Deviations: Submission

April 11, 2017 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #1
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, MM, Novel
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 338

Tobias Vincent is a big animal vet, and also skilled and seasoned Dom. City beat cop, and sub Noah desperately needs to find a man to help him work through a block but has yet to find someone who can take him where he needs to go.

Through a series of encounters in the world of bondage and discipline, Noah reveals why he has trouble trusting, and why he needs such a firm, steady hand. Tobias is confident he can help Noah, but he has trouble letting himself love. Still, Tobias can't resist Noah's charms, and the two of them set about making a scene for themselves, one that works for them and their unique set of challenges.

They learn to love, but how will they stay together while they explore each other’s secrets, in an environment where all is laid bare and emotions run high?

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Also in this series:

EXCERPT FROM SUBMISSION

There were many truths in this life, Tobias decided as he knotted his tie for the evening. Death comes to all, taxes must be paid, and fortieth birthdays were a reason for one's friends to buy nice wine, make lavish cakes, and throw dinner parties. Forty-first birthdays, on the other hand, went unremarked upon by all but one's nearest and dearest. As he had cards from a few friends and a message from Phan, he thought he'd just about exhausted the expected well wishes.

But turning forty-one did not mean he was dead or unable to make his own fun. He'd made his arrangements for the evening, planning with as much detail as he could—which, admittedly, wasn't much. He knew what to wear for his mood; he knew where he'd go and what he'd eat; he knew what he wanted. But there were an amazing number of variables at play, more than he usually allowed.

He was thinking about that as he straightened his dinner jacket and pocketed his keys. It was a highly planned evening of spontaneity that lay ahead of him, the novelty of which made him smile. Perhaps letting the fates blow once in a while was a good thing. In any case, he'd find out shortly; the worst he could do was have an evening of fine dining and a bottle of wine. The best would be far, far better, but it was rare to find exactly what he sought.

Tobias ran a comb through his hair one last time as he waited for his car, the light in the entry to his condo making the few stray silver hairs shine among the darker brown. Forty-one wasn't too old, he decided. It was a fine age to be, the height of his success and skill. He lacked for nothing, really.

Only someone to share his birthday with.

The phone rang and he pushed the thought away, startled to realize it wasn't the house phone signaling his car, but his landline. ''Dr. Vincent,'' he said as he answered. God, he hoped it wasn't an emergency—he really wasn't dressed to have a lamb be born, or to nurse a horse through colic.

''Good evening, Doctor, I'm sorry to call like this. I'm sure you have plans,'' came the smooth and cheerful voice of his elderly housekeeper.

''Oh, Mrs. Miller, hello. I do, yes—I'm just on my way out, but I have a few minutes.'' He smiled to himself ruefully; he would talk for as long as the lady decided, and he knew it. No matter how successful he got or how many birthdays he had, there would always be Mrs. Miller to defer to.

''I'm merely calling to wish you a happy birthday,'' she said, ''and to ask if you'll be out to the farm this weekend.''

Tobias’ smile grew. ''Thank you, Mrs. Miller, that's really very kind of you. And yes, I'm planning to drive out tomorrow afternoon until Monday.''

''Should I tell Peter not to come then, or would you like him to exercise the horses?''

''No, I'll do it,'' he decided. It was one of the best things about going to the country, and he wouldn't happily pay someone to do it for him when he was there. The house phone buzzed at him, two shorts. ''Thank you again, Mrs. Miller.''

''I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor,'' she said, and he could picture her grinning. ''Enjoy your evening.''

''I hope to,'' he said with a smile. He hung up, buzzed the front desk, and headed to his club.

* * *

The car pulled up in front of the building and Tobias lowered his window for the security guard. ''Good evening, Tobias,'' the man said with a smile that was entirely professional, despite his use of Tobias' first name. It was a club rule that all members were to be treated equally until there was an agreement in place between individuals, and as last names were not used at all in order to preserve anonymity, given names were expected.

''Timothy,'' Tobias said with a warm smile. ''When did you start out here?'' The last time Tobias had been to the club Timothy had been inside.

''About five months ago. I like it, though I'm called back inside if needed.'' Timothy made a note of the number on Tobias' membership card and smiled at him again. ''Have a nice evening, Tobias. And welcome back.''

The car moved slowly ahead and stopped at the wide front steps; by the time Tobias had opened his door the driver was there, and the front door was opening.

''Tobias! Timothy said you were here.''

Tobias shook his head and smiled again. ''I trust you don't mind me appearing again after all this time?'' he asked Bradford.

Bradford met him on the steps and shook his hand. Tobias' friendship with Bradford went back far too many years to count anymore, and even after Tobias’ long absence from the club, the man’s firm handshake felt as familiar and comforting as a favorite sweater. ''The day we turn you from here, my friend,'' Bradford told him with a warm smile, ''is the day I close the old place up. Now, come in! Eat. Enjoy your birthday. I have a room reserved for you, as you requested. You're not meeting anyone are you?''

The club had a small, exclusive membership made up of carefully screened Dominant and submissive men. These men had been screened not just for their level of training but also style and personality, thereby keeping the membership diverse and varied. It wasn’t a BDSM club in the common sense; it was more a place for men to meet, socialize and fulfill each others’ needs and fantasies in a safe and monitored environment. Bradford had taken over management of the club a number of years ago, and eventually assumed ownership as well when his mentor, a smooth, confident Dom who had also been a mentor of Tobias’, was ready to retire. Bradford was a natural host; he knew his membership well, and he had a knack for making everyone feel right at home.

Tobias shook his head again and allowed himself to be led inside. The solid doors closed behind him and he took a deep breath, immediately relaxing. There was just something about the dark interior, the plush fabrics and deep wingback chairs that called to him. Or perhaps it was the crossed whips decorating the walls.

''I don't have a guest, if that's what you mean,'' he told Bradford as they made their way to the small bar. ''But I'm open to possibilities.''

''I was hoping you would say that.'' Bradford suddenly looked speculative. ''In which case...''

''Wait,'' Tobias said, laughing. ''I'm not saying I want you to find me a date. I'm just saying I want to have a pleasant evening—a nice meal, people I like around me—''

''And it's been eight months since you've been here, Tobias. I know you spend your weekends on the farm and your weeknights in town. I'd certainly have heard if you had someone new.'' He shook his head sadly, making Tobias grin. ''No, my friend, you deserve to play. And I might just have the right someone for you.''

Tobias tilted his head and considered his friend. Bradford had been running the club for a number of years, had been an integral part of Tobias' own training. There was perhaps no one more capable of knowing the type of partner Tobias needed, liked... desired.

''Tell me,'' Tobias invited, accepting a glass of ice water from the bartender.

Bradford beamed at him, delighted. ''I can, and will do you one better. Come.''

Tobias had little choice but to follow as Bradford crossed the room with purpose to a small table. Tobias, being behind, could see little other than a man sitting alone. He rose quickly as Bradford made a direct path to him.

''Tobias,'' Bradford said grandly, ''I would like you to meet Noah. Noah, this is Tobias. It is my opinion that the two of you are well suited. Of course, you may decide otherwise, but I encourage you to at least discuss the matter.'' He then bowed his head and stepped back, wishing them good evening with a knowing grin before turning and walking away, leaving Tobias to face this stranger alone, knowing no more than his name.

Title: Submission
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B083BKLWDJ
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-17-8

Submission is available in AUDIO!
Purchase it at Audible, iTunes & Amazon!

Submission est disponible en FRANÇAIS !
Achetez-le directement auprès de Juno Publishing,
ou sur Amazon, 7switch, ou Kobo!

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The Barn: Zeke and Wesley

May 12, 2025 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: The Barn #1
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, Kink/BDSM Light, MM, Novel
Release Date: May 20, 2025
Pages: 270

Zeke and Wesley is an opposites attract romance set in Alaska at a resort for queer men. It features a professional songwriter who is haunted by a past relationship and a fundraiser/event planner who is looking for an adventure.

Wesley Dugan raises money for other people for a living, has finally decided he needs to spend a little on himself for a change. He wants an adventure, somewhere that he can indulge his appetites without making promises to anyone. The Barn is an exclusive Alaskan resort that is highly regarded in the scene and promises kinky delights, assuming Wesley can brave his fear of flying to get there.

Zeke Burrell is about to celebrate a major anniversary. At nearly a thousand days, he imagines he’s spent more time at the Barn than anyone but the owners. To Zeke, the resort is his home and his sanctuary, where he can write music and find peace in his routine.

When they meet, Zeke is surprised to be so curious about the resort’s newest guest. Wesley doesn’t expect to become so infatuated on the first day of his vacation. While their desires brought them to the resort for the same reasons, the rest of their lives couldn’t be any different. Zeke prefers quiet and solitude, while Wesley enjoys the company of others and a good party. Zeke has a complicated history, but Wesley’s couldn’t be more straightforward.

Is it possible for them to find the balance they crave both in-scene and out?

Buy the Book: Amazon

Chapter 1

Wesley was still feeling wobbly when he stepped off the plane. The Xanax he’d taken before he left Sacramento ought to have worn off long ago, so he assumed what he was feeling now was the gin.

He hoisted his backpack higher up on his shoulder and took a few more steps, following the signs for the baggage claim. He didn’t remember taking off, or the stop in Seattle where he fortunately didn’t have to get off the plane. He did remember ordering a drink, though he couldn’t say whether it had been his first, and he remembered the incredible scenery as they approached Juneau.

He’d never seen anything like it. Huge blue and white glaciers lined with black sediment cutting through rocky, snow-capped mountains and spilling into smooth, green water. And all within clear view of the airport.

He was relieved to be on the ground, though, and the unfamiliar surroundings, the strange airport, and what was left of his buzz reminded him that he was finally on vacation in a place where he could be himself, away from the eyes that judged his every move.

“Mr. Dugan, sir?” A blond man in a canvas field coat and hiking boots gave him a wave. “Are you Mr. Dugan?”

He nodded, realizing that this must be the driver he was promised. “I am.”

“Was your flight okay? How are you feeling?”

“I don’t remember much of it to be honest, and I'm still a little…” Drunk, most likely.

“Not to worry; we have an hour or so to go.”

“Let’s hope that does it.” And if not, he’d check in and take a nap.

“No stress, Sir. No one will expect you to be on as soon as you check in. This is a wild trip to Juneau. Everyone needs time to adjust.” He got a warm smile. “I’m Caleb, by the way, and I’m happy to help you out.”

“Thank you, Caleb. I appreciate the help, especially at the moment.” It had been rude of him not to ask the young man’s name, but he’d put his issues with flying in his personal statement, and Caleb seemed to understand that he wasn’t at his best.

He pointed out his suitcase, and Caleb retrieved it, then led him out into the beautiful, cool spring day. There was a luxury Jeep waiting for them, and he was already feeling like he might live.

No stodgy black car, no city traffic to wade through, and when Caleb called him “sir” it wasn’t because Caleb didn’t know his name or because he was the boy's employer. It wasn't even because he had money. Caleb was deferring to his status as a Dominant. Just like his reference to “boy” was about Caleb clearly being a sub.

So fucking refreshing.

He climbed into the front seat and pulled out his phone, intending to check his texts now that he’d landed, but instead, he thought better of it and shut the thing off.

He wasn’t that man here. Not entirely anyway. He took a deep breath to shake off the remaining cobwebs, glanced at the sub in the driver’s seat and smiled. “I am so ready for this.”

“Yes, Sir. I can tell you the Barn is a lovely place to unwind.”

“So, do you work for the management as a driver, or were you instructed to pick me up today? I have to admit, I’m not clear on all the details. I’m here on a recommendation from a friend.”

“I work for management, and I asked to come. I love driving, and it’s a glorious day. There are a couple of other boys who pick up guests, but one has the day off, and I won at Roshambo.”

He gave Caleb a nod and a smile. “Congratulations. And I think you made the right choice. It’s a perfect day to be out in all of this scenery. The view from the plane was stunning.” Even if it had made him anxious. He’d left his window slightly open for the fresh air, though, and was just about clearheaded now. “Thank you for the ride.”

“It’s absolutely my pleasure. Is there any place you’d like to stop in town before we head up into the resort?”

He went with his first instinct. While it was true that he’d slept most of the trip, he was still pretty beat. “I don’t know anything about Juneau, but I assume I’ll have the opportunity to come back and explore at some point. I think I’d like to go get settled in.”

“Yes, Sir. Just lean back and relax. It’s about an hour and a half out, maybe less.”

“Thank you.” As long as they were on solid ground, he didn’t care how long the drive was. He was in fucking Alaska. Everything his eyes landed on was something he’d never seen before.

Title: Zeke & Wesley
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0F7N1TRY3

First Rodeo

August 17, 2019 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #1
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, Novel, Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 15, 2019
Pages: 303

First Rodeo: The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy, Book One

When a killer strikes, Texan and former rodeo cowboy, Sam O’Reilly, loses his older brother. Unbeknownst to Sam, James was also the lover and sub of a sophisticated New York City Dom named Thomas Ward. Sam comes to the city determined to stay until he can bring the murderer to his own brand of justice, while Thomas’ more ordered mind is hoping for a legal solution. Neither man expects their connection to the other, but having each lost someone irreplaceable, their hearts are crying out for comfort almost as loudly as their bodies are screaming for each other.

Some yearnings refuse to be ignored, but transcending their differences to explore the fragile connection between them will prove to be a steep a hill to climb--the first of many. As Sam and Thomas take the first tentative steps on the rocky path that might lead to a relationship, the killer steps out of the shadows...

And this time, his sights are set on Sam.

*Note: Each of the books in The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy have fully realized romantic HEAs. However, the overarching suspense element leaves readers on a cliffhanger after books one and two, to be resolved in book three.

Available to purchase, or to borrow with Kindle Unlimited.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Chapter One

“What the fuck are you going to do, baby brother?” Bowie stood at the gravesite, staring down at him like Bowie always had. Gigantic prick. “Do you think you’re going to fucking fix this? James is dead.”

Like Sam didn’t know that.

Fury flashed inside him, hot and fueled by an agony he’d never expected, and he turned, his fist shooting out and catching Bowie right in the uniformed gut.

Rule number two: never monologue.

That surprised Bowie enough that it doubled him over, and Sam got an uppercut in. He had to get his shots in while he could. His big brother outweighed him by sixty pounds and towered over him by damn near a foot and, he had to be honest, had ten years of being a Ranger behind him.

“Motherfucker!” Bowie reached for him, and he danced out of range.

“You kiss my momma with that mouth, grunt?” He went for Bowie’s trick knee, thankful he had his shitkickers on. That pointed toe was useful, and he had a chance to fell the giant.

Rule number three: once you get them down, keep them down.

Used to be that him and James would work together to take Bowie down. That was never going to happen again.

Never.

The thought of that closed casket, that slashed-up face he’d had the misfortune to identify hidden under the oiled wood, made him gag and stumble, and Bowie took advantage, the fists on the back of his neck enough to face-plant him in grave dirt.

“Rule number one, baby brother. Don’t start shit you don’t have the strength to finish.” The hands around his throat were strong, the tremble in them only noticeable because they were so tight.

The sound of a pistol cocking was sharp and clear, and the fuzzy image of Aunt Linda wavered in his sight. “Boys, if you upset your momma and daddy, I will be put out. Get your skanky asses off the ground. Y’all are in your Sunday clothes.”

“Seriously, Aunt Linda?” Bowie muttered. “Even I didn’t come to the gravesite armed.”

“I know you boys. Can’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Get your asses up. Now.”

Bowie stood up and hauled him alongside, just as easy as pie.

“Now apologize,” she demanded.

“He started it.” Bowie was still a suck-up.

“Jim Bowie O’Reilly! You apologize to your baby brother for putting your hands on him right now!” God, she was a harpy—broad as a barn and fierce as any woman who had raised her own siblings had to have been.

“Sorry, asshole.”

“Yeah. Me too. I just…” Sam waved one hand toward the grave. This wasn’t right. James was supposed to be in New York, living this amazing life with lights and a zillion friends. Bowie had the adventure, James had the city, and he was supposed to stay home here and…hold down the fort or something. He was the baby, and… “It should have been you, Bowie.”

Everyone expected that awful phone call. Every time Bowie was deployed, they lived with that quiet fear.

James was a motherfucking school teacher. An elementary school teacher who didn’t get tattoos or take drugs or—

“Sam!” Aunt Linda sounded horrified.

“What? It’s true!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Suddenly Bowie looked…diminished. Gray and tired and older than the seven years that separated them. “Fuck you, Sammy. I know. So what the fuck are you going to do about James? I have to report back to work.”

“I’m going to go clean out his place.” He was between jobs. Hell, he was between lives—college was pretty much done with him, he’d educated himself into obscurity in ranching, and God knew, no one needed a broke-dick cowboy with a master’s in art history, a shattered leg from bronc riding, and a temper that tended to flare at inappropriate-at-best times. He would go clean things out and see if he could encourage the detectives to find out…anything.

“You sure you’re not going to short out, Sammy?”

“Fuck you. I’ve been to Dallas, Austin. Hell, I went with James to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I ain’t a kid!”

“You’re my kid brother, Sammy, and I only have one left now.” An expression of pure agony crossed Bowie’s face, and Sam turned his back so he didn’t have to see it.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got the time, and Momma’s got to take care of Daddy.”

Things hadn’t been good, but the news of James’s murder had made the little baby strokes turn into a real one, and while Daddy wasn’t crippled or nothing, no one was going to let him fly. Not yet.

“Come on. They’re waiting for y’all down to the big house. You know there’s food and all the Ladies Auxiliary waiting to make a fuss.” Aunt Linda didn’t so much as let a tear go, but she did slip her Saturday Night Special into her pocketbook. “Brother Martin will want to bless you both and lay hands.”

“That son of a bitch touches me and I’ll rip out his spleen,” Bowie growled, and Sam had to smile. That was his big brother.

He could hear James, right now, echoing in his head.

Be good, Jim, honey. You’re teaching Sammy bad habits.

God, it was never going to be right. Never.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

He turned and headed for his truck. James wasn’t here. That was a grave, a body, a stone. He was going to go find James where he’d lived.

Chapter Two

Thank God this was New York City, the only town he knew of, except maybe LA, where yellow police tape didn’t slow anyone down. Aside from the cops, he was the only one there, the only one who cared. Thomas had about as much privacy as he was going to get.

He leaned against the side of the building as the NYPD took the tape down, balled it up, and stuffed it into a nearby garbage can. The evidence markers had been gone for a couple of days, the chalk lines were gone now too, and even the bloodstains in the concrete were already fading. Another day or two and there wouldn’t be any evidence left that James had died here.

But Thomas wouldn’t forget. He couldn’t get away from it. He lived here, worked here, walked the same goddamn streets as whoever was responsible. He still carried around memories of his time with James that he’d never share with anyone. He carried around the plans they’d made and a future that could never happen now.

He hadn’t received an invitation to James’s funeral. This would have to be his closure, watching the investigation into his lover’s murder become routine, move on to the next “phase.” Watching all the evidence disappear.

That was perhaps the most awful addition to his grief. He understood that James couldn’t be wholly out to his family back home in…well, somewhere in East Texas, but understanding it while James was alive and in his arms was one thing. Coming to grips with his exile now was something else entirely. He was bitter; he was angry. Not at James, not at anyone in particular, just at a world that made them hide. He felt humiliated, and that wasn’t a pill he could swallow without choking on it.

Everything about his life was deliberate, yet at the moment, he was experiencing a lack of control he’d never imagined possible.

One of the cops walked over and offered him a smoke. Colletti was his name. “Wouldn’t you rather be home?”

“This is as close as I want to get right now.” God, listen to him. He refused the cigarette, but just barely. Vices sounded like such a good idea.

“Dobson is going to call you, routine stuff. Did they ask you not to leave town?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t an imperative, but it was strongly suggested.” Insult to injury.

Officer Colletti gave him a nod. “We’re done here. Take care, Mister Ward.”

“Thanks.”

The squad car drove off, and New York seemed impossibly quiet all of a sudden.

A man with a duffel and a cowboy hat walked up to the stoop, and for a second, Thomas’s heart stopped. He closed his eyes until he could breathe again.

Fuck, tourists were everywhere in this city. He just hadn’t been prepared for one in a cowboy hat. He took a breath and headed down the steps. He needed a coffee.

They passed each other, the man meeting his eyes and nodding. “Afternoon.”

“Where are you going?” He knew those eyes intimately. He reached out and grabbed the man by the arm, that hazel making his heart pound. “Who are you?”

“Who the fuck is asking, motherfucker?” The little guy just popped right up into his face, those eyes flashing.

Christ, the cowboy sounded just like James too. Only James would have known better than to meet his eyes.

He stood his ground, inches away, instinct and training helping him stare the kid down. “You’re an O’Reilly. Which one? Sam, right? The bronc rider? You’re too small to be Jim.”

“Bowie,” the kid corrected immediately, even as he nodded. “Who are you?”

Nobody you’d know.

“Right. Bowie.” He let go of Sam’s arm. He knew he should back down, but it took real effort. “I’m Thomas Ward. I…knew your brother.”

Fuck. I loved him.

“Knew him? Y’all worked together?”

What was he going to do? He wasn’t going to out James now. What would be the point? It hurt, though, denying James and jumping back into a closet he’d slammed the door on as soon as he’d stepped foot in this city years ago. “No. We are…were really good friends. He told me all about you guys.”

“Oh. I’m here to…clean up, I guess. Stuff.” Sam tilted his head. “Is this your building too?”

“Uh.” Well, fuck. James had always said Sam was bright. “No.” He’d asked about moving in together. James had been thinking about it. “I was just missing him.”

“Oh. I—come on up, huh?”

Title: First Rodeo: The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy, Book One
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B07YM1QNK4
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-02-4

Find Jodi's full catalog with links to all your favorite formats at Queeromance Ink!

Breaking the Rules

August 23, 2020 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: Triskelion Series #1
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, MM, Novel
Release Date: September 22, 2020
Pages: 450

Breaking the Rules: The Triskelion Series, Book One

Saul Reynolds manages a busy bicycle shop in downtown Boulder, Colorado. A recent CU graduate, he’s also a Dom, and has many friends his age in the scene. Saul’s an old soul, and even at twenty-five, he’s had enough experience to understand his own desires. He’s had plenty of lovers and he’s played the role of part-time Dom, but he’s never found the perfect combination of lover and sub in one man.

Troy Finch lost his lover in a rodeo accident twenty years ago, moved to Boulder, and has worked as a line cook in his friend Carter’s diner ever since. He’s attended many parties at Carter’s home with couples in the BDSM lifestyle and feels comfortable in a submissive role, but without a Dom of his own, Troy hasn’t explored what that really means to him. He has needs he doesn’t entirely understand and finds his only outlet at the hands of Carter’s husband, Geoff, a tattoo artist who has used Troy’s skin as a canvas for as long as they’ve known each other, covering Troy in colorful, intricate triskelia.

Troy doesn’t know what he was thinking accepting a dinner invitation from a kid half his age, but everything feels right about their evening together, including Saul’s Dominant side. The rules for a twenty-five year old gay cowboy from years ago, though, are totally different than for a twenty-five year old college grad in Boulder now, and despite Saul’s confidence, Troy isn’t sure whether they can make it work.

Saul and Troy manage to bend a good many rules in the name of caring and compromise, but in the name of love, there are some rules they’re just going to have to break.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Chapter One

Saul held the mountain bike like a lover, like it was something precious, babying the new paint job and shiny chrome as he loaded it into the back of the pick-up truck. He wrapped it in a blanket so it would stay spotless on the drive and checked the tires for the third time.

Then he hopped out of the bed and shut the tailgate. All good. That bike was some of his best work. Thank goodness for Emma, he wanted to deliver this one personally and he didn’t have wheels of his own.

You got this.

It was another perfect spring day and downtown Boulder was busy. He drove up Canyon Boulevard and parked near the east end of the Pearl Street Mall, then reversed the process with the bicycle, gingerly lowering it to the ground. He got on it and took a lap of the parking lot, fucking with the gears and brakes. Damn, this was a sweet rebuild.

He walked the bike to Carter Lee’s diner, which of course he’d forgotten the name of, but he knew the one, he’d been there a bunch of times. Best cup of coffee in town, crazy good French toast. Small world, colliding with the man who owned that place.

He’d rebuilt the whole front end, put on new tires, a new chain, a new gear shift, replaced the scuffed-up pedals and the twisted handlebars, and had given the thing a new paint job. It sparkled like new, which was pretty much the least he could do after almost knocking out Carter’s front teeth.

He pulled up outside the diner and peered through the window, trying to see if he could catch Carter’s eye, but the place was hopping, and everyone was busy. He sighed and locked the bike up, making sure it was as far away from other bikes as possible, and headed inside.

“Just one?” The hostess grabbed a menu.

“Oh, I’m just… I was looking for…”

“This way, please.”

He blinked, totally off-guard, and followed her to a small table. “I’m actually just here to see Carter.”

“I’ll let him know you’re looking for him. Coffee?”

“Oh I, uh.” She peered at him expectantly. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“You take cream?” She handed him a menu, sighing as a group of mountain bikers showed up. “Ah, to-go orders. I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

“Yes,” he called after her. He glanced over at the bikers, but he didn’t know any of them. Must not be local. He knew a lot of the real enthusiasts in town from his shop.

He glanced at his watch. It was eleven-thirty and he’d been putting the finishing touches on the bike all morning. He supposed he could eat, but he really didn’t need the menu. He wanted that French toast with the berries and the vanilla-maple syrup. He could almost taste it.

“Troy! Troy, I need seven more turkey sandwiches to go. All chips.”

“On it, honey,” a rough drawl answered her, the John Deere ball cap the only thing visible through the pass-through.

That was one of his favorite things, the way Carter’s cook worked—steady, calm, fast and obviously damn good at his job.

He tried to think how long the guy had been working back there. Had to be forever, and in all that time he’d never heard the cook get ruffled. Just “On it,” or “Yes, ma’am” with that deep tone. He liked the voice, and he was pretty sure he’d have recognized it anywhere.

“Hey, man, how goes it?” Carter came and sat, offering him a smile. “Run anyone over this week?”

He grinned and felt his cheeks burn, totally embarrassed. “Nope. I’m finding you a tough act to follow. I think I’ve hit a dry spell. You?”

“Busy as a one-armed paperhanger.” Carter smiled for him, and, okay, he was totally glad he hadn’t knocked those teeth out.

“I see that. I have to say I’m sorry again. Hopefully your bike will make up for the bruises. It’s all done, I parked it outside. If you have any problems, you just let me know, I’ll get it right for you.” He smiled back, going for charming but not flirty. Carter was a handsome but married man.

“You rock, man. I mean it. Let me grab you a cup of coffee and…you’re the French toast, right?”

“My favorite. Thanks so much.” Carter was the coolest cat on the planet. He wasn’t sure if he could be that chill if someone barreled into his path out of nowhere, sent him flying and mangled his handlebars. He’d like to think he could, he tried to be level-headed, and shit happens, right?

“Right on.” Carter stood and went to pour his coffee. “Troy, I need a French toast with berries and a side of bacon on the fly.”

“On it, boss.”

On it, boss. Saul smiled and leaned back in his chair. That drawl was something. He thanked Carter again for the coffee and his stomach growled as he picked it up to take a sip. Yeah, he could eat.

He drank his coffee and checked his phone while he waited. He answered an email from Emma about the supply order he’d placed the day before. Thank goodness Emma was as much of a workaholic as he was. The shop was demanding and busy.

He also made a cocktail hour appointment with Khloe, who said she needed a hand. He wasn’t her Dom, but she didn’t have one at the moment and she was a friend. If she needed him, he’d be there.

“Excuse me. You’re the French toast?” Shocking green eyes stared at him. They seemed huge when paired with that bald head.

He stared right back and smiled, stunned by the handsome face that went with the drawl. “Actually, I’m Saul. But I’m having the French toast.”

“Good deal.” He got a smile, a nod as the plate was put in front of him. “Enjoy your breakfast, sir.”

“I always do. You make amazing French toast.” He boldly reached out and touched a triskelion tattoo on the cook’s wrist with curious fingers, keeping the man there another second. “Great ink. What’s your name?”

“Finch. Troy Finch. Pleased to meet you.”

As his gaze traveled up, he discovered the triskelions climbing up Troy Finch’s arm, some delicate and lacy, some violent and sharp-edged. It was fascinating, and he had all kinds of questions.

“I think the pleasure is really mine, Troy.” As much as he wanted to keep this lovely man talking, he lifted his fingers away. “I know you’re busy back there. Thank you for taking the time to run this out to me.”

“You’re welcome, sir. Boss is bad about letting his orders die in the window.”

“Get your ass in the kitchen. I hear you, telling lies about me.” Carter was barely holding his laughter back.

Troy snorted, but dropped him a wink. “Yes, sir. No smoke break for me?”

“Nope. Kitchen.”

“Thanks again, Troy.” Saul watched the guy take a few strolling steps toward the kitchen and then head back to work. He glanced up at Carter. “Interesting guy. Lots of pretty specific ink. Nice work.” He picked up the little glass jug of syrup and covered his plate in it.

“It is. My husband, Geoff? He did all the work.”

“Yeah? He must be pretty creative.” Who knew there were so many different ways to draw a triskelion? He’d seen at least ten or twelve and he figured there had to be more going up that arm. He started in on his French toast. “Mm. So good.” Like foodgasm good.

“Enjoy, huh? It’s on the house.” Carter grinned at him, dark eyes wrinkling with the power of his smile. “The bike looks great, man. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re happy with it. I thought it came out pretty sweet.” Yeah, he could maybe be more humble. But he knew what his strengths were, and custom bikes was one of them. He was good at what he did. He smiled right back at Carter. “Try not to get in my way again, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. Pay attention, and I’ll do my best.” The wink he got was pure mischief.

He laughed. “You’re on. Listen, what are you doing Sunday? You want to ride? We could have a rematch.”

“Sure. Sunday’s my day off. Let me check with Geoff, but he’ll be asleep. He works late on Saturdays.”

“Perfect.” He swallowed the big bite he had in his mouth. “Don’t let me keep you, I get that it’s busy. Thank you so much for the lunch.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll text you.” Then poof, Carter was off and running, greeting customers and bussing tables.

He knew Carter was going to like how he’d fixed up the bike. He knew it. Just like he was sure Troy’s stunning green eyes had gotten a good look at his ring, the one bearing the symbol that matched the carpet of amazing ink on the cook’s arm.

He finished his food and left a great big tip. Then he pulled out one of his business cards from the shop, flipped it over and wrote a quick note on the back before handing it to the hostess.

“Excuse me. Troy might need to reach me, so can you make sure he gets this?” He held the card out to her.

“Yeah, sure. Have a good day.”

“Thanks much. You too.” As he was leaving, he heard her calling back to Troy for more sandwiches to go.

Title: Breaking the Rules, The Triskelion Series, Book One
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08HL47PTT
ISBN13: 978-1-7330076-2-7

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Just Dex

January 4, 2021 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #1
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, MM, Novel
Release Date: January 19, 2021
Pages: 570

Dexter is rudderless and headed down a dark path. Cyrus knows the young man has great potential, but will Dex let him prove it before it's too late?

When Dexter Appleton’s best friend Huck commits suicide, it damn near kills Dex too. Huck was a bull rider with a chaotic life, and leaves behind a big house, and a ton of unanswered questions. But Dex is just a simple guy, just a Texas cowboy trying to scrape together a life, and he can’t handle much more before he breaks.

Cyrus Hughes is a therapist whose Lifestyle patients have very particular needs. He’s shocked to learn that Huck is gone after meeting with him twice a month for years, and he didn’t expect to miss a client so much. When he heads to Texas to pay his respects, he instinctively feels protective of Huck’s anxious and unlikely best friend, Dexter.

The attraction between them grows, even long distance, until Cyrus insists he needs Dex with him in New York. Clinging to his last bit of hope, Dex takes a leap of faith and moves what little he still owns in with Cyrus, hoping to find his place in the world.

Their path is full of trial and error, triumphs and misunderstandings. Cyrus and Dex will have to adjust their expectations to create a life together…one where Dex understands that he is not “just” anything.

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Excerpt:

Dex let himself into Huck’s house, his hand shaking so bad that he missed the lock twice.

Twice.

Huh, you’d think he was a drunk on a three-day binge.

Maybe he would be soon. Who knew? Maybe he’d run away from Salado, drive down to Galveston, up to Beaver’s Bend, away. Maybe he’d just go home and have a long nap. Maybe he’d head to Sixth Street and play with the college kids.

Maybe.

He could hear the alarm deal when he opened the door, distantly, and he wandered to the keypad, turned it off. Huck could do it from his phone—got a kick out of turning it on when he was house sitting, in fact.

Dex stood there in the foyer, the sun pouring into the house, lighting all the wood up, the dust making patterns in the air.

There was an alligator.

A tulip.

A longhorn.

A leaf.

A noose.

His knees buckled and he hit the floor, hands slapping down so hard it hurt.

Suddenly it was like he was Huck, hanging from his bullrope in a hotel bathroom, throat closed, body going heavy and swollen, nasty with gas and bacteria and flies and…

“No.”

The scream that wanted out was just a tiny squeak, but it proved he was here. Here in Huck’s house. Here, waiting for somebody—anybody—to tell him what the fuck to do.

His best friend in all the world—the face he’d known from the nursery at First Baptist, the first guy he’d ever kissed, the person who quit the baseball team when he got thrown out. Huck.

Huck was dead.

Jesus Christ, Huck McNamara was dead, and Dexter was…not.

***

Tuesdays were quiet enough that Cyrus could sit at the bar. He hauled himself through the front door out of the rain and stomped the water off his boots, shivering for a second as the air conditioning hit him. His iPad was stuffed under his jacket to stay dry and had been tucked against his side so hard he thought maybe he’d bruised something.

Ironic. He’d managed not to pick up any new bruises all day despite his client being particularly needy.

The bartender gave him a wave, and he waved back before hanging up his coat on the pegs by the door.

Tuesdays should be Greg behind the bar, but Greg finally got cast in some new off-Broadway show Cyrus couldn’t remember the name of and might be at rehearsal.

He set his iPad down on the bar at his usual spot with a good view of both the TV and the door.

“Mr. Hughes. Always good to see you.” A mug of hot coffee landed on the bar along with a bowl of pretzels.

Not Greg. Good for him. “Oh, perfect. Thanks, Perry.”

“It’s a fresh pot. I’m mainlining it tonight. I pulled a double yesterday and picked up Greg’s shift tonight. I’m toast.” Perry leaned against the bar, blue eyes shining in the lights. Such a lovely young man.

“Well, I won’t bother you much. I have a little work to do.”

“Bother me when you’re ready for a break. This place is dead with the weather.” Perry winked at him.

“Okay.” Sounded like Perry wanted some company. He’d just get the pressing stuff done, then he could chat awhile.

He took a sip of his coffee and hummed as the warmth chased the last of the damp summer rain away. Then opened up his iPad. His calendar was full. He’d had inquiries from two potential new clients, but fitting them in would be a challenge. He looked his week over and shook his head. The rest of this week was impossible but maybe—

Well, maybe next Thursday if Huck didn’t answer his phone soon. Cyrus had been calling him since he no-showed last week. It was the first time in nearly two years that Huck had missed an appointment; the cowboy was as regular as the sunrise. Twice a month on a Thursday since the very first time they’d met. It was more than a little worrisome.

He pulled out his cell phone and found Huck’s number, trying it one more time.

“McNamara’s phone. What can I do you for?”

Damn, that was…odd. Now he was definitely worried. And curious.

Okay. Discretion. He found his professional voice. He’d done this lots of times. “Hello. I’m looking for Huck. Is he available?”

“Oh hell’s bells, am I talking to his therapist? That’s what comes up on the phone.” So, another Texan—lover? Family?

Therapist was pretty common. He found the different ways people referred to him so interesting. “Yes, it’s Cyrus Hughes. Who am I speaking with?”

“Dex. Dexter Appleton. I—” There was a shaky breath, a pause. “Damn, Sam. This never gets easier. Never. I’m sorry, buddy. Huck hung himself in Nashville. He’s gone.”

“He what?” What? He knew something was wrong, but he was thinking rodeo accident or that Huck was in a wreck. Cy covered his other ear and listened. “I—I’m…sorry for your loss.” Hung himself. Cyrus would never have—he had no idea Huck was— “Shit.”

“Yessir. The funeral’s planned here for Monday. I mean, if you want to come out. You in Austin or Dallas?”

“New York,” he said absently. “I’m in New York.” Huck. Why didn’t you call me?

“New—What? Did you say New York?” The shock on the other end of the line was…huge. Like he’d said he was from the moon.

“Where are you? What was he doing in Nashville? How could he have hung himself?” Right. He needed to stop talking before this Dexter guy hung up on him.

“I’m at Huck’s house. We’re outside Salado. He was at a bull riding, and he used his motherfucking bull rope.” The guy’s voice started to crack, and he heard Dexter take a deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry. You need to know where to send flowers?”

“I think—” I think I need to be there. “When… When did you say the service was? Is it in…you said Salado?”

Perry glanced at him and he shook his head sadly, which made Perry come over and give his shoulder a squeeze. That was kind, but he really had no idea what he was feeling right now. He was in shock, obviously, as Dexter probably was as well. It definitely felt like real grief though.

“Monday afternoon at one. No viewing. Broecker here in town. I’m burying him next to his momma. Hold up.” There was a pause, and then, “Goddamn it, y’all! I am trying to deal with shit. Take that beer outside!”

He typed the date and time right into his calendar and the name of the town and the place into the notes. “Got it. I’m sorry, I won’t keep you. My condolences, I’m really very sorry.” He started to say that Huck was a good man, but what did he know really? He’d learned better than to assume. You’d think after all this time he’d know, but he didn’t.

“Thank you. I’m sure he, uh, he…liked you?” A soft chuckle sounded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how that works—therapists.”

“He did. He trusted me.” In his world, that was the highest compliment Huck could have given him. “Thank you. Have a good night.”

He hung up and set his phone carefully on the bar.

Perry looked at him seriously. “You okay, Cy?”

Cyrus shrugged reflexively. “I lost a…a client.” It was really strange to think that a man with as much fight in him as Huck would hang himself. Sure, Huck was obviously frustrated, maybe angry, but suicidal? Wouldn’t Cy have seen that?

Should he have?

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.”

He tossed a twenty on bar and pushed off his stool. “I’m going to head home.”

“I get it. Safe home, Cy.”

He scooped up his iPad, tucked it under his arm and stepped out into the rain.

He was nearly home before he realized he’d forgotten his coat.

Fuck.

He’d go back for it tomorrow.

Title: Just Dex
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08S1R8J3C
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-38-3

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Hide Bound

December 28, 2021 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #2
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, MM, Novel
Release Date: January 18, 2022
Pages: 276

Peter Marshall has had enough of working for Parks and Rec when he comes across an opening for a real carpentry job and decides to give it a go. Building things is his passion, so even though the shop seems a little out there, and the owner seems pretty grumpy, Peter decides to go for it.

Brandon McPhail wishes he didn’t have to hire a new carpenter, but his current one is going out on maternity leave. He’s especially wary of this kid who can’t possibly be old enough to spell BDSM, let alone know what the lifestyle means. But Peter impresses Brandon with both his talent and his tenacity, so Brandon hires him on, reminding himself that he’s in a wheelchair due to his MS, he had a terrible experience in his last relationship, and despite how clueless Peter is about the lifestyle, he’s not interested in taking on another sub.

The chemistry between them is undeniable, though, and it’s not long before they’re exploring what they can learn from each other. Peter is a natural at fulfilling Brandon’s needs, and Brandon thinks he’s teaching Peter everything he’s eager to learn, but when danger threatens, they have to help their friends through it while trying to navigate their new relationship. Can they forge bonds strong enough to bind them together for life?

Note to readers: Each book in this series is a true standalone, so don't be confused when you discover that Hide Bound takes place before Just Dex in the "timeline". That was deliberate, and you don't need to have read one to read the other.

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Also in this series:

Chapter One

“What are you looking at, Peter?”

Shane, Peter Marshall’s tattoo artist, was also a professional piercer, and therefore one of Peter’s favorite people in the whole world.

“Classifieds.”

Peter spent so much time in Shane’s shop that it felt like he belonged there. Shane had been working on outlining and coloring Peter’s amazing sleeve and chest piece for a long while, bit by bit as Peter found the money. He’d almost taken off his shirt when he walked in the door this morning; it was a weird automatic thing to just strip it off every time he got there.

But today he wasn’t getting more ink, he was getting snake bites on the left side of his lower lip. Two small, black horseshoe rings to match his septum ring, only these had little triangular ends that Shane called spikes. He liked that they sounded a little dangerous but weren’t really; they were just a little pokey.

Shane put dots on his lip with a marking pen and showed him the placement. “Looking for work?”

“Always.” He handed the mirror back to Shane. “That looks great.”

“You’re a contractor, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m really a carpenter by—” Shane startled him by tilting his chair back suddenly so he was reclining a little. “Whoa.”

Shane grinned evilly at him. “Sorry, man. Did I forget to warn you?”

Peter laughed. “Gosh, I guess you did.”

“Okay, no more talking. I’m working.”

He gave Shane a thumbs up and closed his eyes.

He really needed a new job. Right now he worked for New York City Parks and Rec as a contractor, and he spent his time fixing things—gates and picnic tables, usually things stupid people broke. The older guys he worked with called it job security, but Peter didn’t feel like he needed to be fixing the toilets in the public restrooms in Central Park to feel secure.

He was good at the job though; he could fix almost anything. He liked to say he knew just enough about plumbing and electricity to be dangerous, but he hadn’t actually blown anything up or hurt anyone yet. Anyone but himself anyway, and that was fine.

He did like a few bruises.

He felt the quick pressure and slight sting as the piercing went through his lip and his mind drifted just a bit. The second one stung more than the first and pushed him even farther away. He snorted when Shane teased him about the little grin he thought he was suppressing.

“You like that, huh? You’re into pain, I know.”

“Yeah, some. Sorry.” He was weird. But Shane wasn’t going to tell anyone.

“No worries. You have to be willing to dish it out a little to do what I do, too. It’s all good.”

Another reason Shane was one of his favorites.

“I’m going to sit you up. Open your eyes when you’re ready and have a look.” Shane pressed a hand mirror into his fingers knowing he’d settle in a second and raised the head of the chair.

After a time, he couldn’t be sure how long, he had a look. “Oh, perfect. I love the spikes.”

“They’re great. Stylish and a little intimidating. Clean the outside a few times a day, don’t use mouthwash or kiss anyone for a week or so. You’re good to go.”

He swung his legs off the table and stood up, blinking at the little surge of lightheadedness. Mmm, that was good. He offered Shane a hand. “Thanks, man.”

“More ink next week? I’m itching to finish the outline across your shoulders.”

Rent was due Friday so that was iffy. “If I have the cash, I’ll be here.”

“Even if you don’t. I really want to finish that bit; it’s killing me.” Shane winked at him.

He agreed and pulled his phone back out, reading the ad he’d been looking at for the fifth time.

Midtown boutique seeks full-time carpenter for custom furniture builds.

Real work. Custom work.

Must have experience. Blah blah blah.

No sweat.

The place was called “Hide Bound”, and he figured it was one of those made-to-order places that built stuff to spec. It wasn’t design work, but it was a far cry from replacing yet another flush handle.

So that was going to be his next stop. Him and his fat lip.

He sent a little prayer up to the gods of job hunting that the position paid well enough he could say yes if it was offered to him.

Title: Hide Bound
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09PGKXTSK
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-68-0

Deviations: Domination

April 11, 2017 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #2
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, Novel
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 324

In this sequel to Deviations: Submission, Dom Tobias and Sub Noah are back, learning more about each other and their relationship, and testing the boundaries of what they can and can’t handle, both together and apart.

Tobias works at becoming more comfortable and finding his balance as a full-time Master again. His work brings out the true submissive in Noah, who faces some of his greatest fears, and his greatest secrets, finally confessing to Tobias about a terrible time in his past.

But Noah is not the only one who has a rough time. Tobias breaks down and shows Noah he's not all Dominance, too, which sends shockwaves through their romance, leaving them to wonder if they can hold onto their balance together.

Dominations is a deep exploration of the BDSM scene, with secondary characters who enhance the story and a central romance that has the reader rooting for Tobias and Noah to work through their obstacles and come out stronger.

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EXCERPT FROM DOMINATION

Wednesday. It had been a long, drawn-out week, and Tobias couldn't believe it was still only Wednesday.

He'd had a full day, out of town as usual in the morning, helping a mare to foal. She threw a beautiful dark bay colt that presented very much like his particularly handsome sire, and Tobias had considered making a bid for him right then and there but restrained himself. He was already training Noah; he didn't need another colt to complicate their weekends. Things were busy enough in his life without adding a new horse to his stables, a new responsibility to his already full plate.

In the few weeks since he'd met Noah at his club, Tobias had swung from one rush of feeling to another. Sexually, they were more than compatible, Noah's natural submissive tendencies meshing well with Tobias' own need to dominate. It went deeper than just mere sex, however, and in very short order Tobias and Noah had signed a six-month contract binding them together in a more tangible power exchange.

It was serious, it was important, and it was very heady. Tobias found almost all of his time taken up with thinking about his new submissive, lost in plans and a fair number of daydreams. It made his hours working as a large animal veterinarian seem almost relaxing by comparison. He only hoped that Noah's daydreams were confined to when he wasn't in his patrol car -- a police officer with his mind on his relationship wasn't good for anyone.

When Tobias walked in the door of his uptown condo, he set his keys down on the hall table and hit the play button on the answering machine as he pulled off his boots. After a long beep a rich male voice began to speak. ''Hello, Tobias, it's Bradford. I haven't seen you or your boy around the club in nearly a month. I trust this is a good sign? I'd like to get together and hear about how things are going. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am checking up on you; don't get your knickers in a twist, friend, it's just that... well, I worry. Oh, thank you for sending me a copy of your contract, I've put that in your files. Give me a call, Tobias, and let's have dinner. I'd like to catch up.''

Tobias sighed ruefully and nodded to himself. On some level he'd expected the call, though he hadn't really thought about it in terms of Bradford checking up on them. Still, it wouldn't be a trial to talk about Noah and where things stood at the moment; in fact, he'd welcome another perspective. He had a plan for the weekend and it might be a good idea to talk it over with someone who knew them both.

After stopping in the kitchen long enough to determine that he needed to order out for dinner, Tobias picked up the phone and called Bradford's direct line at the club. If the man didn't pick up, he'd at least be able to leave a message.

''Hello?'' Bradford was a man who'd done very, very well for himself. Part of his success was due to the fact that he could always be relied upon to respect the anonymity and privacy of his members and guests. Case in point, he never answered the phone with his own name or the name of the club, just a simple, discreet greeting, giving away nothing until he knew who was on the other end of the line.

''Good evening, Bradford,'' Tobias said with a smile. ''I got your message, Mother.''

''Ah, sonny-boy, so good to hear from you.'' Bradford snorted. ''Don't give me that crap, Tobias. I set the two of you up, you're both important members, and I want to know how it's going for you. That's called integrity, hmm? Trust me, I haven't a maternal bone in my body.''

Tobias grinned, not buying it for a moment. ''Sure. Whatever you say. You can stop worrying, though; things are fine.'' He crossed to the big window in his living room and looked out at the city lights, counting blocks until he found Noah's.

'''Fine' is such a drab, generic word, Tobias. Tell me what you really mean,'' Bradford encouraged.

''I mean... fine. Good. Great. He's coming along nicely; we've established a base level trust, I think.'' He turned and leaned on the window sill, facing the room. ''He had dinner with Phantom last week.'' Tobias resisted the urge to cringe at the thought of the two men, his new lover and his past lover, chatting happily over dinner. They both tended toward the unpredictable, and that worried him.

''Oh, yes, I know he did. That's part of the reason for my call. I gather it went well? Phan thought he was 'hot.''' Bradford loved gossip and made himself privy to all the rumors around the club. At first glance one might call it catty, but Tobias knew better -- he was simply protecting his own.

''It seemed to go well. Noah was fine when I saw him later. Calm, steady... he seemed to think Phan was -- look, how deep do you want to go here? I'd rather do this in person if you're looking for a long debrief. If you're just needing quiet assurances, both Noah and I are fine. The weekends are going well, and we're in touch through the week as well.''

Tobias knew as soon as he spoke that he'd sounded snappish and protective and that Bradford wouldn't miss it. The trouble was, he wasn't sure why he suddenly felt like pulling back -- and that meant he needed to talk it out. He sighed. ''Damn circular logic,'' he muttered.

''Tobias,'' Bradford sighed and made a clicking sound with his tongue. ''Be my guest tomorrow night for dinner. Here. What would you like to eat? I'll make sure it's prepared for you.''

Tobias rolled his eyes, safely several miles out of Bradford's view. ''Something gentle. Linguini in clam sauce?'' He hoped the tacit acceptance would be enough.

''Done. I look forward to seeing you, Tobias, it's been long enough,'' Bradford said softly, and Tobias could practically hear the man's very genuine smile.

He found himself smiling in reply. ''I'll see you tomorrow night, old friend. Around seven, I think.'' He hung up and turned once more to look out over the city, watching the cars cruise along Lincoln, toward downtown and Noah.

Title: Domination
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0839M66Z6
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-19-2

Domination is available in AUDIO!
Purchase it at Audible, iTunes & Amazon!

Domination is available in FRENCH!
Purchase it from Juno Publishing directly,
or on Amazon, 7switch, or Kobo!

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Razor’s Edge

November 24, 2019 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #2
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Gay, Novel, Romantic Suspense
Release Date: January 21, 2020

Razor's Edge, The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy, Book Two

Razor blades left by a murderer continue to remind Sam and Thomas of James, the man they lost to violence, whose killer is still out there and seems to be watching them constantly, biding his time.

Their carefully built relationship also teeters on the edge of a knife. Sam tries to be the full-time sub he thinks Thomas wants, but fails miserably, while Thomas tries to understand that Sam is unique and his cowboy’s needs don’t lend themselves to a formal BDSM lifestyle. They work through confusion, arguments, and stress, but when communication starts to break down, they struggle to reconcile their differences to learn what it means to be a “them”.

An emotional misunderstanding might be the last straw, or it might be the opportunity the killer has been waiting for to take Sam out of Thomas’s life once and for all.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Excerpt

Chapter One

“You want a ride home, little Sammy?” Angel looked tired, a little grumpy.

Sam got it. It was four in the morning and no one liked that time—just getting up or getting off work.

“You going that way? Toward Thomas’s, I mean.”

The big man looked over at him slowly, fingers combing his beard. “Thomas’s? At this hour?”

“Yessir. We cleaned out James’s place. It was time.” His late brother’s apartment had been hanging over the two of them for too long. They’d cleaned it out, then he’d moved in with Thomas. Crawling into bed with his lover was amazing. A lot of things he was learning these days were pretty fucking amazing. Hell, he could feel Thomas with him, feel the sweet sting of his Dom’s stripes right across his shoulders. It was proof they weren’t alone, either of them.

“What, really? Thomas was really ready to do that? You need a place to stay, I got an extra room.”

“That’s kind as all get-out. Seriously. But I’m okay.” Oh, maybe it was supposed to be a secret. Thomas had said it was important to him, to keep things where they belonged. God, he needed to keep his fucking mouth shut. “I-I think I’m going to go take myself to breakfast, man, get some reading done, but thanks.”

“Shut up, Sammy. It’s not like I don’t know he’s your Master. Are you and Thomas a romantic thing now? Is this supposed to be some big secret because he’s coming off a relationship with James? Don’t be stupid. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He didn’t know if it was a secret, if he was a secret. He hadn’t even considered it. He’d been so caught up in everything, so proud to be with Thomas, that he hadn’t been thinking.

In some ways he was always going to be a giant redneck.

“I’ll tell you, it’s a good thing you told me, because I was about to make a move myself. No lie. Leave it to Thomas to get two O’Reilly brothers. The little shit.”

Angel led him out to that big Harley.

“There seems to be something about him, yessir.”

About to make a move on him? Sleeping with Angel would be like sleeping with his big brother, Bowie. They were just alike, the two of them—huge. Sam trusted Angel with his life, but the idea of… Whoa. No.

He would let Thomas take him in every possible way. The idea of doing that with someone else made his butthole pucker.

“Hardly seems fair.” Angel climbed on and offered him a hand, grinning wide. “Well, at least I can still get you to ride bitch.”

“Absolutely. And you’re on the top of my list for fixing me when I’m broke.”

“If Thomas breaks you, I will break his head.” Angel looked back at him. “Not joking.” They took off down city streets that were much too bright for the darkest hour of the morning, and eerily deserted too. Angel didn’t seem to care much for stoplights or speed limits or really anything that might be considered obeying traffic laws.

He loved it, loved the adrenaline rush, the way Angel drove. It made him want to learn to drive a motorcycle.

Thomas lived on a more residential street, and Angel did back off the throttle a little so the Harley rumbled rather than roared, but Sam was still pretty sure they could be heard three blocks away. “You okay? You want me to walk you in?”

“Thomas will be sound asleep, I bet. I’d hate to wake him. Thank you, though.” Angel had been a dream, driving him home, making sure everything was good.

“We won’t. I won’t come in. I just want to make sure you get in all the way.”

He nodded. “Thank you. Y’all are all good to me.”

They got into the building, and the elevator crawled up. He blinked slowly, now that he was close to home, he wanted a shower and a bowl of cereal and to curl up with Thomas. Possibly on his belly. Get the fabric off his sore shoulders.

When the elevator doors opened, he chuckled as Angel walked him to the apartment door. Sam fumbled his key out, dropped it, and picked it up, sighing at himself. “Ready for a long nap and a day off.”

He put the key in the lock, grabbed the door handle, and bit out a “Fuck!” as a razor blade sliced into his palm.

“You okay? What the—shit, you’re bleeding.” Angel took the blade in one hand and opened the door with the other. “What the actual fuck?”

Sam stood there, staring at the razor, just stunned. No. No way. No fucking way.

He’d thought it was a prankster in James’s building.

“Sammy? You okay, man? Go inside.” Angel made him move, closed and locked the door behind them. “Hey. Sam.”

“I don’t understand.” God. This wasn’t a dipshit at the apartment. This wasn’t a trickster. No. This was about him.

It was about him, and now he’d brought it to Thomas. The asshole followed him to Thomas’s building.

Fuck. This was fucking about him.

His mind spun, and his heart pounded. “I need to see if Thomas is okay.”

“If…” Angel started to question him, but must have seen how serious he was. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

But before they made it halfway down the hall, Thomas called out for him. “Sam? Is that you? Everything okay?”

“We need you out here, Tommy.”

“Angel?”

“Now, Tommy.”

Sam just kept walking, his hand closed against his chest. He needed to see Thomas, to make sure he was…intact.

They met in the bedroom doorway, practically colliding in Thomas’s hurry to join them. “Sam? Angel? What’s going on? Sweetheart?”

Sam searched Thomas’s eyes, which were sleepy and worried, but his lover was whole.

Angel held up the razor blade. “On your door. He wouldn’t let me clean him up before he saw you.”

Sam had brought this to Thomas’s home. Him. Goddammit.

Thomas stared at it and sighed. “Fuck.” Thomas looked back at him. “I’m fine. You need to let Angel look at that, boy. I’m calling Colletti.”

“I’m sorry.” He headed to the kitchen and stuck his hand under the water, staring at nothing. He needed to…he ought to…he was…

Angel followed him, and he heard Thomas on his cell phone in the bedroom. “Who’s Colletti? Sam. Hey.” The water suddenly went ice cold.

His eyes flew open, his entire body jerking with the cold. “I have to take a walk. I’ll be back. I’ll bring back coffee.”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Like hell you will. You’re in shock, Sammy. You need to sit down.” Angel took him by the arm. “Come on. You’re going to sit and let me see that cut.”

Angel sat him down, staring right in his eyes. This wasn’t Angel his buddy talking now; this was Angel the EMT. Angel the retired Army combat medic. “Breathe, Sammy. In and out. Just relax. You’re okay.”

He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay at all.

“Hang on.” Angel wrapped his hand up in a kitchen towel. “Sam? Do you know where you are?” He thought he felt fingers, pressure on his wrist.

“I need to get out of here. Somebody followed me.” Poor Thomas. God.

“Detective Colletti is going to call me back in the morning.”

Thomas.

“Is he okay?” Thomas knelt by his chair. “Sam, are you okay?”

“He’s tachy, pulse is high. Not really focusing. I’m gonna guess he’s altered. Special K probably, maybe on the blade. A little goes a long way.”

“What? Are you kidding?”

“He keeps saying he has to go.”

“Oh, Sam.” A warm hand pressed into his cheek. “Sam, look here.”

“I’m sorry.” He forced himself to stay perfectly still, because this was going to hurt. “I brought this here somehow.”

He was going to have to leave.

“Stop, Sam. He might just as easily have followed me. Or us. It was probably both of us when we were moving James’s things and your things. This isn’t on you. But we’re going to catch him now. Colletti’s on it. He’ll call us in the morning.”

“Shit, this is a thing? Like it’s happened before?”

“Sam cut his hand a bunch of times in the other building. Even I did once. And whoever mugged him took James’s coat and nothing else. This is real, Angel. Really fucking real.”

“Oh, fuck.” Angel looked like thunderclouds were forming in his mind. “I can’t fucking believe it. Let me see your hand, Sammy.”

Sam looked to Thomas, frozen where he was. He’d known Thomas would agree that he should leave. That Thomas would say it wasn’t worth it.

“Yeah. He’s out of it.” Angel just took his hand.

“Sweetheart, I’m right here. I’ve got you; you’re safe, okay? Angel says there was something on that blade that’s got you a little…stoned.”

“I don’t suppose you know when his last tetanus shot was?”

He heard Thomas snort.

“I’m going to call Gina. She’s on tonight. He needs a tetanus shot and some stitches. Take some blood. It’ll take a few. You keep him here and calm.”

“I need to—I’m sorry.” And scared. What if this was punishment for falling in love with Thomas? What if this was all his fault?

“I’ve got him. I’m just going to take him to the couch. Hope Gina doesn’t mind my boxer briefs. Come on, sweetheart. Come with me.” Thomas pulled him out of the chair, but walking was hard, so he floated a little and landed on the couch in Thomas’s arms. “You need to relax and stop saying you’re sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Sam took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear his head, trying to focus.

Okay. Come on, Sam. Get with the program. Wake up. Focus. “I was going to take a shower.”

A shower, a bowl of cereal, snuggling.

“I thought he’d gotten in, gotten to you.”

“You were scared, huh? I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m fine. And you’ll be fine once this…shit…wears off. Colletti thinks this is good. He thinks we’ll catch him now.”

Thomas just held him still and close. It wasn’t snuggling, but it didn’t suck.

“I vote we electrify the doorknob.”

His words drew a harsh laugh from Angel.

“I like it, Sammy. Fry the motherfucker.”

“Security camera. There are some outside the building, a couple inside too. Maybe Colletti can get the recordings. We’ll put one on the door.” Thomas stroked his head, his back.

He felt the hint of ache, the buzz from where Thomas had marked him, and his body relaxed, his panicked thoughts slowing.

“Gina is on her way.”

***

His day with Thomas, work, the panic, the drugs—nobody was happier than he was when the EMTs quit poking at him and headed back out the door. Angel saw the paramedics out safe and promised to stop by the next day to check in.

Thomas locked the door, including securing a chain that he’d seen hanging but hadn’t seen Thomas use before. “You want that shower, babe?”

“I do. I smell like beer.” He stood up, telling himself he needed to act like a normal, functional human being, not a stoned, stitched-up, freaked-out asshole.

Thomas caught him under one arm with a smile. “You look a little like you’ve been drinking it.” They headed down the hall together, that arm through his sturdy and warm. “You need help? Or can you manage with that hand? Oh—or is that a dumb question because you’ve broken every bone in your body and somehow have managed to shower on your own for twenty-five years?”

“Almost twenty-six.” Did he need help? No. Did he want help? God, yes. There were terrors and guilt waiting in the back of his brain, and he didn’t want to be alone with them.

“God, you’re getting old. I better come help.” He got a kiss and a smile, and Thomas started helping him undress. “You do smell like beer. Wow.”

“It’s Saturday night. I had four thrown at me. It was great.”

Thomas just gave him a shake of the head.

He knew why his lover didn’t say anything, never did about the bar. It wasn’t disapproval, or a judgment on him. Thomas just didn’t like it. He hadn’t liked it from the start—since his initiation. But his lover seemed to understand that he needed the work and never asked him not to stay, never made a stink about his choices.

Thomas got the water hot and muscled him into the shower, then set his hand up on the tile to keep it dry.

He was already feeling less fuzzy—more tired and drained from the adrenaline rush, but those sensations he knew at least—and he just…well, he didn’t understand. Why him? Why James? Why them? Was it someone at the building? Someone he worked with at Mike’s? How could it be? James didn’t go to Mike’s, hadn’t ever. Someone at Thomas’s men’s club? Why him, then? No one knew about them, and Angel had just found out tonight.

Oh. Angel knew. He needed to apologize to Thomas about telling their secret. He also needed to remind Thomas that he wasn’t completely clear on all the rules and what was a secret and what wasn’t and, shit, Angel was a friend. A real friend. But still, he needed to figure out what was between them and the bedpost and what wasn’t.

Maybe he just needed a shot or twelve and a nap.

Was six thirty in the morning too late to start drinking?

“Earth to Sam. Give me your head. Where’d you go?” Thomas started scrubbing shampoo into his hair and massaging his scalp. Oh. Thomas was actually in the shower. Like, in it with him.

“I was caught in my brain.” He hummed at the touch and leaned. He’d never done this—been with a lover in the shower. He didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“Mm-hm. I’ve made it my personal mission to get you out of your brain. Or at least into the fun part.” Thomas tipped his head back into the spray and scrubbed the soap out. “Like this. This is the fun part.”

“Yes, Sir.” He closed his eyes and let the world tighten to right here with Thomas. He should be worrying, but he was just wearing down.

“We are going to finish getting you cleaned up, and you’re going to go to bed. And you’re going to stay there until this darkness under your eyes goes away and you have color back in your face. So tell me who I talk to at the bar, because you’re not going in tonight.”

“Daddy Mike.” He answered without thought, without argument, because the idea of bed and Thomas and rest captured him.

“Good boy.” Thomas spent some time with him, running gentle, soapy hands over his skin just because he needed it, not asking or expecting anything from him but that he stay present. They toweled off, and they both had a laugh as Thomas combed his hair. “This is a new one for me. Fun, but new.”

“Me too. My first shower with a lover.” He was living in a world of firsts.

“Really?” A kiss caught him by surprise, and Thomas winked. “You got ripped off. I’ll make it much more fun next time.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m not feeling like Super Fun Boy right now.” He tried for a smile. “Angel offered me a ride home; he does most nights. I told him I was staying here. He was shocked, and I didn’t realize I maybe shouldn’t have said anything. If I wasn’t supposed to, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that he gets you home safely, especially tonight. Why shouldn’t you say anything? Are you worried about your job or something?”

“No. No, he just seemed like…” He closed his eyes as he tried to remember. “Like he was surprised. He offered me his spare room.”

“Hey.” Thomas took his hands, leading him back into the bedroom. “I’m proud of you as my sub, and I’m happy to show you off as my lover to anyone who is looking my way. Will some people be put off by it? Maybe, but it’s really none of their affair. Angel probably seemed shocked because the last he knew we were still essentially negotiating. You and I have grown together very quickly, and I just haven’t spoken to him since you moved in. That’s all. He didn’t know because I hadn’t had a chance to say anything, not because I don’t want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

“Good.” He leaned in, filling his senses with Thomas, letting it soothe the sore spots, let Thomas in to the tender bits that needed loving on. “I felt you with me, all night.”

Oh, Thomas liked that. That little growl, deep in his chest said it all. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Sir.” He let Thomas settle him, propping him up and around with pillows and Thomas’s body until he could melt into the comfort. A deep sigh escaped him.

“You sleep and trust that I’ve got this. I’ve got you.” Thomas kissed him lightly. “Rest.”

“Got me.” He was gone before he could kiss Thomas back.

Title: Razor's Edge
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B083F4VR98

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Making a Mark, Triskelion Book #2

September 25, 2021 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Triskelion Series #2
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, Novel
Release Date: October 5, 2021
Pages: 332

When Troy and Saul became lovers, they worried about a lot of things. There was their age gap, their younger Dom-older sub relationship, and Troy’s health, which was made worse by job stress. They managed all that and more with a deep commitment, and with a lot of help from Troy’s longtime best friends, fellow Dom and sub couple Carter and Geoff.

In fact, Saul seems to be what all three of the other men need to see what’s been there all along, and to provide the balance they need to deepen their relationship in a very meaningful way. They’ve already made their marks on each other’s hearts. Now it’s time to start living the life they’ve all been dreaming of.

Nothing is ever perfect or easy, though, and they all have to shift their perceptions. Geoff has to come to terms with his need for submission and desire to dominate Troy, and Carter must redefine the two most important relationships in his life. Troy struggles to understand why Geoff and Carter want this with him now, after years of watching from the outside. And Saul has to create a whole new definition of family. Can they all break the rules again and become something more special than they can even imagine?

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Chapter One

“You want something to eat, or do you want to go straight home and sit in the hot tub, baby?” Carter Lee didn’t care, to be honest. He just wanted to get his ass somewhere and process what the fuck had just happened.

More than that, he wanted to see what his husband had to say.

Twenty-five years he and Geoff had been together, Dom and sub from minute one, and while they had experimented together more than once, they’d never acknowledged that Geoff was a switch.

“I’m not hungry. Take me home?” Geoff leaned into him and massaged one palm thoughtfully, bangs still damp from his long tattoo session with Troy.

“You got it.” Home wasn’t too far up the mountain, but it wasn’t the first time he wondered if they shouldn’t have bought down in Boulder like their best friend Troy. They’d chosen to renovate an old house they found away from their businesses so that they could leave Geoff’s tattoo parlor and his diner behind when they weren’t working.

“Mmm. Good to me.” Geoff kissed his neck. “I’ll lock up.”

The ride home was nearly silent. He assumed Geoff was processing the session as much as he was. That was fine; they’d climb into their hot tub and talk there. But instead of heading straight out to the deck when they got home, Geoff headed for the kitchen.

“Smoothie? I’m thinking peach. Want one?”

“Sure. I’ll start the water bubbling. I’ll meet you out there.” It wasn’t a request. They needed to chat, process, decompress.

“Yes, sir.”

Geoff accepted the order as it was intended, and a few minutes later, he appeared with two smoothies, garnished with lime and raspberries and fat, colorful straws.

“Look at that. They look amazing.” Carter had to grin. Geoff made him happy—always had, always would. “You sure you don’t want to open a smoothie bar, babe? Yours are the best.”

“These are only for you, love.” Geoff winked and set the smoothies down, grabbed a couple of towels out of an outdoor storage bin, stripped quickly and then stepped into the tub to get out of the cold air.

Carter made sure their robes were in the outdoor warmer and turned the lights down before he climbed into the water. Oh, this was the best thing they’d invested in for forever.

When they were settled, with hardly a hair between them, Geoff handed him a smoothie. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” He took a sip, the peach bright and sweet. He waited for Geoff to finish his sip and then he grabbed his boy, dragging him close for a kiss.

“Mmm.” Geoff set his drink down hard on the edge of the tub and opened to his kiss with a sweet moan, molding into him, hands fluttering against his shoulders.

Carter managed to put his smoothie down so he could grab his boy and take what he needed. Watching Geoff ink Troy had been hot, and making out with Troy’s Master? That had revved him up.

Geoff managed a loud, surprised sound against his lips, and practiced fingers dove into the warm water, wrapping around his stiff prick.

Hell yes. He wrapped his hand in Geoff’s hair, keeping his boy where he wanted him so he could plunder the sweet mouth.

His boy’s hand sped, nothing subtle about the way Geoff worked to get him off, thumb sweeping heavily on every upward stroke.

“Fuck.” Carter grunted, his fingers curling into fists. “More.”

Show me what you have, boy.

“I watched you kissing Saul, Master,” Geoff whispered in his ear, pressure and friction relentless. “You were beautiful together.”

“It was time.” And soon it would be Geoff’s turn to kiss Troy. It had been on Geoff’s mind for years.

“And this? Is it time now?” Geoff’s thumb burrowed through his slit. “Will you stand up, Master? So I can taste you? Please?”

“Fuck, boy, you beg so pretty.” Carter took another kiss, intending to make Geoff wild and hungry before he pulled himself up out of the water, the cold air slapping his wet skin.

Geoff clearly didn’t intend to leave him in the cold long; the boy knelt in the water, that hungry mouth taking him in, heat and suction just right. His boy’s fingers dug into his ass, keeping him close and making it hard to move. He put one hand on Geoff’s head—not holding on but keeping them connected. The hot water licked at his thighs, the steam filling the air and making it look otherworldly.

He knew he was everything in Geoff’s world right now. The boy’s focus was completely on him, his need. Whatever he wanted. Geoff could get completely lost if he allowed it, and right now, as his nipples grew hard in the cold air and everything below the belt was on fire, it was tempting. But Geoff took him in deep and swallowed, the sensation rippling up his shaft as his body went tight.

“Boy!” he barked out a warning, because after watching Geoff with Troy and kissing Saul, he’d already been close to the edge. His boy knew him, knew what he liked, and Carter arched, pressed deep, and shot down Geoff’s willing throat.

His boy’s sounds were muffled and muted as Geoff sucked down everything he had to offer. “Master.” Then Geoff lapped at him, licked and sucked along his spent shaft, sending aftershocks through him, making his knees weak.

“Damn, boy.” He blinked for a second, trying to clear his head. “I may have to keep you.”

“If you must. I guess that would be okay.” Geoff coaxed him back down into the warm water and snuggled in. “You’re not going to ask me to sit by your feet while you work all day again, though, are you? Not. Happening.”

He pinched one little nipple, laughing softly. “Don’t make me put you over my knee, boy.”

Because he would, as soon as his bones solidified again, anyway.

“Ow. Don’t fuss, sir,” his boy teased. “You’ll lose your buzz.”

“Mmm. I don’t want that.” He wrapped his boy in his arms. He’d get Geoff off, but he could take it slow now. “You did good work tonight.”

“Oh!” Geoff beamed at him proudly. “Did you like it? I spent a lot of time thinking about how to make it work. I think Troy was happy.”

“I think so too. He floated out the door.”

Geoff reached for their smoothies and handed his over. “It gets to be this really intimate thing. The first few minutes, it’s just like any other session, but then the way that Troy…” Geoff sighed and sipped his drink thoughtfully. “I don’t even know how to explain it. He has this energy, and it is about the pain but it’s also about the ink. It has a purpose, you know? And he craves that connection. It’s not him or me anymore; it’s us. We’re in it together. That’s what makes it addicting, and that’s what gets me high. He just turns his body over to me. He trusts me. He’s… for a little while, he’s mine.”

His boy blinked the faraway stare out of his eyes and glanced at him. “Wow. Sorry. I kind of babbled there.”

“Good. Your honesty honors me, and I want us to share your experience together.” He reached up, cupped Geoff’s jaw, thumb rubbing his boy’s bottom lip.

“I’m just relieved that you’re a part of it again. It was too hard to think about giving it up, but I always felt guilty the day after. I never wanted to make you jealous or think…” Geoff bit that lip, still swollen from his kisses. “I love you.”

“Boy.” Carter waited patiently for Geoff to look at him, easing that bottom lip from between his teeth. “I have never doubted you. You are my boy, balls to bones.”

“I am. Thank you, sir.” Geoff swallowed and nuzzled into his neck. His boy’s anxiety was something they still dealt with to some extent, but he’d learned over the years how to handle it. What to say and how to say it.

He held on, loving the contrast between hot water, cold peach, bubbling liquid, and smooth skin.

“Did you like having Saul there?”

Carter chuckled—softly at first, but the sound grew into a warm, full laugh. “Oh, babe. That was fun. I haven’t played with another Dom since…was it Rick and Tony we played with on the cruise?”

“Yeah, remember that? That was a while ago. But kissing is tame compared to that cruise.” Geoff sat back and sipped his smoothie, giggling. “And I still want to know how you and Rick figured out which of you outranked who.”

Shit, so did he. Making out with Rick had been like having a fight with a rabid grizzly bear.

“Dom secrets, of course.”

“Oh. Of course.” Geoff laughed harder. “Dom secrets. I wonder if Saul knows the same secrets? I can’t say that Troy and I do. But then we haven’t talked about that yet. We will though. I’m happy with this whole thing.”

“Good. Troy really was floating.” He put his drink down and reached beneath the water to cup Geoff’s prick. “So were you.”

Geoff gasped softly and gingerly set his own drink down too. “I was. I am still, sir. Some.”

“Yes. Was it hard not to touch Troy? To kiss him?” He knew how much Geoff was affected by his words, by his voice.

Geoff nodded slowly, prick filling fully in his fingers. “It’s always a temptation, sir. I’ve never told him that though.”

“You can now.” He rubbed their cheeks together as he wrapped his fingers around Geoff’s shaft. He was still getting his head around their new relationship with Saul and Troy. He knew that Geoff and Troy already had a power-play arrangement between them that was intrinsic to the tattoo sessions, but he’d never imagined himself agreeing to such a thing in the past. Saul had changed all of them. “What do you want to do first, boy?”

“I…” Geoff sighed in his ear, hips arching into his hand. “I want to kiss him, sir. Just lightly, something… sweet. I want to give him something that doesn’t hurt.” His boy’s words were so sincere.

“You’ve given him pain and beauty, hmm? Now it’s time for pleasure? Such a thoughtful boy.” Carter kept his touches light, steady—not teasing, but not at all frantic.

“And I—" His boy flicked his eyes away. Oh, that blush was something. Deep pink and the color ran long, right over the boy’s throat.

He followed the line of throat with his lips, threatening with his teeth. “And you?”

“I… Oh, sir.” Geoff arched to his mouth. “That. I want to taste him. Taste his ink.”

“Your mouth is magical. You’ll make him lose his mind, boy.” He nibbled his way down to Geoff’s shoulder. “And what do you want from him, boy? Do you want him on his knees?”

Geoff groaned. “God. I’ve never let myself think about that, but… I think I do.”

“Mmm…” He thought he did too. While he was laying down stripes, maybe, or while Saul was fucking Troy. “You get to play with him once a month, boy. Plenty of time to plan a scene.”

He bit down on the ball of Geoff’s shoulder, making his boy whimper and buck into his hand. “Together,” Geoff said, panting, that soft voice tight. “We’ll plan it together.”

“Together. My favorite word.” He tightened his hand, driving Geoff that much higher. “I’d love to fuck you while you fuck his mouth, boy.”

“Oh!” Geoff rocked against him, that pretty mouth going slack as his boy shot for him. “Fuck! Sir!”

“Mmhmm.” Oh, very nice. Carter loosened his grip, encouraging the aftershocks to go on and on.

“Sir. Thank you, sir.” Geoff found his mouth and kissed him between the panting and soft moans. When his boy finally relaxed, they sank back against the side of the tub together.

“I love you, boy.” He kissed Geoff’s temple and handed his boy one of the smoothies.

“I love you too.” Geoff took a long sip. “Do you think they’ll go for it?”

“I have no doubt.” He grinned over. “Also, that’s one more swat for cursing.”

Title: Making a Mark
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09GX963VV
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-64-2

Making the Rules

September 9, 2022 by

Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Triskelion Series #3
Genre: BDSM, Co-Authored, Contemporary, Gay, MMMM, Novel
Release Date: October 4, 2022

The rules keep changing as Saul and Troy and their good friends and lovers Geoff and Carter are figuring out how they all fit together in their evolving relationship. Subs Geoff and Troy test the limits of both their friendship and their Doms’ patience as they discover new things about each other, and Doms Carter and Saul wrestle with how to be the men their subs need and become lovers in their own right.

As they all push boundaries trying to decide how to move forward, Troy begins to feel like he’s constantly one step behind, and he’s having trouble keeping up with everyone else. He’s already unsure how much more change he can accept, so when a tragedy strikes, it threatens to completely overwhelm him.

Geoff, Carter, and Saul all come together to help Troy cope, and to figure out what he needs. But what they all soon discover is they have to understand what they each desire, and that making the rules is all about that balance.

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Also in this series:

Chapter One

Stuffed mushrooms were a pain in the ass. They smelled weird when they were cooking. They either went wet or dry when they sat. No matter what Troy did, they sucked.

They sucked, and Carter loved them with the fiery burning passion of a thousand suns, so Troy made them.

He made them for Carter’s birthday. For Geoff’s birthday. For Carter and Geoff’s anniversary. Now he was making them for New Year’s Eve.

Again.

It must be love.

“Is the dishwasher done yet, honey?” Geoff came swooping into the kitchen and dragged a hand across Troy’s ass as he walked by. “Carter wants me to put the bar glasses out. He’s micromanaging. Consider yourself warned.”

“Can’t you go suck him off or something?” he whispered, meeting Geoff’s eyes with a wink, making sure neither Carter nor Saul could hear.

“Right? He won’t sit still. Saul is on it. He’s trying to tempt Carter into the hot tub.” That might work, get the Doms out of their hair. It wasn’t like either of them was really helping.

Well, Saul had set the tables up and helped move the furniture around. And Carter…must have done something useful.

“Oh, it is done, yay.” Geoff opened the dishwasher and started pulling out all the glassware and dishes they’d thrown in. A lot of that stuff sat from party to party, so it needed a refresh. “Do I smell mushrooms?”

“You do. You know how Carter loves them.” He’d made Geoff his cheese ball and Saul sausage balls. He had Lit’l Smokies, pinwheels, French onion dip, queso. They were going to have a great party.

“What are you going to wear?” He should have known that question was coming. Geoff had probably had his outfit picked out for a month. “You have Saul now. You’ll have to come out and play and be social instead of hiding in the kitchen this year, you know.”

“When did we make that rule?” He not only had Master Saul, but Carter and Geoff as well.

“Did you miss that meeting? It’s a rule.” Geoff closed the dishwasher. “You need to look like you’re going to a party, lover. End of subject. I want to see you dress up.”

“I have jeans and a clean T-shirt?” He knew teasing was going to rile Geoff up, but it was probably worth it.

Geoff clucked at him and shook his head. “Is that all you brought? I can’t believe Saul would allow that. Ugh.” Such a disgusted sound. Pretty damn funny.

“My ugly Christmas sweater?” He grinned across the kitchen.

Geoff’s eyes went wide. “Troy Finch! You are in deep trouble.” Geoff marched over and got right in his face, but his lover wasn’t angry, Geoff was flirting. “Naughty. I’m going to tell Saul. Unless you can convince me not to.”

“No. No, anything but that!” He laughed softly, rubbing their noses together. “I could distract you.”

It was Geoff’s fingers, tracing his ink, the tattoo artist knowing every single inch of him—that was distracting.

“Boys.” Saul’s tone was indulgent but firm. “No distractions. Geoff, please take the bar glasses out before that little vein by Carter’s temple explodes? I’ve convinced him to start up the hot tub, but I promised I’d make sure you took care of that for him.”

“Yes, sir. And thank you, sir.” Geoff winked at Troy and pulled a tray out of a cabinet to load up with glasses.

“My pleasure, boy. You were right; he needs to relax.” Saul stepped right into the space Geoff had just left, keeping Troy pinned with the counter at his back and took a kiss. “Smells good. You’re working hard.”

“Cooking is, apparently, my thing.” Cooking, yoga, and loving on people. It was a thing.

“Carter says you and Geoff usually do all the cooking for New Year’s on your own. But in a couple of hours—” Saul hooked a finger in his belt and tugged on it. “—we’re going to take a shower and then you’re going to put on those jeans I like your ass in.”

“Am I?” God, he loved this—playing, laughing, teasing. “Not the baggy ones?”

“Save those for Carter.” Saul grinned and gave him one of those heavy kisses—the ones that made sure he knew who he belonged to. “See you after my soak, boy.” Saul grabbed a couple of bottles of water on the way out of the kitchen.

“Love you, Master.” Turd. Leaving him to cook. He laughed softly, at himself, at the universe.

“Okay, Saul gave me a smug little peck on the way out to the deck. What’s his deal? And what’s so funny?” Geoff came back from the living room with an empty tray and put it back where it came from.

“Oh, he was leaving to soak while I slave away.” He winked and kissed Geoff’s cheek. “I was just happy.”

“Rubbing it in, huh? We don’t want those two in our hair anyway, honey.” Geoff peeked into the oven. “Did I tell you that Saul and I talked about your ink? The one to match the rest of us?”

Troy was the last of the four of them to get the circular tattoo of the four elements that Geoff had originally created for Carter. The one that represented their foursome. Carter’s was on his arm, Saul’s on his chest, and Geoff’s on his thigh. But Troy was covered in ink, nearly every inch, head-to-toe except a couple of private places.

“He says your ass is out. He says only his marks get to go there.”

“Oh. Oh, I just assumed—” Where else would it go? Maybe his master just wanted him to… he wasn’t sure. Weird. His ass was the best space.

“He suggested right here.” Geoff touched the side of his neck below his ear.

“Everyone would be able to see it, admire it.” He didn’t mind that idea at all. It would burn like a stone-cold bitch, but he’d survived that. A lot.

“Sounds like a Saul move to me. I told him it would hurt. He kind of shrugged at me.” Geoff grinned at him. “He knows what he wants, huh?”

“He does.” Troy knew what he wanted, and that was his Master, his lovers, his friends. Suddenly, he had been moved from right outside the circle where everyone was to smack dab in the center of it.

“You think we’ll do a scene soon? I mean a real one, all four of us? I asked Carter, and he said he and Saul… would discuss it.” Geoff did a fair impression of Carter on that last bit.

“I think so, yeah.” Saul had been talking about it—talking hard, to be honest. Saul seemed to think that he was a prude, somehow, which he really wasn’t. Of course, he liked the attention, the careful encouragement, the petting, so he soaked it in.

“I’d love to feel his arm. I wonder how different it would be than Carter’s. Is that weird? Do you think about those things too?” Geoff was keeping busy while they talked, finding serving dishes and clearing room in the fridge for the food he was making.

He didn’t know how to answer that. Had he fantasized over the last twenty years? Sure. Had he eventually stopped because it didn’t matter, since they were never going to want him like he wanted them? Absolutely. And then that brought up the certainty that without Saul, they wouldn’t want him now, and that was more than he wanted to worry about. “I do.”

“Oh. What’s the matter, honey?” Geoff came right to him and rested a hand on his chest. “Does it worry you?”

“No. I trust all y’all.” That wasn’t an issue, not at all.

Geoff smiled that sunny smile for him. It was good that his lover didn’t seem at all anxious despite the company and the party coming. Geoff had seemed more relaxed lately in general. “Good. We trust you too.” He got a quick kiss. “You’d better check the oven.”

“I’m on it. Are you going to soak with them?” He didn’t have time, not if he was going to make things perfect.

“No, I’m helping you. I’m not leaving you to this insanity by yourself. You just tell me what you need me to do.”

“How long ’til folks start showing up?”

“We have…” Geoff looked at the clock over the sink. “Three hours. And Masters are going to want to get cleaned up. I know how Carter is before these things. He’ll want me to get him dressed.”

That made him smile. “Maybe you should dress them both. Make sure Master Saul is all glossy.”

He pulled out the mushrooms so they could cool and grabbed the puff pastry from the fridge.

“As if he’d allow that. I’ve seen how he’s watching you today.” Geoff’s tone was suggestive.

“You think?” Troy let himself feel that—the pride, the pleasure. “I’m used to hanging out in the kitchen for this party, you know.”

“Not this party. Not anymore. We’ll all help; it will be fine. I’m looking forward to having you out there, showing you off a little.” Geoff drew a finger down his chest. “You’re mine too, now, you know.”

“I do. I think, in a lot of ways, I was yours first.” His nipples went hard so fast his rings jumped.

Geoff’s cheeks blushed dark, but the look on his lover’s face was so serious. “I think so too. I think… if we look at it the way we maybe should have all along, that we’ve had this for a long time. I just… couldn’t…” Geoff shrugged and leaned in close, pressing him against the refrigerator. “I can now.”

He arched hard into Geoff’s lean strength, eyes going wide from the sudden cold at his back. Fuck, he loved them—all of them.

Geoff took his hands, pinned them gently above his head and kissed him like he was loved back. It was hot, sure; everything about Geoff had a little sex brewing under it, but it was more too. Kind and honest. Giving more than Geoff took, even while clearly asking for his submission.

That he could give, and he moaned, the sound buzzing in their kiss. His body responded eagerly, his belly and balls going tight.

“Is anything gonna to burn while you blow me?” Geoff whispered against his lips.

He groaned softly, his eyelids going so droopy as a rush of need hit him. “Everything’s out. We’re safe.”

Geoff let his hands go, took another quick kiss before pressing down heavily on one shoulder. He had a little room but not much, so he had to slide down with his back braced against the chilly stainless steel fridge. “God, Troy. Look at you.”

“Want you. Please, Geoff, I need you.” He nuzzled Geoff’s cock through his soft pants, open-mouthed. Geoff smelled so good—soap and musk and mint and him.

“What are you two doing?” Carter’s voice was a deep, husky rumble.

Geoff’s fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him right where he was. He couldn’t see his lover’s face, but Geoff’s tone was playful. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He opened his mouth and exhaled against Geoff’s balls.

“Troy is—oh. God.” Geoff rocked into him and back again. “Polishing my zipper, Sir.”

He groaned softly and pressed his lips against the base of Geoff’s cock. He needed skin. He wanted that heavy cock.

“Did you get Master Saul’s permission, boy?” Carter’s fingers were suddenly at Geoff’s fly, slowly lowering the zipper.

“N…no, Sir.” Geoff tugged on his hair.

Carter caught Geoff’s length in one hand as he freed it. “Naughty boys.”

“Please, Sir.”

“You want this, Troy?”

“Yes, Master Carter. I need y’all.” He could suck them both, in fact. Together.

“And to think, all I wanted was a beer.” Carter tapped his lips with Geoff’s prick, and when he opened up, Carter leaned into Geoff hips, pushing Geoff inside.

Geoff gasped. “Troy! Sir!”

Carter growled. “Don’t play around, boy. Make him come.”

Troy could do that. In fact, he could more than do it. He was good at it. He wrapped his lips around the base of Geoff’s prick, swallowing over and over as he lashed the shaft with his tongue.

Geoff wasn’t quiet—ever, but especially now. His lover shouted his name, and he heard at least a handful of curse words between the wild groans. Carter was talking low, and he knew it had to be filthy. The two of them had Geoff gulping air and standing on trembling legs in the blink of an eye.

“Can’t—oh, fuck. Troy! Gonna…”

“That’s eight, boy.” Carter’s voice was stern and rock steady.

“Motherfucker.”

“Nine.”

Troy grabbed Geoff’s ass and pulled him in hard. Shut up, lover, or your ass will be on fire.

Carter caught Geoff as his lover’s knees gave out. Geoff didn’t shut up, but what did come out as Geoff shot hot liquid down Troy’s throat was so unintelligible his Master wouldn’t be able to fault him for it.

Troy groaned softly, easing up to give his lover all the pleasure, all the aftershocks he could.

“Good boys. So good.” Carter’s voice was like a caress now, pouring down over him. Warm fingers curled under his chin, coaxing him to stand up. “Come and kiss me, boy.”

He moaned softly, drawn to Carter. They all made him feel drunk with their attention.

Carter’s kiss was intense, focused on him even as he held Geoff close, and Carter hummed to him as the kiss ended. “Mmm. You taste like my other boy.”

“Your boy is amazing.” He licked his lips, tasting Carter and Geoff together.

Carter cupped his chin and caught his eyes. “Now, go on out to your Master and tell him what you and Geoff were up to when I walked in. Explain that I am going to take a minute with Geoff, and I’ll be out with his beer shortly. Grab a coat; it’s cold out there.”

“Yes, Sir.” He wasn’t worried. Master Saul would understand. He had faith.

He slipped on his house shoes and a hoodie, then popped out on the snowy deck. “Master?”

Saul picked his head up from where he’d been relaxing, lying back in the hot tub. It was damn cold out, but his Master had a damp little curl stuck to his forehead. “Boy? Is everything all right?”

“Yes, Sir. Master Carter asked me to tell you I gave Geoff a blow job, and that he was bringing your beer soon.” God, his Master was beautiful. Genuinely beautiful. He was fucking lucky.

“Ooh. Naughty. A blow job without permission? That’s living dangerously.” Saul grinned at him. “The two of them were wound up like tops. I’m sure Geoff feels much better now.”

“Yes, Master.” He wrapped his arms around himself. Jesus, it was bitter out here. “Do you need anything but your beer?”

Saul sat up. “You’re freezing, boy. Grab my robe from the warmer.”

“I’m fine. I’ll head in.” He didn’t want to steal his Master’s warmth. “You’ll need it more than me.”

Saul laughed. “It’s for me, boy. I’m taking you back inside.”

“Oh!” His cheeks went bright red and hot. “Lord, Master, I’m sorry.” He hurried to grab Saul’s robe.

He got Saul wrapped up and into shoes, and they hurried back together, both of them giggling by the time they got inside the house.

“Okay, it’s cold as fuck when you’re not in that tub. Jesus.” Saul’s teeth were chattering.

Carter clucked at them from the couch where he was sitting with a magazine and Geoff was bare-assed and draped over the arm. “Honestly, Saul.”

“What can I do, Master?” What do you need? God, Geoff was pretty.

Saul looked at Carter. “Don’t be such a grump, Old Man. Am I right, Troy?” Saul tugged him in and kissed him. “You should probably finish up in the kitchen, boy, so we can get our shower.”

“If you weren’t a Dom, I’d take you over my knee, too, kid.”

“I’m all set up, Master. It’s just assembling now.” He wrapped around his Master, offering his warmth and protecting Saul’s perfect ass.

Carter snorted and shot him a look. “You’re not safe, boy.”

“No, Sir.” He wasn’t worried. Saul had him.

“Mmm. No. Not safe at all.” Saul laughed and blew Carter a kiss. “Come on, boy. These two look busy.”

Saul led him up the stairs to the bedroom with its enormous bed for four. It was still technically Carter and Geoff’s room because he and Saul had their own place closer to downtown, but more and more, Saul had been suggesting they sleep here. They would definitely be staying tonight, and as tomorrow was a holiday and the diner was closed, he suspected they’d be staying tomorrow night too.

As he followed his Master, he felt the world getting farther away, the constant noise and worries sliding from his consciousness and slipping away, leaving his focus on his heartbeat, his Master.

“Undress and start the shower, please.” Saul picked up their duffel and tossed it on the bed.

“Yes, Master.” He stripped off his filthy T-shirt as he kicked off his house shoes. “You never did get your beer.”

Troy skinned out of his pants and briefs before starting the water running.

“It’s all good. It was meant more as a distraction for Master Carter, and then he never actually got into the hot tub with me. I think he and Geoff are both happier right where they are.” Saul’s fingers brushed his sides and his Master kissed him between the shoulders. “We have more time this way.”

He hummed, his happiness too big to hold in. Saul didn’t want his silence anyway. “That’s happy-making right there, Master.”

“Mhm. I think so too.” Saul reached out and tested the water temp. “So tell me about this party. Carter hasn’t said much about what to expect.”

“Everyone comes—there’s food, drink, music, dancing. The lights stay low. At midnight, there’s kissing. Sometimes people disappear into the shadows to make love.” This would be his first time, too, in a bunch of ways.

Saul pulled him into the shower, under the spray, and smoothed the hot water through his hair. “Sounds like a perfect evening. Will you dance with me?”

“I will. I haven’t danced in a long time, but I’d love to.” He arched under the spray, Saul’s hands fascinating him, making him want to just follow them wherever they led.

“Me neither. It’ll be fun.” Saul started working shampoo into his hair. “What did you used to do at midnight? Did you kiss anyone?”

“No, Sir. I spend this party in the kitchen.” He wasn’t whining. He hid at midnight because it hurt, to know that he was alone, that Arnie was gone, and he was just…a short-order cook.

“Spent. You may have spent this party in the kitchen before, but not this year.” Saul rinsed the soap out of his hair, and Troy watched the suds splash onto that smooth chest and slide down over his Master’s navel. “This year, you’re with us. With me. We’re going to eat and drink and dance. And you’re going to have a line of people who love you to kiss at midnight.”

“Yes, Sir.” He let the satisfaction show in his face and his voice. “I’m excited. I want to—I want to feel all the good parts.”

“So many good parts.” Saul slid wet hands over his abs, through his curls at the base of his cock and lower to cradle his heavy balls in one hand. “It’s not midnight, but I’m going to kiss you anyway.”

His eyes rolled, that pressure perfect, and he forced himself to focus, to relax and breathe.

“Geoff got you a little wound up, did he, boy?” He didn’t get a chance to answer. Instead, he got that kiss, Saul’s other hand hooking tight behind his neck and holding him still. His Master’s tongue pressed past his lips and slid along his own, momentarily cutting off his air. One of his hands found Saul’s sweet ass, the firm cheek fitting in his palm perfectly.

Saul wasn’t jealous, but his Master sure got fired up when Troy was with Geoff or Carter. He actually thought it was kind of a turn-on for Saul, getting to take him back, remind him who his Master was. It revved Saul up a little. Maybe more than a little.

Saul broke off the kiss and looked at him, eyes bright and focused, fingers stroking him firmly. “Let’s get that edge off before the party, baby.”

“Master.” Fuck, that felt so good. Saul knew every inch of his body, knew that he liked a firm touch, a lot of play at the tip. It was better than touching himself, because Saul always took him farther than he could take himself.

Master or no, Saul slipped to his knees and took his ass in both hands, moving him slightly out of the flow so the water rained down his back. Saul took the head of his cock in, teasing his slit with a hungry tongue.

Troy spread, his eyes rolling as he arched up, his hips rocking the barest bit. He could see stars like this, his world tightening to the places where his skin met Saul’s.

“Mmm.” Saul let him move and took him in deeper, flat tongue rubbing up and down his shaft. Those hands kept a good grip on his ass, fingers sinking even more into muscle.

He clenched and relaxed, the pressure of Saul’s fingers pushed him that much deeper. Troy groaned and spread a little wider, knowing that he had to look like a slut, and not caring a bit.

Saul’s hands shifted and spread his cheeks so Saul’s fingers could find his entrance. They slid easily in the stream of water over his hole and beyond it, where Saul nudged and shifted his piercings.

“God yes.” He braced himself, moving between mouth and hands, his eyes rolled back into his head. Luckiest bastard ever.

That little bit of encouragement must have been what Saul had been waiting for. Saul hummed around him, angled just so, and was suddenly bottomless, letting him slide in as far as he could. A breath later, those fingers pushed right inside him, until he could feel Saul’s knuckles.

“Master! Love!” His own need shocked the hell out of him, his voice echoing on the tiles.

Saul swallowed and the hand holding his ass cheek let go and reached up to twist the fuck out of one stiff nipple. The sudden pain sent a searing shock straight to his balls.

“Fuck!” he roared, shooting right down Saul’s throat. His balls ached with the power of his orgasm, and he shuddered with his need.

Saul stayed right with him, meeting his energy at first and then gently coming down with him. Saul covered him with kisses and spoke softly, using words like beautiful, loved, treasured, and… “So fucking hot, baby.”

Saul stood close, kissing along the line of his jaw. “Love you.”

“Love you. God, you make me happy.” He leaned their foreheads together, not working terribly hard to gather his thoughts. “Wow.”

Saul leaned back, fingers gliding over his skin. “Good. I want you to be happy and feeling good. You sound pretty damn good.” Saul took a light kiss.

“Do you need me?” He never knew. Saul always surprised him. It kept him young and focused.

“Always, but I think I want to keep my edge until after midnight.” Saul switched with him, ducking under the spray.

He grabbed the soap and washed his Master, enjoying the slide of his hands over Saul’s skin. His Master obviously enjoyed all the attention, too, offering him appreciative hums and soft sighs. Saul was half-hard; he could easily tease that happy cock to fullness if his Master wanted him to. Keeping an edge for later probably meant some kind of late-night scene.

Geoff was angling for that, too, he thought. The four of them together. So… new.

“Towels please, boy.” Saul rinsed clean and shut the water off. “If you have any worries about tonight, you should tell me.”

“What?” Did he look worried? Was he acting weird?

He grabbed a towel and handed it over before getting one of his own.

“It was just a question, boy.” Saul took the towel and started drying off, bare feet leaving wet prints on the bathmat. “You said you’re usually in the kitchen, I just wanted to make sure.”

“It’s going to be weird, not feeling sad and alone. Is that strange? I won’t miss it. It’s just new.” And that made him sound like a loser, a little bit.

Saul wrapped the towel around narrow hips. “Twenty years of habit is hard to break, I bet. And new can be scary. We’ll figure it out together. Moment by moment.” Saul took Troy’s towel and wrapped it around his hips for him. “Remember what Carter always says? Just be honest.”

“Yes, Master. Honest I can do.” He thought so anyway. Sometimes, he hid his thoughts, but that was to protect all of them.

He got a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good boy. I think I left my razor in the—”

Saul opened the door to the bedroom, and Carter looked up from the book he was reading. Geoff was kneeling quietly by the bed, about as still as Troy had ever seen him.

“It’s about time. Some of us need showers too.” Carter grinned at them and put the book down. “Did you use all the hot water?”

“Every drop, boss.” Troy had to tease back, had to.

“Butthead. You ought to beat him.” Carter winked at Saul. “I have a hairbrush and my phone. I’ll videotape it.”

Saul snorted. “I’d rather have a video of you and Geoff in the shower.”

“I’d do it, Sir,” Geoff said quietly from the floor.

There was a second of stunned silence as Carter and Saul stared at each other. Troy could almost hear the whole conversation they were having with just that look. But Carter cracked up finally, and they all started to laugh like twelve-year-olds.

“Y’all are giant dorks. Hell, all of us are.” Troy rolled his eyes and fetched Saul his razor. “Go make yourselves all pretty.”

“Look who’s giving out orders.” His Master didn’t seem to care one bit. Saul plucked the razor from his fingers and headed back to the bathroom.

“You ready for a party, boy?” Carter rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. In the last hour, every one of his men had touched him with love.

“I am. I’m looking forward to it.” He leaned into the touch. “I made the mushrooms you love, boss.”

“I could smell them. Thank you, boy. Doc will appreciate it too. If you’re very good, I’ll let you feed me one later.”

He blinked at Carter, feeling his cheeks start to burn. “I’d like that.”

Everything Carter and Geoff did made him just a little high, and he needed Saul to ground him, make things real.

Carter gave him just the slightest hint of a knowing smile. “Good boy.”

“Baby-faced and good as new.” Saul interrupted, coming out of the bathroom. His Master’s voice seemed loud in his ears.

“It’s about damn time. Come on, boy.” Carter gestured to Geoff, who hopped to his feet.

“Yes, Sir.” Geoff followed Carter, shooting Troy a wink on the way by.

“You ready to dress me, boy?” Saul walked past him, in a totally different gear, and sat on the bed. “I brought leather.”

“Yes, Master. God yes.”

Title: Making the Rules
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09J18R5WK

Deviations: Submission

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Chapter 1

First Rodeo

Breaking the Rules

Just Dex

Hide Bound

Deviations: Domination

Razor’s Edge

Making a Mark, Triskelion Book #2

Making the Rules

The Wrecked Universe

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