Cowboys and Cupcakes

January 6, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Merry Everything Series #3
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: November 21, 2023

Cowboys and Cupcakes is an opposites attract, hurt/comfort romance featuring a wounded warrior who’s former bull rider, an eccentric pastry chef , and the magic of New York City at the holidays.

Baker Jax Martinez works odd hours making cupcakes and cookies in his New York apartment. It’s a skill he learned from his grandparents, who raised him in a bakery of their own, and he’s never wanted to do anything else. His strange schedule makes it hard to have friends and a social life, but he’s an introvert so the occasional Sunday dinner with his best friend January is enough for him.

Sawyer McMahon joined the army to leave behind everyone and everything he knew after losing the cowboy he loved in a horrific rodeo accident. After nearly losing his own life as a soldier overseas, he’s not sure what’s next for him. His old rodeo buddy Hawk Destry, who has had to deal with a disability of his own, offers Saw a place to stay for a while in New York and he takes it, hoping Hawk can help him get his recovery on track.

It’s an instant friendship when Jax finds an excuse to rescue Saw from an overwhelming moment, and they discover quickly that they want to be more. Their issues and quirks seem to fit together in a strange and complicated way, but neither of them has thought much beyond the present moment. Could they actually have a future together? Or are they destined to be just friends?

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Chapter 1 

 

Jax Martinez sat on the counter in his tiny kitchen and glared at Casper. They were supposed to be making profiteroles for Sunday, but the dough hadn’t really gotten doughy, and the eggs had made the mixture soppy instead of something he could squeeze through his pastry bag. What had happened? He didn’t get it. They’d made them a million times. 

Like, a million-million times. 

Maybe he put in too much butter? Maybe he didn’t cook it on the stove long enough. Maybe it was bad luck. 

He had a lot of bad luck. 

It was Saturday, and on Saturdays, he had pizza and watched a movie on TV. That had been his plan anyway, until the profiteroles didn’t work out. 

“What the hell, Casper?” He glared harder, wishing his food processor could actually understand how annoyed he was. It wouldn’t, of course, because it was an object and objects didn’t think at all, but they should know when they weren’t behaving the way he wanted them to. 

“You don’t love me anymore,” he said and hopped down off the counter. He didn’t expect a response. Food processors were kind of the strong silent types. “You can just sit there by yourself for a while and think about what you’ve done.” 

So there. 

He left the kitchen—which took him about three steps—and picked up his cell phone to order delivery. He’d have his pizza and then he’d clean up and try again later. He’d made lots of sweets at midnight, or at four in the morning. He liked baking in the middle of the night. 

Just as he was dialing, a doorbell sound rang, making him grin. That was his buddy Jan’s ringtone. January Bell. Dumb as hell but the pun made him giggle every time. He tapped on Jan’s text. 

Hawk is at the airport picking someone up. Want to come for dinner about six? 

Dinner? Surely Jan knew he was a very busy man and couldn’t just drop everything and go out for dinner. 

I could eat, he texted back and went to find his shoes. He just needed to clean up the kitchen. 

Wait. 

He stopped short outside his bedroom door. Hawk was at the airport? He looked at the text again, and then dialed Jan. 

Jan was laughing as he answered. “Did you forget how to get here?” 

“How is Hawk picking somebody up at the airport?” Hawk Destry was a former bull riding champion and the bravest guy Jax had ever met. Hot too. Jan was a lucky bastard. But Hawk didn’t see so well. As in the guy was legally blind. 

“Ever heard of a taxi? It’s this yellow thing that—” 

“Ha. Ha, ha.” Jax snorted. “By himself?” 

“Sure. He has Buck with him.” 

“You let him go alone.” Hawk’s service dog was smart as hell, but January wasn’t fooling him. 

“He’s a grown man, Jax. I didn’t let him do anything. He insisted.” Jan sounded a little defensive now. 

“Ah.” Uh-huh. Now he got it. 

“What?” 

“How worried are you?” 

Jan laughed. “Well, it’s his first time going to the airport alone. But I’m not really worried, I’m… I’m kind of—okay, I’m fucking worried.” 

“I’ll be right over.”

Title: Cowboys and Cupcakes
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CMJR8L33
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-92-5

Diamonds in the Rough

August 27, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #3
Genre: , , , , , , ,
Release Date: August 6, 2024

When Asher Allen heads west to become the nanny to a family in New Mexico for the summer, he’s expecting three kids who’ve lost their parents. He’s expecting to have to step in and save the day so their uncle, the cowboy who took them in, can get back to work on the family ranch. What he doesn’t expect is to fall so hard for New Mexico. And for his new boss.

Sebastian Martindale is about to give up and make a run for it when Ash arrives. His niece hates him, he never gets enough sleep, and he can’t juggle three small kids and the mountain of work that needs to get done. Despite his total exhaustion he’s skeptical when his mom hires a nanny, but once Ash shows up, Bastian isn’t sure how he’d managed without the man.

Together, Bastian and Ash have to navigate the children's grief, the first day of school, helping the kids understand they have a home right where they are, and falling for each other at the same time. Can they work it all out and polish up the diamonds in the rough they find?

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Chapter 1 

Holy fuck. This place looks like a hotel. 

Asher Allen drove past the rustic sign that read “Diamond M Ranch” and up the long driveway toward the main house. The closer he got, the bigger the house seemed, until he started to wonder if he was in the right place. 

Two floors, a thousand windows, a picture postcard view… 

Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore. 

What the hell had he gotten himself into? It had been a long trip from New York, and he was not at all ready for… whatever this place was. He took a couple of pictures with his phone and texted them to his best friend Max. 

<Made it. This is home for the next three months. Or it’s a cult. I guess we’ll see.> 

Two stories of white plaster. Huge balconies. Three trucks in the driveway. Great big windows. 

It was wild and absolutely not kid-friendly and— 

A little naked red-headed boy went running across the second-story balcony, followed by a screaming man holding a second naked little boy. 

Wow. 

Guess I’m in the right place after all. 

He popped the trunk and pulled out his suitcase, got his backpack from the back seat, stuffed his phone in his pocket, and headed for the front steps. He hauled everything onto the first-floor porch and knocked on the door. 

Then he rang the doorbell. 

And then knocked again. 

Asher decided the guy wasn’t coming to the door if he was busy chasing naked children around upstairs, so he let himself in. 

“Hello?” he called out. “It’s Ash. Asher Allen. The nanny?” 

A young girl with hair as black as night—Samantha, if he remembered correctly—peered at him from the top of the stairs. “Are you here to take us back to Connecticut?” 

She was adorable, with big eyes, and her long hair was pulled back in a hairband. “No, I’m sorry. I’m here to help you get settled in New Mexico though. Are you Samantha?” 

“Uh-huh. Uncle Bastian is going to dunk my brothers in the tub. If he can catch Will. Walt is slower.” 

“Maybe I can help.” He left his things at the bottom of the stairs and made his way up. “Is there a trick to catching him that I should know? I bet you know all the tricks.” 

“I do. He likes to play freeze dance.” 

“Who are you talking to, girl? Is someone here?” The voice was stressed, full of a near-desperate edge. 

“Asher Allen, your nanny.” He climbed the rest of the stairs to meet his employer. The guy had such a great name. Sebastian. How dignified was that? 

“Oh. Shit. I—” A cowboy in jeans, boots, and a soaking wet T-shirt stood there with two dripping little boys in his arms. “Hey. Bastian Martindale. I assume you been talking to my mama, Stella?” 

Bastian. Okay, then. “I think so, yes. She was working with my agency. What can I do?” 

“I—” The man blinked for a second. “I don’t know. What can you do?” 

“Let him take us back to Connecticut,” the little girl snapped. 

“Sam. You’re not going anywhere.” 

Ash had his eyes and ears open. He knew very few details about what had happened, but he knew the family was grieving. This had to be so hard for these kids, especially Samantha, at her age. 

Bastian was carrying both boys now. It seemed like that game of freeze dance wasn’t going to be necessary, but he filed it away for next time. 

With boys, there was always a next time. 

“Bath time?” 

“The water is run in the big tub. You’d think they’d like it, but they fight every inch.” 

“No!” one screamed. 

As the other went, “No baf!” 

He reached out and took one of the boys from Bastian. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Will.” 

“Oh, you’re the fast one. I’ve heard about you. I love a bath. You sure you don’t want one? I can totally go enjoy the warm water and the toys and all instead.” 

Walt frowned at him, suspicious, but Will lit up. “Toyses? I play!” 

“I don’t know, you said no bath, but if you’ve changed your mind, that’s cool. You can have some bath toys.” He looked at Samantha. “Help me out here; where am I going?” 

“Uncle Bastian’s room. He has the great big bathroom. Great big.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’ll show you.” 

She pointed an imperious finger, the other boy started struggling in the cowboy’s arms, and for a second, Ash could see utter exhaustion. 

“Okay, let’s go.” He went the way Samantha was pointing and set Will down in the tub, then turned to take—Walt? Was it Walt?—from Bastian. 

“I got this.” He gave Bastian a smile. “Samantha will show me where the boys’ room is so I can get them in pjs. You’re good. Go have a drink.” He started tossing everything he could find that would float into the bathtub to be used as toys. Plastic cups, washcloths, a mostly empty shampoo bottle. 

“Okay…” Bastian grabbed a towel on his way and headed out of the room with a sigh. 

“He’s not a dad. He’s not my dad.” Samantha sat on the closed commode. “Did you know my mom and dad?” 

“No, but I wish I had. He’s not trying to be your dad, Samantha; he’s just trying to give you a safe home. I think he’s new at this parenting stuff, you know?” 

The boys splashed and laughed, and he managed to get Walt shampooed without the kid even really noticing. One down… 

Will dumped a glass of water on his own head, cheering. “I do!” 

Oh, this little boy was fearless. 

“Wow, you’re good at that.” He quickly lathered up Will’s head. “Do it again!” 

“Again!” Will filled the cup and poured it over his head. “Again!” 

Walt began to cry. 

Oh, boy. 

“You want a turn, Walt?” He grabbed another cup and put it in Walt’s hands. “You can do it too.” He glanced over his shoulder at Samantha. He was going to make her feel so smart and useful she didn’t have time to miss Connecticut. “Are they always like this?” 

“They’re awful, but they’re mine, so I have to keep them.” She sighed, so dramatic. “There aren’t any fun kids here.” 

He kept his hands busy with the boys while he talked with her. Finish the bath, pop the boys in pjs—had they had dinner yet? “No? What about school? That should be starting soon, right?” 

“Yes!” Like it was a betrayal. “I’m running out of time!” 

“Running out of time for what?” He hit the drain on the bathtub and rinsed the boys off. “Towels?” 

“I’ll get them. For the summer. I don’t want to go to school here. I don’t like it here. I won’t go.” She handed him towels. “I’m going back to my old house, my old school.” 

“Oh, I see.” He understood. It wasn’t something he was going to argue with her about when he’d been here five minutes. Or really, ever. He’d just have to help her like it here. 

Assuming he figured out how to like it here. 

Gotta love a challenge. 

He took the towels and wrapped the boys in them. He picked Will up but offered Walt his hand. “Show me your room, Walt.” 

“Room! Room!” The little boy glanced at his sister, wide-eyed. “Sisser?” 

“You have the blue room. Will has the green room.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that it matters. They always end up together.” 

“Twins do. It’s a thing.” He sort of led and sort of followed Walt into a blue room and closed the door behind them, hoping that would at least slow Will down if he took off. “Pajamas…” He looked around and finally started opening dresser drawers. 

“Turtle ones.” Will pointed to the bed. “Turtle.” 

Walt went to the dresser and opened up another drawer, pulling out a pair of pajamas with moose all over them. “Dease ones.” 

“Okay. Perfect.” Turtles for Will, moose for Walt. “You guys look great.” He glanced at Samantha. “Have you all had dinner?” 

“No. Everything here is hot. Everything.” 

“Eggses! Eat all the eggses!” Will cheered, and Walt climbed up on the little bed, covering his head with the blankets. 

“Okay. You want eggs? I can make eggs, no problem. Walt? Are you coming?” He gave Walt’s little butt a pat. Scrambled eggs were a perfectly fine dinner for his first night in town. 

“Eggses. Eggses. Egg-a-ses!” Will cheered and marched to the top of the stairs, where Bastian met them. 

“No boys on the stairs alone, little dude.” Bastian met Samantha’s eyes. “You going to eat?” 

“Are you going to cook?” 

Those lips tightened, and Bastian shrugged one shoulder. “Starve, then. I don’t care. Stay up here with your brother.” 

“Fine.” Samantha crossed her arms. 

“Whoa, now. I can cook. No one needs to starve. Good rule about the stairs though. You got this one? Let me grab Walt.” He went back for the boy with his head still under the blanket and scooped him up. “Dinner, buddy.” 

Walt just snuggled right into him with a little hum, but that was it. No fight. Just a snuggle. 

Poor kid. That was a little boy who wanted his mommy. Will probably did too; he just seemed better at distracting himself. 

When he got to the stairs, everyone was already gone, probably on their way to the kitchen. That was quite a staring match between Bastian and Samantha. She was angry, and he was out of patience—or just plain energy—for it. He couldn’t blame either of them. This was impossibly hard, incredibly unfair, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. 

Well, Bastian could have refused to take the kids in, Ash supposed, but he hadn’t, and something about the guy’s vibe told Ash that he wouldn’t have even thought about that. Bastian seemed like a family guy—his mother had set all of this up, so they must be close too. 

The kitchen was tense when he walked in. Samantha was at the table with Will, and Bastian had his back turned to her, making something. Coffee? 

He walked over and stood beside Bastian. “I’m sorry that I just barged into your home like that, but it seemed like you could use a minute to yourself.” 

“Yeah. A minute. Thanks, man. I’ll get you set up with your rooms and everything here in a bit. I—Thanks for jumping in.” 

The kitchen door thumped open. “Boss? You need to sign off on all this sh—shtuff from the auction house.” 

The man who came stomping in was filthy, smelled bad, and had a voice like a foghorn. 

Walt immediately started wailing, while Will launched himself toward the big guy—who had obviously been rolling in manure. 

Samantha caught Will by his collar and pulled him back, which wasn’t ideal but got the job done. He bounced Walt on his hip and tried not to wrinkle his nose too obviously at the stench. “Oh, good catch, Samantha.” 

The temptation to tell the guy that they were all standing right there, and he needn’t shout was almost irresistible, but he managed for the sake of… something. Respect. Politeness. Just being too new to rock the boat yet. Something. He hadn’t been here an hour and all he’d seen was chaos. The house was serene and stately on the outside, and a whirlwind of emotion and noise and… stinky on the inside. 

“You know it. I took a tumble out there chasing that dinosaur chicken. Sammy, girl, you know your face is going to freeze that way?” 

“Oh for… those ostriches are going to be the death of me. Wylie, this is Allen. Asher Allen. He’s the guy Mama hired from back East.” 

“Well, Allen Asher Allen! Triple A! I’m pleased to meetcha. I need that stuff done for the auction before tomorrow, Boss. Don’t forget.” The big man winked at him. “Y’all need anything from town? Tacos? Beer? A pair of penguins from the zoo?” 

Soap? 

God, that almost came out of his mouth. 

“Penwings!” Will tried to make another run for Wylie, but Samantha was on it. 

“It’s good to meet you, Wylie.” 

Do not say “coyote”. 

Ash was going to get in trouble here. He could feel it. 

“We’ll have a beer later, huh? Everyone will want to meet you. Don’t forget that—” 

Bastian slapped one hand on the counter. “I said I’ll do it, man. Get your skanky ass out of here, or I’ll tell Anna you tracked shit through her kitchen!” 

Whoa. 

Ash flinched and reflexively took a couple of steps backward. Walt was practically inconsolable now, crying into his shoulder. Even Will was a little wide-eyed. 

Samantha huffed and shook her head like all the adults had gone crazy, and maybe they had. 

And who was Anna? He was sure he’d been told Bastian lived alone. 

Wylie, though, he just chuckled and shook his head. “I ain’t scairt. My old lady is a paragon of womanhood. I’ll bring tacos in a bit. See you later, Boss, Triple A, Sammy, lost boys.” 

Huh. Wylie said “ain’t” and used “paragon” correctly in the same breath. This place was wild. “It’s just two A’s actually…” He didn’t manage to get that out before Wylie closed the door. 

Everyone went still in the kitchen for a second, and then Walt started wailing again. “Okay… hey, buddy. It’s all good.” Hopefully. Bastian needed a drink and a nap. And maybe not to have children around, but here they were. “Can I make the kids some eggs?” 

“Of course. What do you need besides eggs? Cheese? Milk? The pots and pans are here.” He opened up a cabinet, and the stacks of pans gleamed. Nice. 

“Yes, all of those things. A mild cheese if you have one? Thank you.” He turned to Samantha. “Do you guys like toast with your eggs? You want them wrapped in a tortilla? Something else?” 

“No tortillas. Only my daddy ate tortillas.” 

Bastian took Walt from him. “Hush, pup. I got you. We’ll go see the puppies after you eat, if you’re nice.” 

Walt grabbed Bastian, leaned in and whispered, and Bastian nodded. “Sure, you can have a tortilla, pup.” 

Ash hid his grin and started scrambling eggs in a large bowl. “So, no spices, Samantha? What about the boys?” 

“Will is no spice. Walt is a New Mexican in his soul, aren’t you, pup? He likes to share chile with his tio, don’t you?” 

“Tio?” He found the cheese and milk, and a loaf of bread. 

“It’s Spanish for uncle. I’m their Tio Bastian.” 

“He’s Uncle Bastian,” Samantha insisted. 

“That works too. I’m easy.” And furious, but holding it in, Ash could see it. 

“What’s Spanish for nanny? Or… Manny?” He chuckled, pouring the eggs into the pan and listened to them sizzle. He popped in the toast for Samantha and pulled out tortillas for the boys. He’d like Will to learn to like a tortilla; it made eating so easy. 

“El niñero.” 

Oh, okay. That was actually really pleasant to the ear. 

“I speak French.” Samantha shook her head. “Not Spanish.” 

“You can speak both.” Bastian didn’t sound the slightest bit worried. 

“Moi aussi, Samantha. But we can learn Spanish, too. And German. And Italian also, if we want to.” 

He noticed then that Walt was quiet. Walt trusted Bastian. Good to know. Maybe Bastian was right about the boy being New Mexican in his soul. 

“Did I tell y’all there is a new foal in the barn? She’s a pretty thing. In a couple of days, we’ll go see her.” 

“You have a foal? How cool. I’ve never seen one except in pictures or TV. What about you Samantha?” 

“I guess I could see her. There’s nothing else to do around here.” 

“Nope. Just miles and miles of nature.” Bastian was trying not to explode—that was obvious—but the cracks were starting to show. 

“Moo cows, Sisser!” Will pronounced. “Kiki and doggies and—” He looked to Bastian. 

“Churro sheep and coyotes and llamas.” 

“Cowdodies! Aroo!” 

He smiled at that because it was so adorable. Bastian had been putting in the time with these kids, despite everything. He put the eggs on plates, wrapping two up with cheese inside tortillas, and set them down on the table for the boys, then put toast on Samantha’s plate. 

“Do you want cheese on your eggs, Samantha?” 

“Yes?” She looked so suspicious, so worried about her answer. 

“Great.” He added some cheese and folded the eggs around it so it would melt. “Here you go.” He leaned toward her and gave her a wink. “You’re allowed to like what you like.” 

“Yeah. I don’t like spicy food. I don’t like oats. I don’t like it here.” 

Bastian sat with Walt. “You want to sit on your seat, pup? Eat some good eggs?” 

Walt nodded and sat down to eat, tearing into the tortilla. Will had already finished half of his. 

“What can I make for you, Bastian? Or should we have some dinner after we put the kids down and… talk a little?” 

“I think you and I have to make a plan. I’ll need to show you your rooms and all that. How about planning to meet post getting the twins down?” 

“Sounds good. I’ve got this if you want to relax a little, or… go see what Wylie needed you for.” Helpful. He was there to look after the kids, but also to be a help to Bastian. That’s what Bastian’s mother had said. My boy needs help. 

“Perfect. I’m going to go send that information to the auction house, then we’ll see the puppies, okay y’all?” 

“Pees.” Walt nodded, offering Bastian a smile. 

This was a good start. Jumping in was somehow better than taking it slow and awkward introductions. He was here now, working already, helping where he could. 

The hardest part of this job wasn’t going to be two wild twin boys like he’d thought. It was going to be Samantha. 

And her tio.

Title: Diamonds in the Rough
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0D2YLD3B2

No Ghosts

March 10, 2020 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #3
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: March 10, 2020
Pages: 297

 

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

Months after James’s brutal murder, Sam gets an opportunity to help Thomas find closure. That means leaving New York City to travel to the O’Reilly’s Texas home, to meet Sam’s parents and get a taste of how and where the O’Reilly brothers grew up.

Their vacation is also an opportunity for Thomas and Sam to move beyond the past, drop their remaining baggage, and finally solidify their tumultuous relationship.

But that may be easier said than done given that Thomas has a secret he’s been keeping from Sam, and Sam is sick and tired of everyone in his life knowing what’s going on but him. It’s the worst time for their trust to break down, because their final confrontation with James’s killer looms, and if they’re going to walk away, they’ll have to do it together.

Note to our readers: Each of the three books in The Cowboy and the Dom Series has a fully realized, romantic ending. However, the overarching suspense element will leave readers on a cliffhanger after books one and two, to be fully resolved in book three (this book). Readers should begin the series with book one, First Rodeo.

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EXCERPT

Chapter One

“No, Sam can’t be alone yet. Can you set up a conference call?” Thomas stared at the Scrabble board. “After three.”

“Three thirty?” Thomas’s assistant, Ally, was on the phone, being her usual organized self and covering for him while he was out of the office, looking after his lover.

“Yes, that’ll work. Put it on my calendar and email me the slide deck?”

“Sure thing, I’m doing that right now.” He could hear Ally typing. “Doctor Kinessey called about continuing his sponsorship for next year.”

While they were talking, Thomas pulled a handful of Scrabble tiles off his rack and placed them on the board, spelling out C-A-N-D-Y. Not great, but not terrible. He gave Sam a shrug and a smile and paced away from the board, one eye still on his lover, his sub.

“When did he call? Did Kathy call him—”

“Yesterday. She’s on it.”

“Oh, good. That’s promising.”

Sam tilted his head, playing Y-O-D-E-L-I-N-G. “You can go in, Mister. I swear.”

He shook his head and mouthed the word No to Sam.

“So how’s the cowboy?”

He stared at the board and sighed. “Jesus.”

“That bad?”

“What? No. No that wasn’t for you. He’s much better. I’m just getting my ass handed to me in Scrabble. Sorry.”

“Okay…that’s not sexy at all. So…ah. Amanda wants to know if you’re planning on making an appeal at the donor gala next month.”

“Yes. Tell her I’m interested, and I’ll try to get in to see her early next week.”

“She goes on vacation Wednesday.”

“Oh. Okay, well Monday, then.”

“You’re sure?”

He had to return to work someday. Sam would be coping by then. “Yes, Monday.”

“Okay, Boss. That’s all I got. Check in with me later?”

“All right. I’ll call you around four.” Thomas looked at his watch. He was pretty proud of himself. He was up, showered, shaved, he’d made breakfast, and even gotten dressed today. It was as if he were real.

“Kiss your cowboy!”

He snorted. “Thanks, Ally.” He hung up the phone. “You cheated.”

“I did not. I’m just brilliant.” Sam stuck his tongue out at him and rolled those pretty eyes. Once Sam’s stitches had come out, the boy shaved his head, and with the knit caps he wore constantly these days, Sam’s eyes seemed huge.

“I liked it better when you still had the concussion and you thought the Hs were Ls and the Vs were Ws.” He picked five tiles and stared at his new letters thoughtfully. “Ah.” He grinned. Maybe he could keep up after all. He played D-E-V-I-C-E off Sam’s D in “yodeling” and replaced the tiles in his rack. “Looks like I’m going back in on Monday.”

“I’m more than capable of managing. I’ve got this. I’ll even make you chili.” A-X-E-S and D-E-V-I-C-E-S? Thomas was about to pinch Sam.

“We’ll have to talk about some ground rules while I’m not home.” He turned Sam’s “axes” into T-A-X-E-S and also put down A-B-L-E off his T.

“Nicely done. What kind of ground rules? I’m just going to work, mostly. I’m still five hundred emails behind.” Sam played V-O-L-E.

“Well, for starters, no working out.” God, he had impossible tiles. He sighed and used the C in “candy” to make R-I-C-E. Pathetic.

“I’ll get soft in the middle, you know.”

“You can do some crunches when I get home. But no running at all.”

“No. Not yet. Maybe in a little while, but…no. Not yet.” Sam reached out for him.

He abandoned his letters, moved around the coffee table to sit closer to his boy, and took Sam’s hand in his. “Yes. That’s right. Not yet.”

“Mmm…hey.” Sam twined their fingers together, holding on to him.

“Hi.” Thomas gave his boy a smile. “It’ll be good, won’t it? Getting back to our routine.” If they could even call it that. Sam had only just moved in when he was attacked and hospitalized, so they hadn’t had a routine in place for more than a couple of weeks. But Sam had been happy before all this insanity, working on his book and making progress on his research projects. The focus had been good for his boy.

“You know it. I’m aching for a little normal. Just a little. Maybe a lot.”

“Aching, yes.” He’d been fine all week. His body had been just as focused on Sam’s recovery as his mind. But talking about normal suddenly made him want his lover back.

He reached for Sam and pulled his boy in for a kiss.

Sam’s hand was warm on Thomas’s cheek, his thumb moving lazily, stroking under his eye.

His boy smelled like Old Spice and tasted a little wild, just like his cowboy should. He slid a hand over Sam’s hip and tucked it under one firm ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. The grin he got was pure happiness, Sam leaning hard into his touch.

His boy’s energy lit him up and he grinned, catching those hazel eyes, loving the little extra green he saw there this time. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere, cowboy?”

“That’s the rumor. You found me wandering, I hear. All aimless and shit.” Sam licked the corner of his lips, the sensation featherlight, intriguing.

“Right, aimless. I remember now.” He huffed out a soft laugh. “Well, we can’t have that. I’m sure I’ve got something you can focus on.” He nudged Sam’s chin up with his own and inhaled against smooth skin, breathing his boy in.

“Mmm…” That satisfied sound settled deep in his balls. “Oh, that’s just right.”

“Mhm.” He licked and kissed his way past Sam’s throat, humming as he felt the boy swallow against his lips, and tested the bend near the boy’s shoulder with his teeth.

Sam moaned for him, moving sweet and slow against him, almost like he was dancing. It didn’t take anything at all to encourage Sam into his lap; then he had that perfect ass rocking into him.

“Yes.” That was what he was after. Heat spread up his spine, making him suck in a quick, deep breath. “That’s good, sweetheart.” He slipped his hands up under Sam’s T-shirt and explored the hot skin and hard muscles with knowing fingers.

Sam stared at him, letting him see all the hunger, the love. It could get addictive fast, that open desire.

A piece of him was so ready for a throwdown, but he took a breath and made that wait because his hands needed to feel Sam whole; to feel his lover’s strength, make sure it was real, make sure Sam could handle what was building in him.

He reached up and traced the edge of Sam’s cap. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I got this.” Sam kissed him hard enough that he forgot to breathe. “I need to feel us together, you know?”

He found a breath, thin though it was. “I do. I want you. God, so much.” He urged Sam off his lap and stood. “I have to have all of you.”

“Yes. Every bit.” Sam nodded and led him to the bedroom, hands sweating just a little. Thomas followed eagerly, captivated, recognizing the gesture for what it was. As they moved into the room, he tugged off his T-shirt and tossed it, going for another kiss, chasing down Sam’s lips.

Sam opened up, hands sliding down into his sweats, easing them over his ass.

Thomas kicked his jeans off, stepping past them and reaching for Sam’s T-shirt. He got hold of the fabric but stopped himself, eyes glancing up at the knit cap on Sam’s shaved head. He lifted the shirt off, careful not to bump anything that might still be sore, and dropped it.

“May I?” he asked, catching Sam’s eyes, fingers reaching for the hat, the only garment his lover was still wearing.

“I don’t want to turn you off, Mister.” There was a question in Sam’s expression, a test.

Thomas tilted his head, wondering why his lover couldn’t see how entirely unnecessary that was, but he gave Sam the only answer he had…and his heart with it. “I want all of you, sweetheart. I love all of you. Every bit. Always.”

“All right, then. Yeah.” Sam took the hat off, no more hesitation, trusting in his word.

He was continually in awe of the depth of Sam’s trust in him. He smiled, gave his boy a nod, and ran his fingers lightly from front to back, across Sam’s skull, examining the scars and what was left of the bruises, learning them a little and accepting them as part of who the boy was to him. “Thank you.”

He planned to reward that trust tonight for as long as they could stand it. He took a kiss, bumping against Sam as they shuffled toward the bed.

Sam snuggled in, pressing into him, shoulders to hips, holding nothing back.

“Mmm.” He got his arms around Sam. “You feel so good. I was missing you like this. I’m so ready to get lost in you, sweetheart. Inside you.” He shifted, trapping Sam’s cock against his hip and rocking them together.

Sam made the best sound—half moan and half happy yelp—and his eyelids went heavy. Thomas tugged Sam in tighter, giving him more friction, making his boy feel the pressure.

“Good, yes?” He could feel Sam moving…always moving, his boy. One more thing he’d missed. He was aching in earnest now, wanting Sam’s attention, his boy’s touch. He was patient, though. He’d get what he desired most. For now, he was enjoying watching Sam feel, watching his boy begin to dissolve.

“Oh, Mister. Good don’t begin to…” Sam’s words trailed off, a low moan taking their place as a deep flush climbed his chest.

Not even close, he knew. “My boy,” he said with a growl that started down deep. He moved to the bed, pulling Sam with him by the hand. “Come on, sweetheart, off your feet.”

Sam crawled up onto the bed, arms open to him, begging for him. His boy did need so well. It was a beautiful sight. It made him breathless, eroded what was left of his patience. He moved over Sam and into those arms, gliding his stiff prick along hot skin and kissing his boy until they were equally unable to breathe.

He made sure that tender, bruised head was cradled in the pillows, but that was where he let his worry stop. Sam’s body would tell him everything he should know.

With his eyes on his boy, he curled his fingers firmly around Sam’s cock and stroked, thumb dragging up the back and circling around the head, just to see it in Sam’s face. Just to see what he was doing reflected in his boy’s eyes.

Sam’s lips dropped open and one leg drew up, his knee bending to give him more access.

The knowledge that two weeks ago Thomas might have lost this, that he might not have had his boy in his bed again was present with him as he touched Sam, watched the boy move. It wasn’t distracting or even painful, not with the reality of Sam right in front of him, but it made him appreciate this first time together since the incident, made him more acutely aware of what they had, what they were together.

It made some of his other worries feel less significant, less pressing. That was their work. This was their world, and he was more than content in it.

He reached for his nightstand, craving his lover beyond words.

“Damn, you’re pretty.” Sam reached up, fingers stroking his nipple to hardness, pinching the barest bit, teasing him.

He hissed at the quick little jolt that sent across his chest, raising goose bumps and making him shiver. “Thank you.” He was going to accept those words, the same way his lover had accepted his own earlier. Simply. He was trying to be better about that.

He smoothed the rubber over his cock and offered his boy two slippery fingers and a little pressure. “Soon, boy. Need you soon.”

Sam pinched again before bearing down, taking his fingers in. Sam was silk inside, tight and heated, and Thomas groaned at the promise Sam’s body made.

He twisted his fingers as Sam took them in, slicking and teasing, stretching and making sure his boy relaxed. The last was hardly necessary, as Sam felt loose and ready. That made the corner of his mouth twitch in a knowing grin. His boy wanted everything he did.

He’d never known a man that had so little sexual experience and so much natural instinct, such deep desires. It suited him to be Sam’s first and only. It made him just that much more proud, and it was hot as hell. He groaned as that thought settled right into his groin, making his balls tight and his cock stretch. Fuck. “Sweetheart…”

“Mister. Please, love me, huh?” Sam spread wide, knees bent in a clear offer.

Damn, it didn’t get any hotter than that. “Love you.” He lined up, one fist around his cock to guide himself, and sank into his boy to the root with a long sigh. Sam rippled around him, the sensation driving another spike of heat up along his spine.

He stretched over Sam, instinct already driving him. Sam’s need was making him high, making it hard to think but easy just to let his body have what it wanted. Sam met his thrusts, gaze dragging over his body like his boy wanted to devour him.

“Fuck, Sam.” He leaned down and kissed his boy, hard and deep, thrusting in with his tongue even as his hips went wild. “Feel so good. Perfect.”

“Yes.” Sam nodded, biting his bottom lip, white teeth just digging in.

Sam’s prick pressed into his belly and he reached for it again, giving the boy just enough of a grip to feel it. That soft cast slapped against the sheets, Sam’s right hand fisting tight. “Oh, damn. Fuck. Want you so bad.”

He ducked his head and shifted his hips a bit, the steeper angle giving him a little more rub. “Fuck!”

Sam wrapped those strong legs around him, adding all that core strength to his, and shit, he was going to lose it. Sam rode him like no one else, frantic, hungry, pushing them both. He grunted and gave in, breathing hard, single-minded, taking everything Sam offered and returning it. He loved the way they worked together, no shame, no boundaries, just giving and getting everything they needed.

“Sam!” He had to let go of Sam’s cock to brace himself before he fell over; his boy was so strong, and he had to balance.

Sam bore down, squeezed hard around his cock, and Thomas barked out a sharp cry. Thomas trembled and gulped in air, thrusting uselessly, his cock choked by Sam’s body. To his own ears, his shout sounded hoarse as his climax roared through him, just a breath before he was ready, one second before he’d have lost control himself, his own pleasure summoned by his beautifully impatient boy.

“So-so fucking fine,” Sam breathed, right hand pulling at his needy cock, clumsy, harsh, awkward.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Jesus, his voice felt blown. He pushed Sam’s hand away and took over, strokes solid and steady, Sam’s cock gliding through his fist as he watched the pleasure roll over his boy’s face in waves.

“Mister!” Sam shuddered and shot for him, ass still clamped tight around his cock.

Thomas groaned as another jolt ran through him, making the blood roar in his ears and his vision blur. He blinked it clear, wanting to see his boy, wanting to watch. “You’re stunning, love.”

Sam panted for him, blinking up with a purely dazed expression.

Oh, that was adorable.

He leaned down, took a slightly breathless kiss, and smiled at Sam. “That was…you’re…fuck, I love you.” He had so much to say, but he didn’t seem to have words yet, so he hoped that summed it up well enough.

“Love.” Sam moaned for him, licking Thomas’s lips. “Wow, huh?”

He nodded. That about covered it. “Yes. Wow. Incredible.” He kissed Sam again. “The way you drive me out of my mind.”

Sam grinned at him. “Good. I’m so glad. I want to make you feel as good as you make me.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Without even trying.” He put a hand on Sam’s hip and shifted, dropped the rubber in the bin by the bed, and stretched out alongside his boy.

“Mmm…that is one of my favorite feelings on Earth.” Sam sounded utterly tickled.

He laughed in agreement. It felt good to have this back, the warmth, his boy so relaxed, nothing between them but skin.

“It feels much better than being crushed at Scrabble.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sam patted his leg, fingers trailing over his skin. “I missed making love with you, Mister.”

His chest tightened at Sam’s words. “Yes, so much. We needed this, sweetheart. I was craving you.” Mindful of the boy’s injuries, he pulled Sam to him, helping his lover settle in his arms. Sam didn’t hesitate for a second; he snuggled in with a satisfied sigh, resting hard against Thomas’s chest.

He held his boy close, grateful to have felt Sam’s strength, to know for sure that every bit of Sam was solid and whole. They still had other pieces of their relationship to visit, other aspects of their lives to bring back around to normal, but as far as new beginnings went, this was the perfect start.

 

Title: No Ghosts, The Cowboy and the Dom Book Three
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0851V13ZS
ISBN13: 978-1951011291

 

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Deviations: Discipline

April 11, 2017 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 312

Tobias and Noah explore their relationships more deeply than ever, not just through their own Dominance and submission, but by engaging with their friends. As Noah helps Tobias through the loss of someone dear, he finds Tobias helping him too, leading Noah through some intense sexual games, breaking down the last of his fears, and helping Noah face the biggest one of all: the cage.

Meanwhile, Tobias's ex-lover, Phantom, becomes close friends with Noah and they discover and try to resist the simmering sexual tension between them. Their playful teasing turns to real support when Phantom reaches the breaking point due to a lack of consistent Master in his life; something Phan desperately needs.

While Bradford decided he has to stand in as that Master for a while, Tobias and Noah go to Paris, where they see the sights, go to a sexy club, and re-negotiate their contract. Returning from Paris to their own lives brings them all sorts of new difficulties, from deciding whether they should live together, to trying to figure out just where Phantom belongs in their ever-changing relationship.

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EXCERPT FROM DISCIPLINE

Tobias cursed as he came across yet another torn up intersection. Traffic was a mess all through the downtown core, and his frustration level was rising with every one-way street he had to navigate. He was going in a circle, he just knew it, and Lincoln Avenue was always just out of reach.

The trouble, he decided, wasn't so much the damn construction as the sheer idiocy of the drivers who simply wouldn't get out of his way and let him get home. "It's not even close to rush hour," he muttered, talking out loud in uncharacteristic frustration and trying to ease around yet another truck offloading dirt or equipment or something. He hit the gas and then the brakes as a woman in a PT Cruiser cut him off and gave him the finger.

"And you would think," he added, "that with all this crap going on... I could at least lose this fucking erection." An incredibly persistent one at that, one that had been with him to varying degrees since he'd woken up from a morning dream about Noah and new leather wrist cuffs that had complex and intriguing chains dangling from them. He'd been hard off and on since then, and his body was definitely settling on full hardness at the moment.

He took another breath and looked around at the traffic as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his irritation growing. "But no. Not today. Today, I'm cursed with an iron dick, a schedule that's opened up, a submissive at work, and endless traffic. God damn it!" He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel and a miracle happened: the road in front of his car emptied.

So he hit the gas and took off, heading for home. The sudden siren and flashing lights in his rearview mirror made him glance down at the speedometer in dismay. "Ah, shit." With a sigh he pulled over and undid his seatbelt.

A chest in uniform appeared at the driver's side window. A knuckle tapped on the glass, and Tobias rolled down the window, stifling another sigh. The cop had one hand on his gun. As if Tobias could make a bid for freedom in this traffic.

"License and registration, please," a voice requested in an official tone, and Tobias dutifully reached for the glove compartment. "Wait a minute." The cop rested an arm on the door and ducked to see better into the car. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," Tobias groaned, his head falling back on the seat. "Yes. Too fast. Would you like to know why, Noah?"

"That's 'Officer Dolan,' sir, and, yes. Yes, I would." Noah grinned widely.

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Well, you see, Officer Dolan, I have a smart-mouthed lover whom I can't get out of my head." He pointed to his lap. "I was in rather a rush to call him. Or at least think about him in private."

Title: Discipline
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0839N7PBF
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-19-2

 

Discipline 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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Flying Blind

July 9, 2020 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: East Meets Western #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: July 28, 2020
Pages: 427

Flying Blind

An East Meets Western M/M Romance

Sometimes the best thing about living in New York is leaving it.

When January Bell takes a risk on a business trip to Denver and introduces himself to the hot as fire rodeo cowboy across the bar, he has no idea what he’s in for. Hawk is like nobody he’s ever met, and Jan finds he is intrigued enough to want more than just one night with the deceptively complex man.

Hawk Destry is working hard to wring every moment he can out of his bull riding career. He’s used to beating the eight second clock, but he is slowly losing his eyesight and he doesn’t have a lot of years left in the sport.

None of that seems to matter, though, when Hawk meets January, who treats him like he’s worth more off a bull than on one, and who’s willing to work just as hard to be with him.

The two men have to deal with distance and traveling, unexpected challenges when Hawk visits New York, family on both sides, and neither of them saw any of it coming. Eventually even Hawk’s dangerous job is thrown into sharp relief when tragedy strikes. How will January and Hawk find their way if they’re flying blind?

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Cover for Cowboy for Sale, featuring a man in a cowboy hat wearing a checkered shirt.

 

Chapter One

Sometimes the best thing about living in New York City was leaving it.

“What can I get you?” The hotel bartender was burly and handsome, with deep-set dark eyes under a heavy brow and an easy smile framed by a carefully trimmed beard.

January smiled at the man and slid a credit card across the bar. “Do you have Glenlivet?”

“Yessir, twelve okay?”

“That’s fine. A double.”

The bartender picked up his card and glanced at it. “Running a tab, Mister Bell?”

“Yes, thank you, uh…”

He got a friendly smile. “Alex.”

January nodded. “Good to meet you, Alex.”

“What brings you to Denver?” Alex pulled the bottle down from a high shelf and set a glass on the bar in front of him. “Business? A wedding?”

He grinned and shook his head. It was a hotel bar and he was wearing one of his favorite suits. Either one of those things was a good bet. “Just a couple of business meetings.” He wasn’t going to say much more, he didn’t like to talk about his philanthropy. But his foundation was always searching for new opportunities and sometimes he had to travel to find them.

Alex poured him a generous double, put the cap on the bottle and left it within easy reach. Good call.

A pair of women waved to get Alex’s attention and the bartender inclined his head. “Excuse me. We’ll get busy here in a bit. Wave when you need me.”

“Will do. Thank you.” He swirled his whiskey and sniffed it, sighing as the rich, warm scent filled his nostrils, making his mouth water. The weather report was on the TV over the bar and he was surprised that despite the altitude, it wasn’t much cooler in Denver than it was back home. Even so, the Mile High City was much more pleasant than the Big Apple tonight.

January touched the glass to his lips, savoring the burn as that first jarring sip soaked into his tongue and slid down his throat, setting him tingling. They’d split up months ago, but this was only his second trip without Lucas and, although the bar was lively, he still felt lonely.

Or no.

Not so much lonely as alone.

He was bad at alone. He’d been both blessed and cursed with a strong, extroverted personality. He could talk to anyone, but he really did need someone to talk to, and his first glass of whiskey was always too quiet.

A raucous band pushed and bounced through the door—cowboy hats and jeans and an amazing array of sports tape and IcyHot and bruises.

“Yo, Alex!”

“Guys, Coors Light all around?”

“All but for Charlie here, man. He lost his fight with Railrunner.” One of the cowboys bellied up to the bar, damn near blinding him with a wild, excited shit-eating grin. “Let’s make him a virgin something frozen.”

Cowboys. One more reason to love Denver.

“You got it.” Alex set four silver cans on the bar. “One fakey Pina Colada, coming up.”

January glanced at the cowboy over his glass. “Somebody is on the good drugs, huh?” This cowboy seemed pretty beat up too.

“Got his ass trampled in the dirt, yessir. Made his ride, though.” God, that smile—part Dennis the Menace, part Mathew McConaughey.

Made his ride? Come on, Jan. You’re a smart guy. The pieces were floating around but he wasn’t putting them together. Injured cowboy, summertime, Denver.

Trampled. Did cowboys do MMA? January tilted his head, failing to get a look at the eyes shadowed by the man’s hat, though he caught the bright blond hair well enough.

“Railrunner, huh? Son of a bitch.” Alex peered over his shoulder at the group of men in hats as the blender whirred. “Is Charlie still on the roster for tomorrow? My girl got tickets for the show. I might have a little money on him.” Alex grinned at the cowboy sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Tickets.

“Sure he is, but you wasted your money. I’m in a solid third, and I’m taking the short-go and the event, you watch.” The guy didn’t seem to be worried in the least, or offended.

“It’s no fun to go after the easy money.” That was an obvious tease. “I guess I’ll see how you do tomorrow, won’t I?” Alex shut the blender off, poured the frozen mixture into a glass and set it on the bar. A couple of arms reached between January and the cowboy and pulled all the drinks off the bar, leaving one beer behind.

I’ll take rodeo for five-hundred, Alex. “Bulls?”

“Oh, these crazy bastards are bull riders. Good guys, great tippers, but rowdy? Wow.”

Wow was right. But they were just having fun, which was good by him. “I can’t say I’ve ever met a bull rider.”

“You want me to introduce you to Hawk there? He’s hilarious. He’s like talking to someone from a movie or something.”

He did like the accent. The shoulders too, if he was honest. And the cowboy’s ass, if he let himself go there.

And why not go there?

“Sure. I’d love that.” He’d talked to celebrities before, even straight ones.

“I’ll make the intros when he comes to grab his beer.” Alex nodded to him, like he did this every day, which January supposed he did.

“Cool. Thanks.” Well, that would never happen in New York. He sipped his drink, enjoying the warmth and watched the group of men out of the corner of his eye. So much testosterone standing in those boots. It was hot as hell.

Hawk did, in fact, come for his beer, nodding to Alex as his hand wrapped around it. “Charlie says you did good, man. Thanks.”

“No problem. Hey, you met Mr. Bell here? He’s in on business.”

“I haven’t.” Hawk turned to him, eyes hidden behind thick, little round glasses, and held out one square, scarred up hand. “Hawk Destry, pleased to meet you.”

It only took him a second to decide it wasn’t worth the risk of getting his ass kicked, so when he shook Hawk’s hand he was careful to keep it all business, despite the allure of that stubborn chin. “January Bell. Good to meet you too. Alex says you’re a bull rider?”

“That’s the rumor.” Hawk climbed up on the barstool next to him, the man laughing at himself. “Some days I do better than others.”

January grinned. “Didn’t you say you had this one in the bag?”

“I sure did, and I stand by that. Assuming I get a good draw, my bull rope doesn’t pop on me, and I keep riding like I have, I’m golden.” Hawk chuckled and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Good thing I tend to ride good late in the season, huh?”

He wasn’t sure how Hawk managed to pull off arrogance and self-awareness at the same time. It was fascinating. Maybe the smile kind of smoothed out the edges. Whatever it was, January liked it. “Your draw is what? The order you ride in?”

“The bull you ride. The order goes by ranking. Right now I’m sitting in third. We’ll see if I can’t improve it.”

He’d love to have this cowboy in the bag. “Are any of these guys ahead of you right now?” He knew he was wasting his time, but January dared to lean in a little anyway and took a sip of his whiskey.

He swore he saw Hawk’s nostrils flare, the man tuning into him. “Charlie is, but he’s hurting bad.” The words were a fascinating mixture of sympathy and complete lack of care. “Tell me about you, now. Here on business?”

“Yes. I’ve got a couple of meetings, then I head back to New York.” He tossed out a bone. “Just three nights.”

“New York, huh? I been there a couple times for events. It’s huge and shiny. Lots of folks.”

“It’s both of those things. I love it, though the hustle and the crowds can get a little much sometimes.” Thankfully he had a little sanctuary on the Upper West Side with a view of the park. He spoiled himself, he knew. Even his suite at the hotel was a splurge. “Did you like it when you visited?”

“Sure did. I like seeing new stuff. My job keeps me on the road a lot, so it’s a good thing.” Was Hawk checking him out? Surely not. They didn’t make gay cowboys, did they?

“I get away once a month or so. More in the summer if I can find an excuse. It’s hot in the city. I like the mountains, even if I don’t get there as often as I’d like. I have a great view from my suite though.” He turned on his stool and swept the hem of his suit jacket off his hip to give Hawk more to glance at, if in fact the cowboy was looking. “Do you drink scotch? This is a nice one.”

“Is it?” That smile flashed again. “Let me buy us a round, then. See if our tastes mesh.”

Oh ho. So cowboys do come in gay. Sweet.

January caught Hawk’s arm as the man reached for his wallet, trying again to get a peek at Hawk’s eyes. The glasses were adorably geeky, incongruous under the hat. “Let me, please.”

There was a sizzling moment where the air between them burned, and it was blistering, dangerous, and sexual as hell. “Sounds like a plan.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He let go of Hawk’s arm and waved the bartender over. There was no reason to play games with the pull so strong and clear between them. “Alex? I’ll take the bottle, and I’d like to close out my tab please.”

Alex seemed a little confused but nodded and punched something into the register. “You got it.”

January dipped his fingers into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a business card and a pen, and wrote his suite number on the back.

“Sign here, Mr. Bell. I hope everything is all right?”

“Just fine, thank you.” He wrote in a generous tip and signed his name, then lifted the half-full bottle of whiskey off the bar and handed the business card to Hawk. “I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

“Give me two shakes to finish my beer.” Hawk lifted the bottle and saluted him before he headed over to his friends, moving slow and giving him a chance to see.

“Making new friends with a sh-uit, Hawk?” Charlie was slurring a bit, but between the bruised jaw and the drugs that wasn’t surprising. “What is he, a sh-ponsor?”

Hawk looked back at him, winked, then turned back to the group, giving him a nice view at a tiny, perfectly framed ass. “He ain’t with the tour, man. I thought maybe he was a fan. Y’all going to get Charlie here up to his bed?”

He was definitely a fan. Just not of the rodeo.

He left Hawk to finish his beer and make whatever exit he needed to make and took his bottle of scotch upstairs to his top-floor suite, where he poured himself another shot of liquid courage. He didn’t feel guilty or awkward; those weren’t things he had time for. But it had been a while since he’d quite so obviously let his dick do the thinking.

It wasn’t long before a knock sounded on the door, shave and a haircut. Hell, even the knock was brash, bold. He set two glasses next to the bottle on the dresser and went to answer the door.

There was a cowboy at his door all right. Boots, hat, jeans, square shoulders, bravado and all. Something about the way Hawk was standing felt a little like a challenge.

“Hey. Come on in.”

“Thanks for the invite. I appreciate it.”

“It’s… good to be appreciated.” He’d heard a lot of pick-up lines, but that was a new one. He stepped aside to let Hawk enter, laughing gently as he closed and locked the door behind them. “Do you not get many invitations?”

“I’ve had a couple three. Just needed to make sure we understood what I came up for.” Suddenly Hawk was right there, solid as a rock, one hand on his hip.

“Scotch?” January teased.

Jesus. Hawk was giving off more heat than the sun. And with that touch on his hip, whatever electricity had passed between them at the bar was back, only this time without the restraint of public eyes on them, January could do what he’d wanted to do then. He reached for Hawk’s shirt and tugged it out of the well-worn wranglers, slipping a hand under the hem to rest on warm skin and the hardest set of abs he’d ever felt. “Damn, cowboy.”

“I live and die on core strength.” Hawk found one of his nipples through his dress shirt, thumb dragging over his skin.

Nothing like finding one of his hottest hot spots on the first try. January hissed and leaned into the touch, fingers going to work on Hawk’s shirt, buttons sliding open one by one from the bottom up. He inhaled deeply, the scent of hungry man making his balls ache. He reached up with both hands and touched the frame of Hawk’s glasses, raising an eyebrow. “May I?”

“Sure. Put them somewhere safe.” The stroking turned into a firm pinch.

His toes curled. That was fucking right. “Easy, I don’t want to drop them.” He took Hawk’s glasses, folded them carefully and set them behind him on the dresser, right next to the bottle of scotch. Didn’t get much safer than that. He bent a little, but he still couldn’t get a look at those eyes, hiding under the brim of Hawk’s hat.

He shrugged his jacket off catching it with one hand and tossing it over a chair.

“Where was I? Oh right. Here.” He fanned his fingers out across those abs again. “Living and dying.”

“Mmhmm.” Hawk put his hat, brim up, on the end table, exposing a short-cropped mass of white curls, and light blue eyes that were almost crystalline. Impressive. And lovely.

He pushed the shirt off Hawk’s shoulders and took a light, tentative kiss, wondering, asking. Not every man he’d known was into kissing a one-night stand. The answer was straightforward and direct—Hawk kissed him like he was storming a beach at Normandy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. It was so on.

He helped Hawk get the shirt off while they fought for tongue positions and with each other’s buttons and zippers. He got his fingers under Hawk’s waistband and cupped a smooth, hot ass cheek that was nearly as muscled as the cowboy’s abs. Fuck, that was hot. He worked out, but January felt like a marshmallow next to this guy.

Hawk was like a marble statue come to life—chiseled and hard, but still burning with his need. Burning he understood. He shouldered Hawk toward the bed. “Sit.” He gave Hawk a light shove to make his point and tugged the man’s jean’s over his hips.

“Let me get my boots, or I’ll be caught at the ankle.”

“Boots? Oh.” He stepped out of the way and watched as Hawk wrestled with the boots and the denim. Huh. He’d file that under things to know before fucking a cowboy.

He kicked off his own shoes while Hawk dealt with footwear drama and tossed his shirt aside with them.

Hawk stripped down, showing off a heavy cock, icy pubes, and a set of feathers inked over his collarbones.

“I hadn’t planned on bringing a stacked, sexy cowboy to my suite tonight, you know. I thought I’d be finishing another glass or two and watching a game on TV.” He kicked everything aside and stood at a short distance, letting Hawk have an eyeful too. Hawk seemed so young, naked and blue eyed and without that hat. He felt a little old.

“Mmm, that would be a waste. Look at you. I could eat your happy ass alive.”

He was a little more interested in Hawk’s happy ass, frankly. He moved forward, the proximity making him burn and his fingers long to touch. Hawk’s blond curls were baby soft as he ran his fingers through them and long enough to tug.

So he did. “How about my cock instead?”

“Oh, I do like a man that knows what he wants.” Those icy eyes flashed up at him. “You going to get it up again and fuck me like I need?”

Wow. Those eyes. And talk about knowing what you wanted. “Not to worry. I’m only offering you a taste, cowboy. We had an understanding, I think.”

“Only a taste, hmm? We’ll see about that. I’m pretty damn good at what I do.” Hawk cupped his balls, squeezing enough to bring him up on his toes.

Okay sure good whatever you want. He leaned into the touch. Something about this guy made him so ready to let go. But he had plans too.

“Humble. I’ve heard that about cowboys.”

“Meek. Mild. Salt of the earth.” Hawk understood how to unfasten another man’s slacks.

“Four for four.” He watched Hawk’s scarred fingers work, thinking they were surprisingly delicate for someone that spent most of their time with thousand-pound animals.

“You forgot hard as nails and twice as tough.”

He sucked in a breath as his cock and the air-conditioned room met. “Oh, now you’re talking about me.”

“Mmm, look at this fine bit of rope.” Hawk measured him, base to tip, then did it again, lips opening to take his tip in.

January sighed and reminded himself to be patient, but his fingers made a fist in the cowboy’s hair anyway, blond curls popping up between his knuckles. He knew without asking that Hawk would be more than ready for whatever he wanted to dish out, but he was still a gentleman despite all appearances at the moment.

First times and all, right?

Hawk cupped his balls, rolling them and making him gasp, even as Hawk’s mouth dropped down and down, the blistering suction surrounding his prick.

“Mmm.” All right, it seemed like Hawk did have something to brag about. January spread his feet wider and arched his hips forward, his eyes glued to that hungry mouth. Hawk went down on him like a Hoover, taking him in to the root and swallowing hard before moving back up to work his tip.

He closed his eyes to feel for a minute, enjoy Hawk’s heat. Hawk’s mouth was heaven, he could let the cowboy take him all the way like this for sure. Sometime, when he was with a lover he knew he’d see more than once, he would let himself indulge again. But he wanted Hawk. He wanted that strong, muscled body underneath him.

Soon. January shivered and groaned as Hawk swallowed, throat going tight around his prick. Maybe soon-ish.

In a minute.

First, he needed to enjoy what this cowboy could teach him about flying.

“Jesus.” He opened his eyes again. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll still feel me when you win tomorrow night.”

“Mmhmm…” The hum sent vibrations all the way through to his bones. Fuck, Hawk was too good at this.

Too Goddamn good, and he’d had a little scotch. “Enough.” The word came out softer than he’d intended, raspy in his dry throat. He tried again, with more conviction. “I said a taste, cowboy. That’s enough.”

He tugged on Hawk’s hair, and his cock popped out of Hawk’s lips. They both groaned at the loss, with Hawk swaying on the mattress.

“That’s it.” He did appreciate a man that enjoyed giving head. “Crawl on up there and let me see that ass.” It was a thing of beauty in blue jeans, and Hawk obviously knew it. January was looking forward to what the denim had been hiding.

Hawk crawled up to the head of the bed, pretty little ass swaying back and forth to tease the fuck out of him.

“Mm-mm.” He reached across the bed to give one round cheek a love-tap, then slid out of his trousers. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a perfect ass?”

“Oh, flattery will so get you laid.” Hawk knelt up tall, ass cheeks clenched tight.

“Proud of it, are you?” He knelt right behind Hawk, coaxing Hawk’s knees open a little wider with his own, and slid his hands along the line of Hawk’s hips until they met, stretching wide again across those killer abs.

“You know it.” He could feel the way those muscles worked to keep them both upright.

He pressed close to Hawk’s back, letting his cock nestle into the warm cleft of that fine ass, and tasted a scarred shoulder with his tongue. That earned him a soft moan, and Hawk rocked back, ass teasing the hell out of him.

“There’s a little black bag next to your hat on the nightstand. Can you reach it?” So, he hadn’t made plans, but he was prepared anyway. Nothing put a damper on a spontaneous tryst like stopping in the hotel gift shop for a rubber, or worse, discovering it was closed.

“You got it.” Hawk settled deeper, thighs parted as he balanced and reached. Oh. Oh, that was the promise of pure sex. He slipped a hand through that inviting gap and cupped Hawk’s balls. They were silky and heavy and filled his whole hand.

Even better, they were shaved, smooth as silk, making all sorts of promises, each one better than another. Something told him waxing wasn’t cowboy standard issue. So intriguing, this man. A tangle of stereotypes and contradictions that Hawk simply owned, without shame or apology. It was sexy as hell.

“Tada!” Hawk straightened up, chuckling as he did. “That’s a right obliques workout. I’ll have to remember that.”

“I know I won’t forget it any time soon,” he teased and unzipped the little pouch pulling out what he needed. “That was a truly memorable view.”

Hawk put his hands on the wall behind the bed and arched, showing off shamelessly.

He swallowed hard. “Damn, Hawk.” January slicked a couple of fingers and touched the cool lube to the cowboy’s beautifully presented hole.

“Guy’s got to know how to get what he needs.”

“You don’t have to beg me, cowboy. I’m all in.” He slipped one finger inside, twisting it and circling the rim before adding a second.

Tight. He could only imagine that heat around his cock, working him. Milking him.

And Hawk was definitely focused and clear about what he needed. Jan was looking forward to blowing the cowboy’s mind a little. “I’m so ready for you.”

“Bring it on.” Hawk was so fierce, so in control of what he wanted.

January moved in close and lined up, wondering for a second if it would be rude to remind the man to breathe. “We’ll start easy.” He hooked one hand around Hawk’s hip and used his body weight to start to push inside, groaning as he met the natural resistance of Hawk’s body.

He heard the soft, shaky exhale, the first hint of any vulnerability at all. The truth of it was beautiful though and it made him shiver, the chance to own a piece of the cowboy’s swagger, even for an hour, giving him a thrill.

“I’ve got you.” He bent over Hawk’s back and rocked forward, sinking deeper into that incredibly tight heat. “Breathe. It’s good.”

“Yeah. Fucking A it is.” Hawk leaned toward him, hips moving in a steady rhythm that threatened to steal his breath.

He worked with Hawk, picking up the cowboy’s rhythm and taking it deeper, stronger. The way it built up on its own was so sweet, made him ache just right.

“Oh honey, like that. Just like that.”

That was better. That sounded like need.

“Yeah.” January focused on Hawk, his own need slowly building. “You’re going to lose your mind before I’m done with you.”

“Promises, promises.” Hawk gripped him, squeezing hard enough to steal his breath.

“Fuck,” he managed to bite out, followed by a deep grunt. Hawk was way too fucking together. He reached under and caught the cowboy’s thick prick in one hand, gripping it tight.

January felt that response, all around his cock, and the soft grunt that he got from Hawk proved that he had the cowboy’s attention.

“Hot.” He stroked hard several times before letting go and taking hold of Hawk’s narrow hips with both hands instead. He picked up the pace and drove in deep, moving beyond Hawk’s direction and taking them where he wanted to be.

Hawk reached down with one hand, pumping himself hard. With the couple of brain cells not busy, January managed to be impressed with Hawk’s balance.

That was the end of rational. He hauled back on Hawk’s hips. The sound of their bodies coming together over and over filled the room along with their rough breathing. He was determined to hold out for Hawk, but that sweet ass clung to him, hot and tight, and it took all his concentration.

“Come on. Harder. So fucking close.” The words weren’t a plea; they were a demand.

“Pushy fucking cowboy.”

He set his jaw, stared down the back of Hawk’s damp, blond head and thrust hard enough to send both of them rocking toward the headboard.

That was it. That earned him a cry, but nothing coherent at all.

So there.

January took a breath and focused on Hawk, dishing out more of the same until Hawk gave up trying to counter him. The cowboy melted around him, the heat increasing as Hawk gave in.

It was hard to resist the draw of Hawk’s shining skin and tired muscle; he could lick the man all over. And he might, later. At the moment his body was screaming to let go, and it was all he could do to keep up his nearly savage pace.

Hawk’s shout echoed as he shot, every pulse of pleasure echoing around his prick.

“Yes!” Oh sweet fuck yes. He fought through the tight grip around his hungry prick and took the last of what he needed—a handful of quick, shallow thrusts—and followed the cowboy over with a long, relieved groan.

Hawk slumped toward the wall, panting hard under him. It felt good, knowing he gave Hawk what he needed.

He shivered as he pulled away to ditch the condom, then he got a little of that taste he wanted, dropping kisses across the cowboy’s back. “Lie down with me. Stay a while.” He’d never kicked anyone out. People left and he got that, but he liked it if they stayed.

“Yeah? I can do that.” Hawk exhaled, settling down, turning toward him.

Score. He was happy to hold that body for a while. He extended an arm, inviting Hawk to move in closer. “You good? Okay?”

“Better than. I may have lost a few brain cells with that orgasm.”

He huffed, a weak laugh about all he could manage. “Well, they’re happily somewhere with mine. That was great.” He inhaled as Hawk settled in, more intrigued by the cowboy’s scent than he should be. He was truthfully more intrigued by Hawk in general than he should be.

Cowboy. Seriously, he’d had the orgasm of the year with a rodeo cowboy in Denver.

“Nap? Stay as long as you want. The suite comes with a killer breakfast.” He wanted Hawk to stay, and not because it was more food than he could possibly eat alone.

“Does it come with a round two?”

Oh. Heck, yeah. He wanted that too. “Are you kidding? That’s hours from now. We’ll be on three by then at least, don’t you think? Four?”

“Oh, I do like how you think.” Hawk snuggled right in with a moan.

He circled his arm over Hawk’s shoulders. “I’m told I snore a little,” he teased, talking through a huge yawn.

“I’ve been rooming with cowboys for fifteen years, honey. You could be the Latvian chain saw drill team and I could rest.”

He laughed, or thought he did. He tried anyway. And January fell asleep with an arm full of studly, irresistible cowboy.

 

Title: Flying Blind
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08CL2H4MR
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-34-5

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Making the Rules

September 9, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Triskelion Series #3
Genre: , , , , ,
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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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

Wholly Trinity

January 15, 2023 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #3
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: January 31, 2023

Dr. Isaac Daniels and Detective Neil Thrope have been on and off Dom and sub since they met a few years ago. Isaac is all in but he’s not everything switch Neil needs, so good as things are between them, they both know it’s not enough.

Being in the BDSM community, Isaac and Neil were there to help when sub Alain Remy Broussard was assaulted by a pair of Doms who didn’t ascribe to the notion of safe, sane, and consensual. Their friend, Dom and therapist Cyrus Hughes offered Alain a place to stay, and has been working with the boy to help him regain trust. When Cyrus is called out of town suddenly, he calls on Isaac, who agrees to take Alain in while he’s away.

Isaac feels instantly protective of Alain, but it’s Neil who quickly bonds with the sub. With Alain in the house, Neil might have found the balance he craves but thought was too much to ask for. Isaac, though, has only ever had that kind of connection with Neil. Will the Dom be able to get on board and love both men as they, and he, deserve?

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Chapter 1 

 

“I appreciate this, Isaac. I apologize for the lack of notice.” 

Lack of notice? It wasn’t like Cyrus could possibly have known that his client was going to die, let alone when. Tragedy wasn’t something to be scheduled, though it was just like Cyrus to wish he could. Isaac put his cell phone on speaker and set it on the desk, then opened his briefcase beside it. 

“Don’t worry about a thing, Cyrus. Alain can stay with me while you’re in Texas, and until you’ve got your balance back. It’ll be fine.” 

He started stuffing files into his briefcase. He was going to have to get some work done at home tonight, and possibly reschedule some of his patients tomorrow, but Cyrus Hughes was the sort of man who helped everyone else; it was a rare thing that he asked for help himself and there was nothing Isaac wouldn’t do for him. 

“Thank you. I can’t predict how the next few days will go, but—” 

“Cy. Alain will be just fine with me. I understand his needs, and I’m happy to do this. Just focus on yourself for a few days, for god’s sake.” He knew what Cyrus was going through losing a client; he’d lost a few patients over the years himself. Those feelings could be incredibly difficult. 

Cyrus sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “Yes. I’ve got some…things to work through.” 

He snorted. “Feelings, Cyrus. They’re called feelings. Give it time. Go get your closure.” 

Cyrus cleared his throat. “Thank you, Isaac. I’ll be in touch.” 

“Take care. Safe travels.” Isaac hung up the phone, closed his briefcase and headed out. Once settled in his cab he called Neil to see if he was available. This would be easier as a two-man job. 

“Hola, Guapo.” 

Isaac rolled his eyes at the nickname. Neil Morrow had latched onto the compliment upon their first meeting, and he absolutely refused to give up on it. 

“Hey, there. What’s your schedule tonight? Are you free? I need you to help me with something…or, well, someone.” 

Neil chuckled softly, but there was something raw about the sound. “I’m on a week’s leave without pay, thanks, so I’m in. I just got to my apartment.” 

A week would work, but…what? He was going to have to unpack this with Neil more formally later. “Without pay? Sounds like we have something to talk about. But I have to be honest, it’ll have to wait, because this is a bit of an emergency. Can you meet me at Cy’s place? Alain’s going to stay with me for a bit.” 

“Sure, man. No worries. You want me to drive over or not?” 

“Yes, please. We’ll have to pack a suitcase for him. Cy will be gone when we get there, because he had to fly to Texas for a funeral.” Cy said the doorman was expecting them and would let them in. 

“Texas? Like my Texas? Who died?” 

Neil’s Texas. Seriously? 

He could hear the door close, and Neil started heading down the stairs toward the garage. 

“No, Texas, New Jersey. Yes, idiot. Your Texas. One of his clients hung himself. A sub.” Most of Cyrus’s clients were subs. Maybe all of them. 

“Oh fuck. That sucks hard, man. I’m sorry. Seriously. Did the little bit know the guy?” 

It did suck. “I didn’t get that impression. Cyrus had no intention of taking him along. He just doesn’t want Alain to be alone overnight.” He didn’t even know what Alain knew, or how the boy was going to feel about being dragged out of Cyrus’s place. “I hope he’s cool with this. I have no idea.” 

“If he freaks, I’ll call Peter. We hang out quite a bit.” 

“I love that your subby half has little friends,” he teased. He couldn’t help it. Peter was a good boy, and very, very taken. 

“Fuck off, Guapo. You don’t know what to do with me.” Neil’s laughter was warm, and Isaac could see Neil’s expression in his mind’s eye. 

If he was being honest, Neil was the handsome one. But he wasn’t planning on being that kind of honest today. “Oh yes I do. And I’m looking forward to what I get to do with you once we discuss why you’re on leave without pay.” 

His cab stopped at the curb, and he punched the button for a receipt out of habit. He didn’t need it; he wasn’t getting reimbursed for this house call. “I’m here.” 

“I’ll be there in twenty. Don’t scare the kid. He’s just a baby.” 

He rolled his eyes again. “Seriously, Neil? I’m not scary,” he replied, knowing damn well he could be a scary Dom if he wanted to be. Right now though he was just a friend. Maybe a doctor if need be, but mostly a friend. 

“Yeah, right. Terrifying. I’m the good cop. Mostly. See you in a bit.” The phone went dead. 

“Butthead.” He climbed out of his cab and went inside, where the doorman practically fell over himself to make sure he got into the apartment right away. Cyrus must have given him the fear of god or a big tip. Or both. 

Isaac hung his coat up and set his briefcase down in the foyer. Cyrus had a nice place, and this front area was where he greeted his clients so it was formal and tidy. “Alain?” He called out as he made his way down the hall. “It’s Isaac. Master Cyrus said you’d be expecting me.” 

The young man came out, expression more than a bit worried. “Dr. Isaac! La, did you hear? Poor Master Cyrus, losing that poor man.” 

“I know. He’ll be okay though; he’s going where he needs to be. You look good, Alain.” Worried, sure, but stronger. 

“Thank you, Sir. Master Cyrus has been a dear man. He’s taught me a lot, yessir. I’ve been working on finding a job, something good so I ain’t leaning all the time on the good men in my life.” 

“That’s admirable. Do you think you want to wait tables again?” New York restaurants were loud and full of people, and he wondered if Alain was ready for that after everything he’d been through. 

“No, Sir. I was thinking about cooking. I make some good southern food, me. Gumbo, jambalaya, shrimps, muffuletta—I know it all.” There was a confidence in the boy now, a tentative happiness that was new and appealing. 

“That sounds great. I remember Peter told me you liked to cook. You should cook for me sometime, I’d love that.” Okay, now for the hard part. “Did Master Cyrus explain what was going on? I need you to pack a bag so you can stay with me for a little while.” 

“He did, yeah. He said he didn’t think I was ready for a weekend all alone.” 

Poor kid. “He cares about you. He just wants to make sure you’re looked after, because that’s what a Dom does, right?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a little full-time Dom life for a few days. 

“Yes, Sir, and I’m grateful that you both care about me. Thank you ever so.” So polite. 

And pretty too, with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “It’s my pleasure. Let’s get you packed up.” He put a hand on Alain’s shoulder and steered him toward the guest room Alain had been using. 

The room was simple, but comfortable, with a bed and dresser, a green quilt over a rack. Alain seemed to be living out of a duffel instead of the drawers that Cyrus had provided, and it only took seconds to grab hair- and toothbrush. 

“Neil’s coming for us, bringing his truck. We’ll get you settled at my place. My guest room isn’t this big, but it has a nice view. This is…this is everything?” He’d have to talk with Cyrus when the man returned from Texas. 

“It is. There weren’t much left in the apartment, eh, and Peter dealt with what all was there.” Alain offered him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach the dark eyes. “Are you hungry? I can cook you something…” 

Right. Alain and Peter’s apartment had been ransacked after Alain was assaulted at that club. Neil had told him all about it. What an awful thing. It had to make everything feel so much worse. “Thank you, boy, but it’s late. I think we should get you settled in so you can rest. I’ll take you up on that tomorrow night though, how does that sound?” 

“Whatever you need, Sir. I’ll be good as Granny’s couche-couche, hmm?” 

He chuckled as he nodded. “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds dirty.” He assumed it wasn’t, but man… Alain literally spoke another language. 

“Yummy, more. Although, it’s good for a lazy breakfast after getting it on, eh?” 

“That sounds like a good morning to me.” Good Lord. The way Alain said “getting it on” was the next best thing to the actual act. How did Cyrus live with this delicious boy without losing his mind? 

“A la! I hear that. Master Cyrus don’t have no sexy times. He ain’t into me one bit, but he’s been so dear, and me? I learned all the things, I swear.” 

“Master Cyrus is a good man.” A good man with blue balls apparently. “Once you learn things, then you have to go out and use them though. Right? I’m interested in hearing about what you’ve learned.” 

A submissive’s work was Cyrus’s specialty, and that meant addressing someone’s whole self. Helping them figure out what they needed and then giving it to them. 

The buzzer went off in the hall. 

“Oh, that’ll be Neil. Are you almost ready?” He hurried down the hall to tell the doorman to let Neil up. 

“Yes, Sir. You want to meet him down there?” Alain looked so little carrying that big duffel. 

He looked little because he was little. He was like half of Neil. “That’s a good idea.” He hit the intercom. “Ask Neil to wait, please. We’ll be right down.” 

So there, Neil. He thought smugly as they got in the elevator. I didn’t scare him or make him cry. 

The big, buff blond waited at the bottom of the elevator. “Hey, y’all. Lord, give me that duffel, kiddo. You’re gonna collapse under the weight.” 

He’d known Neil would offer to get Alain’s bag, which was why he hadn’t. “Hi.” It was tempting to kiss Neil’s cheek, but things with Neil were…complicated right now. Hell, Neil was complicated all the time. With Alain here, Isaac wasn’t even sure which Neil he was dealing with. The switch was really good at walking that middle line. 

Sometimes they were friends, sometimes Dom and sub, sometimes one or the other with wild benefits. But he wasn’t everything Neil needed. That just wasn’t possible. 

So, no kiss. Just a smile. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Any time.” Neil didn’t look at him, just took the bag, and when Alain gasped, Isaac was totally surprised. 

“Lord have mercy, what happened to you, Jole Blon?” 

“Fistfight. I won.” 

“Sure you did. You come from Texas.” 

Won…and lost a week of work without pay. He wasn’t sure he’d call that winning. “Let me see, Neil.” 

“It’s no big deal, Doc…” 

Oh. Doc. That meant stitches. 

“Fine. Take us home. I’ll look at it later.” He didn’t want to argue in front of Alain. Now that he knew Neil was hurt, he didn’t want to argue at all; in fact, he wanted Neil to answer his questions with “Yes, Sir.” But that was going to have to wait until Alain was tucked in. “Car?” 

“Right here.” The big SUV was an extravagance, but Neil used it for work with the Special Victims Division, and at times like these, it came in handy. 

They got Alain settled in the back seat and headed home. “Are you okay? Did you start it?” 

“Seven stitches. He deserved it, and I’d do it again.” Neil’s lip curled. “I hate dirty cops.” 

He sighed. “Neil. You can’t save the whole world by yourself.” How many times had he said that? 

“You gon’ have a neat scar, Officer,” Alain murmured. 

“I can try, though. I can sure as shit try.” 

He rested a hand on Neil’s thigh and let it be. It was too soon; Neil was still too angry. “Alain’s right. You’re going to have a fancy Frankenstein scar.” 

“You’ll check the stitches and make sure they’re right. You always do.” Neil’s huge, bruised hand covered his. 

“I will.” I’ll take care of you. “Alain’s offered to make dinner tomorrow night. I hope you’ll join us.” 

“Sure. I got no plans but watching TV in my apartment for a week. Whatcha cookin’, Cajun?” 

“Couche-couche first, then whatever Mister Doctor Sir asks for.” 

“Yeah? I ain’t had Cajun breakfast in ten hundred years.” Neil chuckled softly. “I don’t know that Doc has cornmeal or a cast iron skillet, kiddo.” 

“Well, that might be the first thing we do tomorrow. Shopping. What do you think, boy? Are you ready to try some food shopping?” He thought maybe he had cast iron, but Neil did all the cooking in his kitchen, so he’d know better. 

“Oh, yes, Sir. I know groceries. I can fix you all whatever.” 

“I’ll leave the menu to you, boy.” Alain seemed happy to be going out. That was good. So tonight he’d deal with Neil, and tomorrow the boys would have a nice day. He glanced at Neil. “You know where to park.” 

“I do. It’s almost like I’ve been here once before.” Someone was pushing hard, daring him to take control and give Neil what he needed. 

“Then you know what to expect,” he replied. He didn’t snap, but his tone was a bit curt. Dry. Don’t test me in front of Alain, boy. Had he known Neil was going to be a handful, he might have handled his evening differently. But here they were, and he would deal it. He refused to let Neil ruffle his feathers while Alain was watching. 

“I do.” Neil chuckled softly and parked the SUV. “I swear, my head’s so big I’m going to explode with a terrifying kaboom.” 

“I’ll have a look at it. You get some ice and some Tylenol when we get inside, please.” He got out of the cop-mobile, grateful for his long legs, and opened the door for Alain, who climbed down like he was scaling Mount Kilimanjaro. 

Neil stepped out and went around to pull out Alain’s duffel, hauling it up on his shoulder. 

It was strange to be more concerned about Neil than Alain at the moment. Alain had recovered well from his assault physically, and it seemed like time with Cyrus had really helped him emotionally too. He and Neil had had long discussions themselves at the time to get past their own anger that someone could try to claim to be in their community and abuse a boy so terribly. Neil had saved the world then too and put the men responsible behind bars. 

He’d never asked what condition those assholes had been in when they arrived at the station. He really hadn’t needed to. 

“Alain, the guest room is here.” He stopped in the hall. “It’s pretty small. There are sheets in that chest against the back wall.” 

“It’s perfect, Mister Doctor. Thank you for letting me stay. I surely appreciate you.” God, that voice was sweet, lilting, and Isaac liked the way it reminded him of music. 

“I’m glad to have you. It will be good to catch-up.” He stepped aside to let Neil put the duffel down on the bed, then caught his sometimes sub by the arm. “Tylenol. Ice. Did you eat?” 

“Not since last night. Spaghetti.” Neil let him look, the stitches starting near his eye and leading across his temple, the gunpowder stippling obvious. 

Someone had shot at Neil, at close range. 

He swallowed hard against the sick feeling in his stomach and caught Neil by the nape, finding the hazel eyes and looking into them. He didn’t hide his frown or his worry and tried to say something, anything. He couldn’t find the right words, and gave up, pulling Neil into a tight hug. 

Neil trembled in his arms, arms wrapping around to hold him tight, and that spoke volumes, those heavily muscled arms keeping him close. 

“Jesus, Neil.” He told himself he was allowed to be upset for a minute. That gunpowder was fucking terrifying, and he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. “I’ve got you. You’re okay now.” 

Alain was doing his best to look invisible, sitting on the end of the bed with his nose in some magazine Isaac had obviously left there. Such a good boy. He wondered if he should ask Alain to throw something together for Neil after all. 

“Let me stay a minute?” Neil whispered, the sound so very soft. “Please, Sir?” 

“You’re staying the night, boy. I insist.” That was that. Neil had been clear, finally, so the rest was up to him. “Alain, could I trouble you to make something easy on the stomach for Neil, please? Just help yourself to my kitchen.” 

“Yes, Sir!” Alain’s face lit up. “I’m on it. Poor chou. That looks like it hurt.” 

“I’m okay, kiddo. Don’t you worry.” 

“I’ll cook. You’ll be so good. You see.” Alain grinned at them both and slipped past them into the hall. 

“The kitchen is at the far end.” 

Alain nodded and hurried down the hall. 

Isaac let Neil go but kept hold of one hand. “Let’s sit. I want to know what happened.” 

 

Title: Wholly Trinity
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09RLMLV4G

Seeds and Sunshine

September 12, 2023 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: East Meets Western #4
Genre: , , , , , , ,
Release Date: September 19, 2023
Pages: 211

Shiloh Williams lost his husband in the bullriding ring two years ago and hasn’t been able to move on. It’s been so long since he was happy he’s forgotten how to be. After making the long drive up to Vermont to visit friends, he finally decides that getting out of Texas might be the only way to leave the hard days of his past behind.

Tate Dutton is a high school math teacher in Burlington, and a part time driver for a local brewery in the evenings. It takes more than his teacher’s salary to keep his small dairy farm afloat, but he loves it so much, he doesn’t mind the extra work.

Shiloh has taken up residence in the back booth of a local bar where he’ll nurse one whiskey all night long. Tate has seen the cowboy many times, as it’s his favorite hangout too. The first time Tate stumbles into a conversation with Shiloh it doesn’t go so well, but Tate doesn’t seem to get the hint and before long Shiloh has no choice but to indulge the younger man.

Is there any hope for these two? Time will tell whether the grumpy Shiloh or the sunny Tate proves to be more stubborn, or if friends will interfere and bring them together.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:
Cover for Cowboy for Sale, featuring a man in a cowboy hat wearing a checkered shirt.

 

Chapter 1 

 

Jesus, Matty. I can’t do this anymore without you. I’m trying, I swear to God, but I’m…lost. 

Shiloh Williams stared into the two fingers of whiskey he’d been nursing for an hour. There was just enough for a sip left. Enough for him to swoosh around and pretend that the lights swirling madly were because he was drunk and not because his eyes were filled with unshed tears. 

He came in here to this little hole in the wall every night and sat at the back of the bar. He handed Kris a twenty, took his whiskey to the back booth, and stayed until closing time when it would be too late to disturb Skyler with a phone call, too late to do anything but walk down to the weird little apartment he’d rented on the fourth floor of one of the old downtown buildings. 

An apartment, baby? Seriously? You’re in a shitty efficiency apartment? My gardener? My baby that could spend hours in the yard, in the garden? In the greenhouse I had built for you? 

“Shut up, Matty,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking tired.” 

Shiloh had been exhausted for twenty-six months now. Worn totally to the bone since Percy’s Mission had managed to buck Matty off and hook a horn under his vest. Just as Lane Frost had died, Matty had been gone before they got him off the arena dirt. 

Matty’d been gone by the time that Shiloh had climbed into the ambulance. 

It was like his soul had bled out with Matty’s heart, in Dallas. 

Eventually he’d had enough of Texas. Maybe that was why, after damn near two years of insisting there was no possible way, he hadn’t argued much when Sky invited him up north for his charity event again. 

Now he was here, and he had stayed in Sky’s guest room for a month before he’d just sold everything barring the things that Matty’s folks had wanted to take and rented himself a place up here. He had all the buckles, the pictures, the shirt Matt had worn the day they got married and the one he’d died in. That was enough. 

“Hey, man.” 

Shiloh knew that kid. He came in with his friends a few times a week and played darts or pool or watched the TV. By this point, he knew a lot of faces, mostly because folks would wander by on the way to the head. This kid was the only one that acknowledged him, though, always giving him a wave before disappearing into the men’s room. 

He tipped his hat, offering the kid something that should look like a smile even if it didn’t feel like one. He got a sunny smile in return, so he must have faked it well. 

“Whoops. Occupied.” The kid backed out of the back area where the bathrooms were, chuckling and leaned against his booth. “That’s always so embarrassing, you know? Going for the doorknob and trying to turn it like four times, and by the time you figure out it’s locked someone’s shouting at you to wait a minute, which you didn’t hear over the music, and you’re like, sorry man! Ugh.” 

He arched an eyebrow, but he got that. “Nice thing about this seat. I know when someone comes out.” 

The kid blinked at Shiloh sort of like he’d grown a second head or something. 

“You okay?” If this kid was fixin’ to have a stroke, he was leaving without his last sip. 

“Oh!” The kid laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking how brilliant that is.” 

That wasn’t something that he’d ever heard about himself. “Well, thank you kindly, sir. I appreciate that.” 

Now go on and let me wallow. 

A man hurried past them headed back toward the bar. “You’re welcome. My turn!” The kid pushed off the booth and moved away. 

He caught himself chuckling. Jesus, what a dork, but there was something harmless about him. 

Across the bar the guy’s friends were playing darts and one of them did something to make everyone cheer. He couldn’t see what it was, but when the kid came jogging out of the bathroom, they pounced on him. “Next round is on you, Tate!” 

“What? Dude, Dave did not win while I was gone. Someone cheated. This is a setup!” The kid—Tate—was laughing, eyes wide, but he was already pulling out his wallet. “I demand a rematch.” 

“Rematch! Rematch!” 

Christ, he remembered being that young and happy. Sort of. A long time ago. 

Maybe. 

Shiloh sighed softly and finished his drink. Time to go. He had reruns of Iron Chef America to watch.

Title: Seeds and Sunshine
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CG4VJGQS

Rich Girl

January 6, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne
Series: Sapphic #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: January 30, 2024

A Summit Springs shared-world Novel.

Rich Girl is a secret heir, opposites attract, millionairess and single mom romance set in the fictional universe of Summit Springs Colorado.

Scarlett Lennon died in a skiing accident five years ago, leaving behind secrets she’d been keeping to protect herself, her inheritance and her fiancée, Ella.

Single mom Ella Anderson works as a dispatcher for the mountain rescue squad in Summit Springs, Colorado. She is doing her best to make ends meet while she raises her five year old son on her own. She adores little Theo, and although she would never complain, she doesn’t have time for anyone else.

Natalie Lennon, is the youngest daughter of the Lennon family, who owns Pines Peak ski resort, and whose great wealth is well known in town and beyond. She has no career, no girlfriend, and no direction. What she does have is a lot of money. She’s grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, not understanding at all what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck.

The two meet by coincidence in the Emergency Room late one night, where Natalie uses her clout to get Ella’s feverish and very sick little boy seen quickly, even insisting that Theo be seen ahead of herself.

Ella remembers Natalie, even though Nalatie doesn’t recognize her. The chance meeting touches off something bigger than either woman is ready for. Not just an unexpected relationship, but a dive into the past that shines a light on Natalie’s big sister Scarlett’s secrets, and the truth about Theo.

 

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Title: Rich Girl
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CPH5L1XM
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-98-7

Bigger Than Us

October 31, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: November 23, 2021
Pages: 240

When Daniel McCaverty gets the call that his best friend and mentor up in Vermont has cancer, he expects to have plenty of time to go help. He never expects that Adam will be gone before he can get there, or that he will suddenly be in charge of Adam’s two small children. He’s a loner, an artist, and a wanderer. What’s he supposed to do now?

Mitchell Brown is a white-collar kind of guy. Organized. Careful. He has a plan in place for Adam’s kids long before Daniel arrives, and is shocked when Daniel is given custody. But for Vicky and Emory, he’s willing to put his hurt and confusion aside to help Daniel figure things out, to make the whole situation work.

Daniel and Mitch have to deal with a tidal wave of grief while getting one kid started in school, and keeping up with their work. But they’re going to have to figure out their unexpected attraction to each other if they’re going to build something together that’s bigger than either one of them alone.

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Chapter One 

 

“Jesus, Adam.” Daniel McCaverty had made it through the five a.m. flight from the Sunport, through Dallas and O’Hare. He’d made it through baggage here in Burlington and through the fucking line at Enterprise. He’d managed to drive about a mile before he looked around this place that was familiar but not, and had to pull over, sobbing against the steering wheel while the radio played. 

Daniel hadn’t understood when Adam had called last month and said, “Kiddo, I’ve got cancer”. He’d thought, oh, surgery and chemo and radiation. It would be tough with the kids, but he could come out after he’d delivered his last canvases. He would help for a few weeks and, one day, they would laugh together over how Adam’s thick black and silver hair had been gone during that terrible time. 

That was what was supposed to happen. 

Not a phone call early in the week that he’d missed because he was up on Angel Fire, and there was no signal. And then when he’d called back three days later, scared at Adam’s voice, Adam’s words, Adam’s goodbye, it was over. 

Fuck him. He hadn’t understood. 

Adam had told him not to worry. 

He never once thought Adam would actually die. 

After the storm had passed, Daniel pulled back onto the road, making the trip to Adam’s neat house. He’d helped Adam and Tina with adding a bathroom and another bedroom one summer. Another year, they’d put the deck on. He’d painted the nursery—first with Adam and Tina, then with Adam alone. 

Little Vicki would know him, but the baby? Shit, he’d been brand new before Daniel had left to work for a few months. 

“What the fuck happened, Adam? Seriously. Nobody dies from cancer anymore! It’s all about surviving. Don’t you fucking watch commercials?” His words echoed in the car, and he rocked with the intensity of them. 

He could almost hear Adam snort at him, saying “You can’t believe everything you see on TV, Dan-O.” 

Yeah. Yeah, like he even owned a TV. That was what he got for trying to be ironic. 

He pulled into the long driveway, the Escalade rumbling through the ruts. Someone needed to grade this before winter. 

The trees around Adam’s place were turning colors, some of them already orange and red like fire. That, he’d seen before, but Daniel hardly recognized the man sitting on the front steps. It had to be Mitch Brown underneath the beard and the baseball hat, but the last time he’d seen Adam’s business partner, Mitch had been clean-cut and in a sharp suit and tie. 

Damn. 

He probably looked like a wild man. He hadn’t bothered to change from his work clothes, and his jeans were spattered with paint. Daniel parked and opened the door of the SUV. “Mitch? Hey. I—Hey.” 

Mitch looked up and stood slowly. 

“Uncle Daniel!” Little Victoria dropped the hula hoop she’d been playing with and ran toward him full tilt. 

“Vicki. Baby girl. C’mere.” He opened his eyes, the sweet little black curls shining in the fading sun. “I missed your pretty face.” 

“You came! Daddy said he had to go, but that you would come, and you did!” She squeezed him tight, little five-year-old arms circling his neck. 

“Of course I came.” He should have come earlier. Sooner. Weeks ago. He blinked hard, fighting his tears. 

Mitch cleared his throat. “I guess you had a long trip. Would you like some coffee? Vicki, baby, why don’t you take Uncle Daniel to the porch?” 

“I started at three this morning. Coffee is great. I don’t—I’m sorry, man. Y’all had been friends a long time.” 

“Yeah. Um…yeah. Not as long as you. I know this—it was pretty shocking and…hard.” 

“Uncle Mitch fixed the porch swing.” Vicki pulled on his hand, tugging him toward the porch. “Emory is napping. He sleeps all the time. Babies do that, but it’s boring.” 

“They do, and it is. Do you still like those genie toys? I have a color book of them in my backpack.” 

“For me?” Vicki smiled at him like he’d hung the moon, as if she hadn’t just lost her father. Five had to be so complicated. 

“Yeah, for you. I’ll grab them in a second.” He’d brought a suit bag and his backpack. 

“Have a seat, I’ll get us some coffee.” Mitch disappeared into the house, leaving him there with Vicki. 

“Did you know my daddy died?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I just found out last night. I came straight away.” 

“He was really sick. He slept a lot, like Emory.” Vicki climbed up on the porch swing. “He missed you though. He told me so. I knew you’d come.” 

“He was my best friend, and you’re my god-girl. Of course, I came.” Jesus, Adam. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? 

She patted the swing next to him and leaned hard once he sat. “Good.” She sighed and flopped over, lying her head in his lap. 

She was asleep by the time Mitch came back with two mugs of coffee. “She’s been waiting for you. Adam’s—” Mitch bit his lips together and shook his head, handing him a mug before sitting in a rocking chair. “The promise was important to her.” 

“I came as soon as I knew. I had no idea it was so bad.” 

“Well, to be fair I don’t think he really believed it would be so fast.” Mitch’s voice was rough and dry. Anyone could see how tired he was. “I should have just called. He wanted to do it himself, but I should have. It’s just that I was here with the kids and helping him deal with his doctors and I… I’m sorry.” 

“I am too. I would have come to help. You have to know that. I would have come.” He wasn’t a shit. He loved Adam and these kids to death. 

“You know Adam. He was private, and he didn’t even like me helping. I think he wanted people to remember him healthy.” Mitch sipped his coffee and tugged his ball cap down lower. “This is…so fucked up.” 

“Yes. More than. Did he—is your business stuff okay?” He knew Mitch and Adam had run an advertising agency, but that was really all he knew about that. 

Mitch shook his head. “I don’t know. We have good people working for us, so I’m going to hope, but these last few weeks I haven’t… I checked out of work.” 

“I can only imagine.” He sort of wanted to give the guy a hug. More than that, he wanted to leave, find a hotel room and drink. He wouldn’t, because obviously Mitch had been working his ass off dealing with shit and needed a hand, but that didn’t alter his wanting. 

“I’m just going to try to look ahead now. The kids need that. I need to get them a new routine. It’s a couple of weeks late but I can still get Vicki into kindergarten, and I guess I’ll find a nanny for Emory. They need some stability. Then I can get my head back to work.” 

“Wow. Kindergarten? Already? She’s just so little…” Surely she wasn’t that old yet, right? 

“I know, but she turned five in July. I remember Adam saying at one point that he was going to sign her up but he…didn’t.” Mitch glanced at him under the brim of his hat. “So, how’s the…your art going?” 

“It’s good. I got my last show in on time.” He always felt weird talking about his paintings. He always had. It just felt strange. 

“So that’s going on now, without you there?” 

“Yes. My manager deals with the sales and the galleries. I just paint the canvases. I spend most of my time searching for the right environment to inspire.” It was an oversimplification, but it was still true. 

“Sounds nice. Where did you fly in from?” 

“Albuquerque. I was up on Angel Fire. I called as soon as I got signal. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have—” He wouldn’t have missed saying goodbye. 

“I was with him when he called you. He said he knew you were busy doing what you loved. It made him smile. He didn’t—” Mitch cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was even rougher than before. “He didn’t call anyone else. Just you. I’m sorry, I haven’t really processed any of this, I just—these kids are so important. I’m just a little tired.” 

“It’s okay. You can be—whatever you need to be. I’m serious. You can feel whatever you have to.” He didn’t know how else to do it. 

Mitch glanced up, blue eyes searching his. He wondered what they were looking for. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I do.” 

Daniel stroked Vicki’s hair. “You poor baby. You had to lose both your folks, didn’t you? Well, you got people that love you more than the world. Don’t you worry.” 

Adam had obviously intended for Mitch to take the kids, so he’d send money and stay as long as they needed. He wouldn’t let them hurt for anything. 

“It sucks. It just sucks. But they have me. You. Friends. They have people. I didn’t.” 

The baby started wailing somewhere inside the house. “Emory. He’ll be hungry.” Mitch hauled himself out of his chair. 

“Do you need help?” He wasn’t sure he could move. Hell, he didn’t want to go inside that house. 

“Yes. Stay right there with Victoria.” Mitch touched her cheek, then headed for the front door. “That’s the deepest sleep she’s had in days. I’ll bring Emory out once he’s fed.” 

“Okay.” He swung with her, singing for her, random songs that he knew. He spent a lot of time in life singing along with the radio. This much he could do. 

Title: Bigger Than Us
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09KWNL6P9
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-66-6