Sneak Peek at Logan!

Only 3 more days till Logan, the first of the Dad Bod Doms collection releases!! I am SO excited. Not just because I put my hubby on the cover - although that continues to tickle me - but because I finally got to explore the "after" the happily-ever-after.



What happens to a kinky relationship AFTER the wedding and a couple of kids?

What happens to the hero AFTER he loses his 6-pack abs? What happens to the heroine AFTER childbirth changes her body?

That's what Raisa, Maren, Shane and I wanted to explore with this collection and we've done it with four different books, exploring four very different couples and situations, and having fun with four differents kinds of kink... but it all starts with four friends:

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Prologue

Six feet tall, broad shoulders, trim waist, abs of steel...

Logan remembered when he looked like that. He looked down at his own body. The abs of steel might still be there technically, but they were covered by a thick layer of flesh now, the muscle definition was long gone. His pectorals were more like man boobs, and even his arms and legs had lost their definition.

“When did I get so old?” he asked aloud, looking back at the group of young men goofing off in the roped-off swimming area of the lake. Though it was September, it still felt like summer, only slightly less humid than August. The young men, who looked to be in their early twenties, splashed and wrestled. Four of them were playing chicken, the same way he'd done years ago with his three best friends.

“We're not old, we're just well-aged,” Faris said quietly, slapping him on the shoulder. He was also looking at the group of young men. It was kind of hard not to since their campsite was just above the lake's beach. The nostalgic expression on his face said he also remembered their days of playing chicken. Now, there was no way anyone was getting on anyone else's shoulders, even in the water. Logan's back ached just thinking about it. “Like fine wine.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ray Stewart grumbled behind them. Rather than watch the beachgoers, he was sitting next to the fire pit, feet propped up on a stump, watching a video on his phone. “I feel more like lumpy cheese.”

On the other side of Faris, Henry just grunted. He tended to be the most taciturn of the four of them. They'd all been friends since their twenties after meeting at a BDSM munch. Since then, their camping trips had become a yearly tradition at this campground.

They knew the trails like the back of their hands—not that they hiked them much anymore—and had spent so much time in the lake, Logan was surprised they hadn't turned into fish. The water was still warm from the summer's heat, and the sandy beach was well maintained. They still spent plenty of time in the lake, though they didn't run around anymore. They floated on inner tubes or lazily stroked across the deeper portion of the swimming area. Logan was the youngest of the four of them, although this year, he felt old, so he could only imagine how the rest of them felt.

“Maybe if you ate less cheese, you'd feel less lumpy,” Faris teased, turning back to join Ray at the campfire. “Didn't your doctor say something about your cholesterol?”

“Oh God.” Head flopping back on his shoulders, phone flopping just as dramatically into his lap, Ray groaned. “Not you, too…”

Chuckling, Logan turned to join his other two friends, Henry following him. They each grabbed a beer before sitting down.

“To another year, gentlemen.” Ray raised his bottle, and they all leaned forward to clink before taking a long drink.

“So,” Logan said after a moment. “How’s everyone doing?”

They all avoided his gaze, looking at their drinks or the surrounding trees. Logan really didn’t want to be the first to talk either, but he had been hoping someone else would have some good news to share this year.

“Well,” he sighed. “Don’t everybody speak at once. Are we just going to keep talking about Ray’s high cholesterol?”

Ray looked down at his stomach, which was admittedly the biggest out of their group, and Logan immediately felt like a piece of shit, but before he could apologize, Ray was already talking.

“Why not? It feels like that’s all I talk about lately. No fat, no meat, no flavor, or substance… exercise… I feel like I’m back in the Army.” Looking down at his rounded belly, Ray took hold of his stomach with both hands, regarding it silently for a moment. “Truth be told, maybe I ought to do something about this. I took Ally shopping the other day. I remember when guys used to look at her and see that look on their face. You know, that look. The one that says, ‘I’d love to tap that ass.’ Then they’d look at me, and they’d immediately walk the other way. I used to be big, buff. Strong enough to wipe the floor with anyone who stepped out of line.”

He gave his stomach a jiggle, then let go of it. “Now, I’m just big. They still look at Ally, though. They still get that ‘I’d love to tap that’ look, only now when they look at me, they don’t walk the other way anymore. They just give me this smirk like… I don’t know, ‘Wanna watch?’”

Faris laughed, noticing the pointed look Ray gave him. “She’s not looking back, man.” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve met your wife. She’s only got eyes for one guy.”

“Yeah,” Ray scoffed, “but I’m not exactly that guy anymore. And I’ve got to say, things have slowed down in the bedroom.”

“Felicity likes my chub,” Logan said, running a hand over his stomach. He missed being able to feel his own abs, but he had to admit, Felicity had a point about how much cuddlier he was. “She says dad bod is sexy.”

Not that they'd had much sex lately. It had been hard enough after their first child was born, even though Oliver had been a pretty easy baby. Adding the second had made things even harder. Oliver was five, Althea three, and it had been at least a month since he and Felicity had sex. Hmm. Maybe more like two or three months. How had that happened?

“I wish Ally felt that way,” Ray said, a little morosely.

“Well, it's nice to know I'm not the only one,” Logan admitted. “Felicity says she finds it sexy, but it's actually been months since we've done more than talk dirty. She's never in the mood anymore, not even for vanilla stuff.”

“Maybe she's not in the mood for vanilla because she wants something kinky.” Ray waggled eyebrows suggestively.

“I think she's just tired. I know I am. The kids are a handful. It's just easier to roll into bed and fall asleep. We just... got out of the habit. I haven't been any better. I used to take a lot of time planning our scenes, thinking about what I wanted to do to her. I haven't done that since before Althea was born. But that doesn't mean I can't put in the effort now.” Logan ran his free hand through his hair. Even the last scene he'd planned for them had been a little rushed, both of them more attuned to the baby monitor than to each other.

“I know how that is,” Faris said. Ray shot him another glance, and Faris’ mouth pulled into a grim line as he gave the other man a barely perceptible nod. “Leyla and I are no more immune than the rest of you to what we all seem to be going through. Kids, careers, getting older, finding time.” Faris took a pull at his beer, then pointed the neck toward Ray.

“You joke about being ‘kinky.’ You tell me. Any of you. When’s the last time you went to a munch? Or a meet-up? Or a club? Or did anything even remotely ‘kinky?’ You want the kinds of things we did back when we were those punks’ age?” He stabbed the bottle out toward where the young men still cavorted at the lake’s edge. “You have to plan them like the goddamn Normandy invasion. Babysitters and breastmilk in the fridge, and it’s gotta be someplace close by because, dear God, if the sitter calls because the baby sneezed, we’re fucking piling in the car to head home ASAP. Just like Logan said. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but you get yanked out of a scene a couple of times because Mom called, and it feels like the baby’s running a fever, or Leyla has ‘a bad feeling,’ and…” Faris took a long swig of his beer. “Yeah. Seems like the effort just isn’t worth the results after a while, and that gets really fucking frustrating, you know?”

“Your situation is a bit different,” Ray muttered under his breath.

“Is it, Ray? Is it?”

The man looked up at Faris, saying nothing.
“And even if it is, it changes nothing. What Leyla and I have now isn’t what we had when I first met her. When I fell in love with her. And we’re trying to adapt. Trying to find a balance.” Faris took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “But what if it’s not working? What if it just feels like it’s all falling apart?”

Ray had remained quiet, staring at the man during his speech. Now that Faris had stopped, he spoke up, his voice a flat, low rumble of warning. “You were a company commander and a goddamn engineer. You fix it.”

“Yeah? Yeah, Ray? I wish it were that fucking easy.”

For several long, uncomfortable seconds, the two men stared at each other, eyes locked. The sounds of the young men playing down at the lake—a scream of laughter followed by a splash—were all that could be heard. Finally, Faris sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just… things were so good. And now they aren’t. And I love Leyla so goddamn much. I just want that back.” Faris looked at the bottle in his hand as if noticing it for the first time. “And it’s pretty fucking obvious what a lightweight I’ve become.” He gazed at the beer for a second longer before draining the last of it.

They all looked at Henry, who grunted.

“Come on, man,” Ray said, waving his beer. “Either fess up and share the misery or tell us your secret, so we can use it to fix our relationships.”

Looking away from his friends, Henry chugged his beer and tossed the bottle into the pile of glass he was building.

“Natalie is… she’s good, I guess. Still as beautiful as the day I married her. She’s not complaining, but maybe…” He grunted again and hauled himself out of the lawn chair for another beer. “Yeah. We never did manage to have a baby together, and we’re both busy with work.” He looked away, then added, “When we retire, we’ll figure something out. Maybe we’ll do a club or something to put the spark back in.” Lifting his bottle, he took a sip. “Scheduling sex around fertility treatments isn’t the best way to plan a scene.”

“So, I guess the real question is, what do we do about this?” Logan asked, sighing.
How did it come to this? He'd stood up for each of his friends at their weddings, just as they had for his. He could tell they were still in love with their wives, just as he was with his. So, where had they all gone wrong? It couldn't just be getting older. He knew that wasn’t all it was with him and Felicity.

Somewhere along the way, the spark, the excitement had flittered away. The connection between them had thinned. They didn’t talk the way they used to. Didn’t spend time together the way they used to. And they sure as hell didn’t have sex the way they used to.

“I'm going to join a gym,” Ray said suddenly.

“How is that going to fix your sex life?” Faris asked dubiously. “You think Ally will love you more if you lose some weight?”

“No, but I'll feel better about myself.” Ray glanced at his flab again, giving his stomach a rueful rub, then a pat. “I don't feel very good about myself right now. I’m pretty sure it’s starting to bleed over into other areas.”

If he didn't feel good about himself, he wouldn’t be the confident Dom, Logan knew he could be.

Ray looked over at Faris pointedly. The man met his gaze, and Ray waited patiently.

“Fuck, Ray,” Faris threw up his hands. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He reached toward the cooler, stopped for a second, then grabbed another beer. Twisting the top off, he took a drink, then wiped his hand across his mouth. “Like you said, my situation is unique.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t fix it.”

“Yeah. Maybe so. But it’s going to take more than just me.”

Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Then you find the people you need to help you do it. No different than building a bridge.”

Faris sat, bottle in hand, a war of thoughts playing out across his face.

“It’s a helluva complicated fucking bridge.”

“You built an incredible one the first time. Just do it again.”

“Jesus, Bueller,” Logan said, using the nickname Faris had been pinned with from Day One. He shook his head. “All this sounds like a lot of weird military code or some shit.” Logan glanced between the two men, raising his eyebrows in question. Unlike the two of them, he hadn’t served, and it felt like he was missing out on part of the conversation.

“It is… and it isn’t.” Ray took a sip from his own beer, his eyes never leaving Faris.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” Faris said after a moment's pause.

“Good man.” Ray nodded in approval, despite the terse reply.

Logan and Henry shot each other a look, but Henry just shrugged. Sometimes, they were left out of things because of Ray and Faris’ past together, but they’d come to accept that. Rather than pushing Faris further, Logan just focused on the problem at hand and possible solutions.

“I don't know what I'm going to do,” Logan said slowly, “but I'm going to do something. Maybe Felicity and I can go check out the local scene. It's been months since we've been to a munch, much less a club.” He looked around at his friends. “It doesn't matter that we aren't as young as we used to be or as in shape as we used to be, we're still as in love as we used to be. We can still be the Doms we used to be. We just need to tap into that part of ourselves again.”

“Hear, hear,” Faris said, raising his beer in salute. “To the Dad Bod Doms.”

They all stared at him, then burst into laughter, even Henry.

Logan laughed so hard, tears actually sparked in the back of his eyes. Pushing the smile away, Logan assumed a solemn expression and raised his beer as well.

“To the Dad Bod Doms.”

Still grinning, Ray and Henry lifted theirs, and they all leaned forward to clink the necks of their bottles together.

“This time next year, we're going to be here, telling each other how we fixed our marriages and celebrating our success,” Logan said, more serious now. “Agreed?”

“Agreed!”

Logan