Like so many — too many — people, I succumbed to depression and isolation in , doing just enough to get by although, I have to say, working from home every day for the EDJ was a perk. Well, that was kind of obvious from the start, but I mean the book is out. The extended remix of Hell is available now through Amazon and through Kindle Unlimited. OK, not much of a pre-order span but still. Order now and get it on Feb 1st. Pre-order now Amazon as an ebook.
Heaven Sent gets a hell of new keyboardist with a name to match. Heller Witting is an amazing musician and proves to be key to a sound that the band was missing. With lavender hair and big violet eyes, he captivates Brent Rose from the start, and not just with his music. Brent knows better than to get involved with a member of the band.
That just invites trouble and the last thing he wants is trouble for Heaven Sent. When Hell makes his interest in Brent all too obvious, Brent is unprepared and unable to stay away. Fine, if they just keep it at sex, everything will be all right.
They were going to do this now? He patted his pocket for his pack of smokes. If he stalled, hopefully Hell would give up and head on up to his room alone.
Then I need a mild edit to make sure that the grammar and punctuation are intact and it should be good to go! Aiming for the end of the month. It was busy work he didn't need to do, but he had to keep going, keep living without his prince.
He'd even tried going down that street every day at the same time, but his vision had not chosen to reappear. He wished he'd gotten to hear the man's voice. Surely it'd be as gorgeous as the rest of the tight little package. Did his dream work out? Hopefully he was a swimmer or a runner. Justin liked a lean build on a guy. Justin sighed again. Probably that banker again. He kept checking in on Justin despite the fact that he was all paid up. Frank thought the guy was sweet on Justin, and unfortunately, Justin agreed.
The banker, however, was nowhere near as cute as his dream man from the sidewalk. Resigned, he put the shirts back on the pile, smoothed his tight, brightly painted T-shirt, combed a hand through his hair, and stepped out front. Just For You 7. The squeal that erupted from his throat was supremely undignified, but he couldn't have quashed it if he tried.
His dream man had arrived! And looked all yummy in a purple pin-striped dress shirt and unrumpled khakis.
Completely disregarding Frank's laughter, Justin rushed forward and grabbed Prince Charming's hands, twined their fingers, and holding tight, brought all four hands up between them. He gazed into the loveliest face ever and disregarded the wary beginnings of fear that rounded those gorgeous dark eyes.
Caught between terror and amusement, the vision's thick dark brows crowded his hairline underneath coffee-colored bangs. Luckily, this time he found his voice. I-I'm Kevin. His vision spoke in a lovely tenor. I've been utterly incapable of naming you since I saw you.
I'm Justin. Oh wait, you know that. Justin Tolliver. You name it, it's done. Kevin stared uneasily at their hands, but Justin refused to let go. If it involves any sexual contact whatsoever, even more done. Kevin blinked, still gaping. He tugged at his hands. Kevin laughed. It was a nervous laugh, but it was a laugh. He even flushed a little, which was damn adorable. Happy to have made his Prince Charming smile, Justin beamed. He nodded.
What is this favor, my pretty? Kevin grimaced, taking a step backward. Now their hands, still interlocked, were suspended between them. Kevin laughed and firmly tugged, freeing his hands. He took another step back for good measure and bumped into one of the wire-frame mannequins.
Bereft of Kevin's touch, Justin leaned against a display case of men's jewelry, spreading one of his ringed hands on the glass top. But I warn you, if it involves anything illegal, I insist on being repaid with sex. Kevin's lovely brown eyes and intriguing plump lips both opened wide in shock. Then, to Justin's utter delight, he burst out in a full-belly laugh. Justin beamed. Kevin had a gorgeous, full laugh, bright as a child's. He was loosening up beautifully, losing his nervousness.
Justin knew the phenomenon that he was, and he used it well. Kevin recovered, but the mirth stayed in the curves at the corners of his lips. He glanced over at the cash register where Frank and Nancy were openly watching.
Justin waved at them. What can I do for you? Kevin bit his lip. He really was going to have to stop doing that, because it just made Justin want to nibble it for him. Also sounds like a date. Justin nodded. To Kevin, the pose seemed vaguely feminine, but Justin somehow managed to pull it off. Your supervisor is a queen bitch who won't let you get anywhere and keeps screwing up your projects, but she's the one with the access to the big boys, so they don't know she's the problem.
You need to get around her to them, and you can't do that at the office. So you need to get to the head honchos outside of the office. And these guys are gay. As your date. He suppressed a chuckle. Maybe ever. Justin was a riot, even with his constant flirting.
Kevin had outgoing friends, but Justin put them all to shame. He was outrageously funny and quite charming, not to mention gorgeous.
Two-toned blond hair that Kevin was pretty sure resulted from a stylist and not nature draped his neck and brushed just past his broad shoulders. Eyes that looked more like emeralds than any Kevin had ever seen were surrounded by long, dark brown lashes under arched—probably plucked—brows of the same color.
With chiseled facial features, including a long, straight nose and a strong, square chin, he could have been a model. Kevin may prefer women, but Justin was in a class of his own with an androgynous beauty that some men have. Justin sighed, setting what was left of the garlic bread on the side of his plate and picking up his fork to stir up his linguine. I don't socialize much with anyone at work anyway. Who cares if they think I'm gay?
Justin nodded thoughtfully. He raised a forkful of pasta to his mouth and grinned impishly. Kevin was proud that he only choked a little on his wine. He grinned as he wiped his mouth. He thought while he chewed. I'd rather have a guide. He looked up in time to see one corner of Justin's mouth curl. You seemed like the type. I've heard that they're pretty open about new ideas. I just need to get close to them and mention some. But every time I've tried, Angela's there. Justin narrowed his eyes and pointed his empty fork at Kevin.
Maybe even kiss. Silverware clattered on plate as Justin dropped his fork and sat up straight. Amused, Kevin helped Justin dab at some of the sauce that had spattered the tablecloth. He was kind of amazed that the idea of kissing Justin didn't upset him. If he were honest, Justin's lips were quite intriguing. Never been attracted to a guy.
Present company didn't count, because thinking the man was gorgeous didn't equal being attracted. That meant he wasn't gay, right? Just that it's exclusively gay men. I heard about the problems they had with the women trying to get in a few months ago. Have you been there? As it happens, I do know this place. Kevin froze, fork halfway to his mouth. Ravioli dribbled off it as he stared in horror at Justin.
Did he mean…? Kevin had heard stories about the famous back rooms of gay clubs where men were having sex all over the place. Justin let him suffer for a full minute before bursting out laughing.
I'm joking. Unrepentant, he kept laughing as Kevin struggled to chew and swallow his food. You won't have to go up there if you don't want to. I'll protect you. Justin nodded, holding a hand palm out in surrender. I shall do my level best to keep you safe and your innocence intact.
No offense, but do you have the wardrobe for this? Kevin squirmed in his chair, surfing ravioli around his plate rather than look at Justin.
Not one like this. Justin got a pained look on his features. Leering, Justin tilted his head forward until his eyes were almost hidden behind his eyelashes.
That Kevin could believe. They ate for a moment in silence. Justin leaned back in his seat, dangling his wineglass between elegant fingers. Justin waved it off. It's true. I'm a slut. For attention, at least. And there will be lots of attention. Long fingers spread over Justin's heart in mock distress.
Kevin smiled. Kevin recognized the ploy now and just smiled. Justin set down his glass and leaned into the table, his voice hushed and his picture-perfect features lit by the candle between them.
Kevin's eyes went wide. To his amazement, he got a crystal clear image in his head of those beautiful lips wrapped around his dick. There was no doubt in his mind that Justin would excel at that particular task.
Quit it! Justin sighed heavily, letting his head hang forward. His loose, almost gold hair nearly draped his pasta. Nearly but not quite.
With another sigh, he drew himself up, pouting. And I get to dress you. And kiss you. Kevin contemplated it as he studied Justin's face. Should he worry that the idea actually kind of appealed? Justin squirmed like a puppy about to get a treat. Justin's banter filled most of the rest of the dinner, and he told Kevin what he'd heard about the club. Turned out he knew more than Kevin, which actually made Kevin feel better about the whole deal.
Justin really could be a good guide in this. Why he trusted this man he'd just met, he didn't know, but he did. Kevin was slightly alarmed when, as he was driving away from the restaurant, Justin insisted that he needed to get his hair cut.
You're gorgeous, don't get me wrong, but the curls must be controlled a bit. At me. For letting you out like that. No self-respecting boyfriend would let his squeeze look like this. Think about those men at work you're trying to impress. Is there one hair out of place on any of them? Even bears and leathermen have their own sense of style.
Kevin was torn between laughing and grumbling. He resisted the urge to reach up and pull at his bangs. Justin kept up the banter until they reached the curb before his apartment building. It was a rather dark and quiet.
A few people hung out in and around the minimall at the corner, but no one was out on this part of the street. In front of Justin's place, the only light was provided by windows and the lamp over the entrance. Justin stared at his building for a moment as Kevin put the car in park.
He pursed his lips a bit, then sighed softly. We don't have much time before Saturday. Kevin thought, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It was Wednesday now. He was of the opinion that they had plenty of time, but obviously he was wrong.
After work? Justin traced his upper lip with the pad of one finger. Kevin marveled at the shape of his lip. Like a girl's almost but…not. I think I know just the outfit right at the shop, and I can get Manny next door to stay late to do your hair. Justin laughed and reached out to pull his hand down. After I'm done with you, those men you've been trying to get to notice you will be fawning all over you. Kevin smiled, thankful that the dark of the car should hide the flush to his skin.
Some of his golden hair fell in his face, and he used his free hand to comb it back. In fact, we should probably keep our story to having met on Monday like we did. Justin scrunched up his nose.
A guy is much more of a sure thing, just so long as you cater to his needs. Amused, Kevin heaved a pale imitation of Justin's martyred sigh. Justin slapped his arm. Kevin leaned in, startled despite that he knew it was coming. Startled because the move was rather natural. That's not what I'm afraid of, Kevin thought as Justin's lips brushed his.
Once, twice, a third time lingering a breath longer. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the press of skin to skin. No different than kissing a girl. Except it was. He was hard-pressed to figure out how exactly, but it was. His other hand cupped Kevin's chin, his thumb pressing the point. Kevin did, and Justin's tongue slid in, smooth as butter. It found Kevin's and teased, coaxing it to wake up and play. When Kevin complied, Justin sighed and angled his head a little more to completely seal their lips.
It was a long, slow exploration, and it was Kevin who eventually pulled back. He was pretty sure Justin would've let it go on for much longer, which surprised him. He wouldn't have thought that a guy would linger over kissing. He never really had before, unless the girl seemed to like it.
Justin melted against the back of his seat, eyes closed, lashes fanned over his cheeks. His fingers fell lifeless from Kevin's hair, and his hand landed on Kevin's knee. His eyes opened halfway and focused on Kevin. Smiling, Kevin reached up to thumb moisture from his lips.
Justin pouted. Oh well. The car was still running. There was a hiss of fabric and a distinct humph that made Kevin look up from the monitor in front of him. Justin stood just inside the door to the back of the shop, articles of clothing in a multitude of colors dripping from his arms as he glared with attitude at Kevin. He heard a fit of feminine giggles from Nancy, where she was arranging a mannequin in the shop's front window. Approaching footsteps and the clack of plastic hangers indicated Justin put the pile of clothing on the round padded seat just outside the dressing rooms.
Justin held up two shirts, one shiny blue and one a bunch of different shades of green. Come try it on. Kevin gave him an arch look. Justin blinked. Nancy bounced to the counter, her crimson and black hair swaying around her little pixie face.
They'd asked him a few questions about weirdness with the shop computer, and he'd started to fiddle with it while Justin put together endless outfits for him to try on. She beamed at Justin, her silver bangles clanging around her slim wrists as she raised her fingers to fold them coyly by her cheek. Justin stroked her hair, wondering eyes on the monitor. From his frown and the position of his hand, Kevin decided Justin must have yanked her hair. Nancy backed away, her hand to her head as she pouted.
You just said he's straight. Kevin rolled his eyes, extracted his arm, and bent back over the keyboard. Kevin froze, eyes saucered and staring at her. Even if she weren't jailbait, she was almost ten years younger than he was. He'd never been attracted to younger women anyway. Justin laughed and pulled at his arm. Nancy grimaced, then smiled and flounced back to her disturbingly headless mannequin.
Kevin recovered as Justin hauled him toward the dressing room. Kevin dropped his hand from his too-short hair and grumbled as he got out of the car. He traded keys for ticket with the valet and walked around the rear of the vehicle to the curb. Justin met him there, calm and collected. Kevin pulled in a deep breath. He wasn't so sure. His shiny, blousy blue silk shirt was far more understated than Justin's green suede vest and skintight black pants.
Still, it was flashier than anything he'd ever worn. Truthfully, he didn't mind the shirt so much, but he hated the pants Justin had put him in. Not as tight as Justin's, they were far more formfitting than anything he'd ever worn outside of a swimming pool. He did like the boots, though.
They were kind of classy with pointed toes. Not something he would have picked out for himself, but they were cool. The inch-high heels were something he was still getting used to, though. Justin combed fingers through the longer hair over Kevin's eyes, and Kevin resisted reaching up to rub the fuzz everywhere but on top of his head. His hair had never been so short.
As a kid, his mother had always kept it chin length because she liked his curls, and he'd never really thought to cut it differently. His neck and ears felt naked. Justin's fingers slid down to cradle his cheek and angle his head for a kiss.
That kind of worried Kevin. Not the kiss itself, but the fact that he didn't mind. All through shopping over the last few days, Justin had kept touching and kissing him, insisting that he was just getting Kevin used to the attention. Well, Kevin was now far too used to it. Even kind of liked it. Quit it, he told himself. He put on a smile for Justin, who met it, then slid his hand down Kevin's arm to tangle their fingers together. Together, they walked toward the club. Kevin was profoundly relieved to see that Justin was correct about their clothing.
He'd been worried they were going too flashy. He needn't have. They were far from the most outlandish couple approaching the flared black columns that flanked the well-lit entrance to Beltane. They were surrounded by smart-looking male couples, some draped over each other and others holding hands.
Kevin's natural humor took over, and he smiled as he relaxed. They didn't stick out like sore thumbs after all. They blended perfectly. Justin hadn't steered him wrong. They joined one of two lines waiting to get in, this one marked for those with invitations.
The other line was much longer, filled with men who watched the entrance avidly and a few who argued with the bouncers who kept them behind the green velvet ropes. Justin shook his head and reached forward to tap the shoulder of a short, slim man in front of them. The man turned, revealing the face of an angel with lots of bright purple makeup. Just For You Is that shirt in your new line? Because it's to die for! The man in purple looked slightly irritated and wary at first, but a smile bloomed under Justin's flowering praise.
Although Kevin had never heard the name, he decided that Robert Nigel must be a fashion designer or something. Whose pattern is that, if you don't mind my asking? The little man with the long, shiny black hair turned to face them fully.
Justin flapped his hand, rolling his eyes. But no, I came into the game far too late. Kevin exchanged a smile with the purple-clad man's date as Robert and Justin began to chatter.
Just as they arrived at the front of the line, Robert pulled Justin away to one of the better-lit areas, the better to show off something about the shirt's geometric design. Robert's date, an attractive but rather normal-looking brunet with glasses, leaned in toward Kevin.
He held out his hand. I'm Lyle. Lyle handed his invitation to a suit-clad bouncer but turned to Kevin as it was inspected. Kevin ducked his head but laughed, falling into his role for the night. Lyle grinned, taking his invitation back and stepping aside for Kevin. Kevin handed his invitation to the bouncer. When he turned back, Lyle was looking at Robert and Justin, whose squeals could be heard from twenty feet away, even over the thumping music spilling from the door. Kevin studied Justin, watched the languid sway of his hips and the gleam of his light brown and golden hair as the pair approached.
Lyle and Kevin stepped toward the entrance and to the side and waited for the return of their dates. Kevin nodded, pulling his hand down when it reached up for the hair that was no longer at his nape. Lyle took his date's hand and kissed it. Kevin smiled up at Justin, playing his part to the hilt and kind of enjoying it. Justin blinked down at him, those green eyes searching his face. Putting on a grin, he leaned down to brush his lips with Kevin's. They walked into the room that seemed too small to contain the crowd within.
It wasn't a wide-open warehouse like Kevin had expected. It looked more like an upscale country club—complete with fireplaces and art on the walls—that just happened to acquire a rave party somewhere.
The disco ball and the strobe lights didn't go with the fake flames behind the fireplace grills nor the classy wood paneling on the walls, and the polished bulbs of frosted sconces provided too much ambient light for it to really feel like a dance hall. But no one seemed to mind.
Men filled the area, talking, drinking, and dancing. There were two bar areas Kevin could spot; both matched the country-club atmosphere with lots of good, solid wood and a mirrored wall of booze behind them. At least three wide openings led to other rooms, one showing a staircase.
Kevin made note of the avenue toward the upper reaches so he could avoid it. He and Justin stayed at a table by one of the fireplaces with their two new friends for a while. Kevin was amazed at the men who made sure to come by and speak to the designer. He'd have to satisfy his curiosity and ask Justin about him later. As for Justin, he seemed to be tickled pink to talk to the man. Kevin was happy to let him have the moment.
The night was young, and he was in no particular rush to hunt for his quarry, although he did keep an eye out for the men he was looking for. Eventually, however, Robby—as he preferred to be called—dragged Lyle onto the dance floor, taking his onlookers with him. Justin bounced in his chair and leaned over to lay an enthusiastic kiss on Kevin's cheek.
I'm having a great time! Everything I've always heard and more. Kevin had to smile at Justin's superspy excitement. Greg Hanson is the blond in the red over by the bar. Terry White is in that group playing poker, the bald black guy. And Victor Chen is the short Asian holding court over there. A photographer couldn't have positioned him more perfectly as a focus of attention.
Kevin wasn't sure what to make of the surge in his heart at the sound of appreciation in Justin's voice. He's more into running the company now. But the fact that he was a programmer—that they all were— makes it better to talk to them. He was featured in the Fortune five hundred a few years ago. Kevin couldn't blame him. Victor was, in a word, lovely, just like a porcelain doll.
Barely five feet two with a round, cherubic face, he looked more like a child than a chief executive officer. Kevin wasn't sure if he was Japanese or Chinese, but he was pretty sure it was one of those. His petite beauty bordered on feminine, and he moved with the poise of a dancer. No one ever pegged him as an egghead since he looked much more like a boy toy. Kevin sipped his own drink.
It's well-known that people who disregard him learn to regret it later. Kevin thought about it and couldn't quell his inner shiver. I think Greg Hanson or Terry White will be able to help me more. Kevin frowned, watching the man in white entice a partner to the dance floor. No, make that two partners, both of whom were clearly entranced. Justin studied him for a moment, then shrugged.
So, shall we go talk to Greg Hanson? Victor Chen was the one Kevin needed to impress. He'd had the feeling when Kevin first pointed him out, and the feeling was justified when they did finally start to talk to Greg Hanson. Justin sobbed dramatically, watching a fine ass in shapeless slacks retreat. Justin waved his hand and avoided a group of chatting businessmen. Kevin returned to his cubicle, still bemused by what had just happened.
By a guy, no less! Raoul got up from his chair in the next cubicle just as Kevin sat down. Some of his amusement died. The three people in the neighboring cubicles were all on their side and could be trusted, but beyond that was sketchy. Stacie pushed her chair close. Kevin shook his head. Kevin waved a hand in the air. He raised his brows, then shrugged, before disappearing around the corner into his own little space.
He stared at the second drawer of his metallic desk. Inside was the possible answer to their problems, but only if he had the balls to go through with it. No one else does. It was an invitation that a friend had given him to an exclusive party at a popular local club. Kevin was not into the clubbing scene, but it was a sure bet that at least two of the three men Kevin needed to talk to would be there.
The club was high-class and rumored to be the place. For homosexuals.
0コメント