promised no respite from the heat. He swiped his brow, slick with sweat, and stepped into their apartment.
A fan buzzed in the corner of the room, and Akito stood over a pitcher of water. He poured two glasses and ripped off his shirt, yanking it over his head and mussing his dark hair.
It hung to his shoulders, a thick black curtain, and his eyes flashed. “He could be dead for all we know.”
Cole kicked off his shoes before he came in, as was custom, and peeled off his jacket. Wearing it seemed like little more than a useless ceremony, but he put it on in the morning nonetheless. He undid his shirt too. Took the water and drained it before he said anything.
“He’s not. Boss Yagami wouldn’t keep that to himself.”
Akito pinched his eyes shut. “Being a wolf was supposed to keep me from being useless. I’m supposed to be able to help and instead—”
“I know,” Cole said and kissed Akito’s brow.
He didn’t pull away, which was a good sign. “I’m going to go crazy if I have to sit around here and wait any longer. We can’t wait for Yagami to make a move, you know. It might cost the pack—might cost us, but we have to do something.”
Cole bit his bottom lip.
Denying Akito what he wanted was never wise. It prompted the omega to do things. Usually dangerous things. “I know, but I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone, and it’s not easy. I’m no alpha. I’m hardly a fucking beta. And I can’t lose you too, okay? You might love him more than you love me, but we’re all mates. I want Trent back as much as you do.”
“What?” Akito breathed and his head snapped up, eyes wide. The irises were dark, but since he’d been turned into a wolf they were lined with amber. It glowed now. “You think I love Trent more than I love you?”
His shirt stuck to the sweat on his back, and Cole slipped it off. Crumpled the material in his fist and fought not to frown. He lost that battle quickly. “I don’t think. I know, Aki. And I don’t. . . it doesn’t matter because I know you do love me. And I love you, but without him—”
“He’s our alpha! Of course I care. And I don’t love him more and you less. That’s stupid! I love you both. I’d be this crazy if you were somewhere out there, and I couldn’t get to you. If Boss Yagami had you instead of him—shit! You have no fucking clue how sick I’d be. Don’t you want him back?”
Cole’s grip on the shirt tightened. “Of course I want him back. You don’t think that’s what I’ve been trying to do? You’ve come with us on scouting missions. You know what we’re up against. How do you think he’d feel if you died? How do you think I would feel?”
Akito sipped his water and set the glass down harder than necessary. It was amazing he hadn’t broken it with his newfound wolf strength. “Like I would if anything happened to either of you. Like you felt when I disappeared. I just—I want him back!” he cried and threw his arms into the air.
Cole stared at him, the helplessness seeping over him like it had that night. The only thing they could do was run. An alpha usually didn’t sacrifice him or herself for a lesser wolf, but Trent did because he was better than other alphas.
He’d proven that time and again.
“I do too. I can’t hold the pack together much longer. I’m not a leader,” Cole said carefully. The words coated his mouth like oil. Heavy and unpleasant.
Akito grabbed his hands and squeezed. “I don’t want him back because he’s our alpha. I want him back because he’s our mate. You’re doing fine. Nobody else knows what to do either.”
Cole snorted. Raj might know what to do, but Raj wasn’t there. “Trent would.”
Akito raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t always. He spent ages looking for the right beta. And after Minato his conquests slowed. You’re right. He was worried about everyone’s safety. The whole pack. He didn’t want any of us to end up dead.”
“He was most worried about you,” Cole said and pulled Akito against his chest. It was too sticky to hug like that. Too hot and oppressive, even with that fan blowing warm air across them, but letting go of Akito seemed like the most impossible thing in the world at that moment.
Akito’s fingers dug into Cole’s back, clinging to him. “I was worried about both of you. Love him more? Why would you think that?”
Cole shrugged. “You knew him longer.”
“I knew you first,” Akito countered and pressed his mouth into Cole’s shoulder.
Akito was shorter and slighter than Cole, being an omega, but he’d put on a layer of tight muscle since he’d been bitten and started training to fight with the best of them. His chest was still slender but defined, and his biceps tightened as he pulled Cole as close as he could get.
“You usually take his side,” Cole said, which sounded silly after it left his mouth.
Akito shook his head. “Do not. I take his side when he’s right. He wasn’t right about not changing me, and you knew it. You took his side then.”
“I took your side, but not in front of the pack,” Cole said and sucked in Akito’s scent.
“We have something different, it’s not about more or less. We both know what it’s like in the pens. What it’s like to be human, and you won’t forget. You won’t let me forget, and Trent can’t ever know what it feels like.”
Cole’s jaw tensed, and he nodded. Trent was suffering out there, and they needed to think of a way to save him, yet he couldn’t pull himself out of Akito’s hold if he tried.
“We’ll get him back,” Cole said, for what had to be the thousandth time.
Akito nodded and leaned up. His mouth trembled as he pressed it into Cole’s, and the beta understood his hesitation. They hadn’t kissed much since they left Trent behind. Hadn’t touched more than brisk hugs and pats on the shoulder. Without their alpha, a piece of them was missing, and if they gave in to this it felt like they were getting on without him. Giving up on him. When that wasn’t the case.
Not at all.
Cole wouldn’t do that until he was dead, and he knew Akito felt the same.
His lips melted into Akito’s kiss, and his grip tightened on Akito’s hips, pressing into him. The brush of Akito’s tongue sent a rush of heat down his spine and rocketed to his cock.
His body, slick with sweat, focused on nothing else but the omega before him. How close they were to losing each other. Their big move against Boss Yagami could be the end for them all, and if that was the case, they both needed this.
Something to remember before that happened—remember why they were fighting so hard for this.
For each other.
Akito groaned, grinding his groin against Cole’s, his length hardening.
They didn’t need words now. They never did in moments like this.
Cole reached between them, undid the front of Akito’s pants and slipped them down. Akito muttered something and returned the favor, freeing Cole’s cock and wrapping his spit slick palm around it.
“We have oil,” Cole grunted.
“Don’t care,” Akito breathed against his lips and kissed him again.
The heat of that mouth—that hand, engulfed him, and Cole’s body gave in to it.
His thumb encircled the tip of Akito’s shaft, wet and ready, and slicked it over the length. Akito pumped into the touch, his leg wrapping around Cole’s hip to bring them closer.
Press their flesh together and—
Cole moaned.
Stroked them both harder.
Faster.
For the first time in nearly two agonizing weeks, something else mattered.
All the pent up energy needed somewhere to go, and this was the perfect place.
With Akito.
Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?
When they got Trent back. . . .
Cole’s mouth trailed over Akito’s jaw, lined with stubble, and down his long neck. It caressed his coarse hair and lapped at the salty flesh, catching Akito’s earlobe in his teeth.
Akito hissed. Squeezed Cole’s ass and moaned again—the sound rich and far too fleeting. It wasn’t his typical moan, the one without any abandon, but Cole didn’t expect that. Not now. The sound sunk into his skin and surged through him, charged with electricity.
Akito bit his shoulder, suckling at the flesh until Cole hissed. Like Akito was trying to keep his mind from thinking of anything but this.
Anything but the future.
The lust coiled in his gut, his groin, rolling with every sweep of his palm. The friction built with each thrust, misplaced and badly timed, but none of that mattered.
That mouth on his collarbone mattered. And the sounds Akito made, pleading and desperate and close to a sob, mattered.
Saving Trent mattered.
The orgasm sneaked up on him, on them both. The sticky mess leaked over their hands, and Akito panted against him, sweaty and reeking of musk and sex and everything Cole loved about him.
He wasn’t surprised when Akito pressed his face into Cole’s shoulder, his cheeks damp, chest heaving and heart racing.
Cole gripped onto his omega, eyes stinging, and kissed his mussed hair.
“We’ll get him back.”
“How?” Akito asked.
Cole chewed his bottom lip, letting the mess drip between them. Back with the rest of the pack, Akito offered to turn himself in to Boss Yagami. That sort of trade would never work—they both knew it.
But. . . . but maybe there was someone who Boss Yagami would trade for Trent.
Someone that bastard wanted to hurt more than their alpha.
It was a long shot, but what other choice did they have?
“I have an idea, but I don’t think Raj will like it,” Cole said.
April 18, 2016
Manuscript Monday: The Alpha Comes Home
More from Trent, the last Alpha's Reign book! I'm slowly editing it because I've been busy moving and going on a short trip (that feels a whole lot longer than it is). It is almost ready and it's up for pre-order on Amazon right now.
Also, I guess Gravitation is my theme for this book, so here's some more Yuki and Shuichi. ^_^
Here's the sneak peek. I guess it has spoilers, but we all know I'm not gonna kill Trent, right? Obvs.
Note: this is still being edited so it might have typos and what not. Enjoy!
Cole didn’t remember drifting off, but when he woke he found a pair of golden eyes watching him. His heart jumped, and he licked his lips. “You—”Trent nodded and put a finger on Cole’s lip. He nodded toward the hallway, and Cole climbed out of bed. Akito needed his rest, and even if their alpha had been gone all this time, he probably saw it too.Trent limped after him into the kitchen (after a brief stop in the bathroom), and slumped into a stool. Cole pulled out the food before he thought to ask. Of course their alpha was hungry. And Trent didn’t look in any shape to cook for himself. “We missed you. I missed you. Akito nearly went crazy missing you,” he said and put the leftover pork from that morning in the pan. Trent reached for the bottle of sake and pulled out a cigarette from the half full pack on the counter. “And why didn’t you nearly go crazy?” A match flared and lit the end. The scent of tobacco filled Cole’s nose. “I was trying to run our pack and find you.”“And handle Aki?” Trent asked and sucked on the cigarette. Cole nodded. “I’m surprised he didn’t run off on his own to find you. I was afraid he would and Boss Yagami would catch him too.”Trent took a swig of sake straight from the bottle and flinched, either at the taste or his wounds, Cole wasn’t sure which. “But he didn’t. He wouldn’t with you here. You ground him, Cole. You ground both of us.”He slid the bottle across the counter, and Cole felt his ears heat as he took a sip. The alcohol burned his tongue. It’d been a long time since he had a drink, and he’d always been afraid that it would remind him of the old days when he did nothing but drink and take X until he passed out. This didn’t. Cole turned the meat. “And you both gave me something to live for.”Trent’s lips quirked into a pained smile, not his usual smirk, and he licked his lips. “Good. We won.”Cole nodded. “We did. You did.”The alpha shook his head and took another long drag. The smoke curled toward the ceiling and circled around the lamp that hung there, the exposed bulb flickered. “We all did. I don’t even fully understand what your plan was, but it worked.”Cole dished the grilled pork onto a plate and slid it to his mate. Trent sucked in a breath and took a bite. He hadn’t said anything about the last two weeks—what he’d done in captivity, but he was thinner than Cole had ever seen him. And that beard on his cheeks was thick and patchy as Cole’s own. “What happened in there?”Trent chewed slowly, and Cole handed him a glass of water. “Not much. He tried to break me, but it didn’t work. Then you all arrived.”That couldn’t be the whole truth, but Cole bit his lip and nodded. If his alpha didn’t want to talk about it—“That’s not good enough. Not now. Did you want us to save you or not?”Trent stopped and rubbed his cheeks. “Why would you think that?”“Raj.”Trent nodded and went back to eating. He didn’t say another word until he’d finished the last bite, but Cole wasn’t going to force him to speak. He wasn’t Akito. He did, however, slink around the counter and lean gently against Trent’s back. In the distance, the sun rose, lighting up the sky with orange and pink, and it was still too hot to touch like that. Cole didn’t care. His mate was home.
Also, I guess Gravitation is my theme for this book, so here's some more Yuki and Shuichi. ^_^
Here's the sneak peek. I guess it has spoilers, but we all know I'm not gonna kill Trent, right? Obvs.
Note: this is still being edited so it might have typos and what not. Enjoy!
Cole didn’t remember drifting off, but when he woke he found a pair of golden eyes watching him. His heart jumped, and he licked his lips. “You—”Trent nodded and put a finger on Cole’s lip. He nodded toward the hallway, and Cole climbed out of bed. Akito needed his rest, and even if their alpha had been gone all this time, he probably saw it too.Trent limped after him into the kitchen (after a brief stop in the bathroom), and slumped into a stool. Cole pulled out the food before he thought to ask. Of course their alpha was hungry. And Trent didn’t look in any shape to cook for himself. “We missed you. I missed you. Akito nearly went crazy missing you,” he said and put the leftover pork from that morning in the pan. Trent reached for the bottle of sake and pulled out a cigarette from the half full pack on the counter. “And why didn’t you nearly go crazy?” A match flared and lit the end. The scent of tobacco filled Cole’s nose. “I was trying to run our pack and find you.”“And handle Aki?” Trent asked and sucked on the cigarette. Cole nodded. “I’m surprised he didn’t run off on his own to find you. I was afraid he would and Boss Yagami would catch him too.”Trent took a swig of sake straight from the bottle and flinched, either at the taste or his wounds, Cole wasn’t sure which. “But he didn’t. He wouldn’t with you here. You ground him, Cole. You ground both of us.”He slid the bottle across the counter, and Cole felt his ears heat as he took a sip. The alcohol burned his tongue. It’d been a long time since he had a drink, and he’d always been afraid that it would remind him of the old days when he did nothing but drink and take X until he passed out. This didn’t. Cole turned the meat. “And you both gave me something to live for.”Trent’s lips quirked into a pained smile, not his usual smirk, and he licked his lips. “Good. We won.”Cole nodded. “We did. You did.”The alpha shook his head and took another long drag. The smoke curled toward the ceiling and circled around the lamp that hung there, the exposed bulb flickered. “We all did. I don’t even fully understand what your plan was, but it worked.”Cole dished the grilled pork onto a plate and slid it to his mate. Trent sucked in a breath and took a bite. He hadn’t said anything about the last two weeks—what he’d done in captivity, but he was thinner than Cole had ever seen him. And that beard on his cheeks was thick and patchy as Cole’s own. “What happened in there?”Trent chewed slowly, and Cole handed him a glass of water. “Not much. He tried to break me, but it didn’t work. Then you all arrived.”That couldn’t be the whole truth, but Cole bit his lip and nodded. If his alpha didn’t want to talk about it—“That’s not good enough. Not now. Did you want us to save you or not?”Trent stopped and rubbed his cheeks. “Why would you think that?”“Raj.”Trent nodded and went back to eating. He didn’t say another word until he’d finished the last bite, but Cole wasn’t going to force him to speak. He wasn’t Akito. He did, however, slink around the counter and lean gently against Trent’s back. In the distance, the sun rose, lighting up the sky with orange and pink, and it was still too hot to touch like that. Cole didn’t care. His mate was home.
April 11, 2016
Manuscript Monday: Beta and Omega Feels Galore!
It's finally time for another MS Monday. Yay!
I'm ever so slowly heading south, where actual spring weather exists, and working on editing Trent while writing Titan Unleashed. My work never ends. Literally. I'll be writing stories as a zombie. They'll be about brains and probably hot gay zombie lovin'.
Also, have I ever mentioned how much I love Gravitation? The anime more so than the manga. So good! I think it was my first sip of the shonen ai Kool Aid. I mean, I'd been reading Gundam Wing slash for years, but then my friend lent me her copy of Gravitation (she thought I wouldn't like it!), and I fell in love. Give it a try if you haven't already. ^_^
Here's a snippet from Trent. Cole and Akito are worried about their alpha and need to let off some steam.
Note: This is being edited and is bound to have typos.
Enjoy!
Cole stared at him, the helplessness seeping over him like it had that night. The only thing they could do was run. An alpha usually didn’t sacrifice him or herself for a lesser wolf, but Trent did because he wasn’t like other alphas. He’d proven that time and again. “I do too. I can’t hold the pack together much longer. I’m not a leader,” Cole said carefully, the words coated his mouth like oil. Heavy and unpleasant.Akito grabbed his hands and squeezed. “I don’t want him back because he’s our alpha. I want him back because he’s our mate. You’re doing fine. Nobody else knows what to do either.”Cole snorted. Raj might know what to do, but Raj wasn’t there. “Trent would.”Akito raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t always. He spent ages looking for the right beta. And after Minato his conquests slowed. You’re right. He was worried about everyone’s safety. The whole pack. He didn’t want any of us to end up dead.”“He was most worried about you,” Cole said and pulled Akito against his chest. It was too sticky to hug like that. Too hot and oppressive, even with that fan blowing warm air across them, but letting go of Akito seemed like the most impossible thing in the world at that moment. Akito’s fingers dug into Cole’s back, clinging to him. “I was worried about both of you. Love him more? Why would you think that?”Cole shrugged. “You knew him longer.”“I knew you first,” Akito countered and pressed his mouth into Cole’s shoulder. Akito was shorter and slighter than Cole, being an omega, but he’d put on a layer of tight muscle since he’d been bitten and started training to fight with the best of them. His chest was still slender but defined, and his biceps tightened as he pulled Cole as close as he could get. “You usually take his side,” Cole said, which sounded silly after it left his mouth. Akito shook his head. “Do not. I take his side when he’s right. He wasn’t right about not changing me and you knew it. You took his side then.”“I took your side, but not in front of the pack,” Cole said and sucked in Akito’s scent. “We have something different, it’s not about more or less. We both know what’s it’s like in the cages. What it’s like to be human, and you won’t forget. You won’t let me forget, and Trent can’t ever know what if feels like.”Cole’s jaw tensed, and he nodded. Trent was suffering out there, and they needed to think of a way to save him, yet he couldn’t pull himself out of Akito’s hold if he tried. “We’ll get him back,” Cole said, for what had to be the thousandth time. Akito nodded and leaned up. His mouth trembled as he pressed it into Cole’s, and the beta understood his hesitation. They hadn’t kissed much since they left Trent behind. Hadn’t touched more than brisk hugs and pats on the shoulder. Without their alpha, a piece of them was missing, and if they gave in to this, it felt like they were getting on without him. Giving up on him. When that wasn’t the case. Not at all. Cole wouldn’t do that until he was dead, and he knew Akito felt the same. Still, his lips melted into Akito’s kiss, and his grip tightened on Akito’s hips, grinding into him. The brush of Akito’s tongue sent a rush of heat down his spine and rocketing to his cock. His body, slick with sweat, focused on nothing else but the omega before him. How close they were to losing each other. Their big move against Boss Yagami could be the end for them all, and if that was the case, they both needed this. Something to remember before that happened—remember why they were fighting so hard for this. For each other.
I'm ever so slowly heading south, where actual spring weather exists, and working on editing Trent while writing Titan Unleashed. My work never ends. Literally. I'll be writing stories as a zombie. They'll be about brains and probably hot gay zombie lovin'.
Also, have I ever mentioned how much I love Gravitation? The anime more so than the manga. So good! I think it was my first sip of the shonen ai Kool Aid. I mean, I'd been reading Gundam Wing slash for years, but then my friend lent me her copy of Gravitation (she thought I wouldn't like it!), and I fell in love. Give it a try if you haven't already. ^_^
Here's a snippet from Trent. Cole and Akito are worried about their alpha and need to let off some steam.
Note: This is being edited and is bound to have typos.
Enjoy!
Cole stared at him, the helplessness seeping over him like it had that night. The only thing they could do was run. An alpha usually didn’t sacrifice him or herself for a lesser wolf, but Trent did because he wasn’t like other alphas. He’d proven that time and again. “I do too. I can’t hold the pack together much longer. I’m not a leader,” Cole said carefully, the words coated his mouth like oil. Heavy and unpleasant.Akito grabbed his hands and squeezed. “I don’t want him back because he’s our alpha. I want him back because he’s our mate. You’re doing fine. Nobody else knows what to do either.”Cole snorted. Raj might know what to do, but Raj wasn’t there. “Trent would.”Akito raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t always. He spent ages looking for the right beta. And after Minato his conquests slowed. You’re right. He was worried about everyone’s safety. The whole pack. He didn’t want any of us to end up dead.”“He was most worried about you,” Cole said and pulled Akito against his chest. It was too sticky to hug like that. Too hot and oppressive, even with that fan blowing warm air across them, but letting go of Akito seemed like the most impossible thing in the world at that moment. Akito’s fingers dug into Cole’s back, clinging to him. “I was worried about both of you. Love him more? Why would you think that?”Cole shrugged. “You knew him longer.”“I knew you first,” Akito countered and pressed his mouth into Cole’s shoulder. Akito was shorter and slighter than Cole, being an omega, but he’d put on a layer of tight muscle since he’d been bitten and started training to fight with the best of them. His chest was still slender but defined, and his biceps tightened as he pulled Cole as close as he could get. “You usually take his side,” Cole said, which sounded silly after it left his mouth. Akito shook his head. “Do not. I take his side when he’s right. He wasn’t right about not changing me and you knew it. You took his side then.”“I took your side, but not in front of the pack,” Cole said and sucked in Akito’s scent. “We have something different, it’s not about more or less. We both know what’s it’s like in the cages. What it’s like to be human, and you won’t forget. You won’t let me forget, and Trent can’t ever know what if feels like.”Cole’s jaw tensed, and he nodded. Trent was suffering out there, and they needed to think of a way to save him, yet he couldn’t pull himself out of Akito’s hold if he tried. “We’ll get him back,” Cole said, for what had to be the thousandth time. Akito nodded and leaned up. His mouth trembled as he pressed it into Cole’s, and the beta understood his hesitation. They hadn’t kissed much since they left Trent behind. Hadn’t touched more than brisk hugs and pats on the shoulder. Without their alpha, a piece of them was missing, and if they gave in to this, it felt like they were getting on without him. Giving up on him. When that wasn’t the case. Not at all. Cole wouldn’t do that until he was dead, and he knew Akito felt the same. Still, his lips melted into Akito’s kiss, and his grip tightened on Akito’s hips, grinding into him. The brush of Akito’s tongue sent a rush of heat down his spine and rocketing to his cock. His body, slick with sweat, focused on nothing else but the omega before him. How close they were to losing each other. Their big move against Boss Yagami could be the end for them all, and if that was the case, they both needed this. Something to remember before that happened—remember why they were fighting so hard for this. For each other.
