Razor’s Edge

November 24, 2019 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: January 21, 2020

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

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

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

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

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

Also in this series:

Excerpt 

Chapter One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel led him out to that big Harley.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. This was fucking about him.

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

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

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

“We need you out here, Tommy.”

“Angel?”

“Now, Tommy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck was wrong with him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thomas.

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

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

“What? Are you kidding?”

“He keeps saying he has to go.”

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

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

He was going to have to leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He heard Thomas snort.

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

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

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

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

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

A shower, a bowl of cereal, snuggling.

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

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

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

“I vote we electrify the doorknob.”

His words drew a harsh laugh from Angel.

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

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

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

“Gina is on her way.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thomas just gave him a shake of the head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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Hide Bound

December 28, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #2
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: January 18, 2022
Pages: 276

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

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

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

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

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Chapter One 

 

“What are you looking at, Peter?” 

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

“Classifieds.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re a contractor, right?” 

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

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

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

“Okay, no more talking. I’m working.” 

He gave Shane a thumbs up and closed his eyes. 

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

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

He did like a few bruises. 

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

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

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

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

Another reason Shane was one of his favorites. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Real work. Custom work. 

Must have experience. Blah blah blah. 

No sweat. 

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

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

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

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

Roped In

March 16, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #2
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: May 10, 2022

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but sometimes distance makes people drift apart.

Rope Canutt has announced his retirement from bull riding and is making the most of his final year on the circuit, riding the big shows and resting in between so he can finish the season on a high note. He isn’t sure what’s next for him. He has no plan yet and nowhere to go, especially since his family sold their ranch a few years back.

Jude Sharpe remembers Rope fondly from their younger days in Austin. Mostly he remembers how hot the rodeo cowboy was and how much fun they had hooking up every time their paths crossed. That was a long time ago, and Jude’s been married and lost his husband to cancer in the years since they’ve seen each other. Now he’s raising a son alone.

When bull riding comes to New York City, Jude’s consulting firm uses their private box to entertain clients from Houston, and Jude brings his son Silas along to see the show. Rope is riding and Jude hopes to introduce Silas to a real bull rider. They’ve each lived a whole lifetime apart, and Jude and Rope aren’t sure how much they have in common anymore. So will they be drawn to each other when their paths cross again?

The books in this series are standalones and can be read in any order.

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

Also in this series:

 

Chapter One 

 

“Can I get a hat?” 

“No, you don’t need a hat, buddy.” 

“Daddy! Everyone here has a cowboy hat on.” 

Ah, the familiar refrain of how life wasn’t fair. Jude shrugged. “I don’t.” 

Silas rolled his eyes. “Please?” 

“Not tonight, bud.” 

Jude could understand why Silas wanted a hat; what kid didn’t want to be a cowboy? At seven, Silas was right at that age where he was impressed with every kind of uniform. But growing up in New York, Silas had seen lots of cops and firefighters and construction workers. He hadn’t ever seen cowboys that weren’t on TV. 

It had been a long time since Jude had seen one too. In fact, he wasn’t all that comfortable being here tonight. But he and several colleagues were entertaining clients and their families to celebrate the closing of their latest deal and skipping out wasn’t an option. 

Usually the firm went for hockey or basketball games, but this client was a big investment firm based outside Houston, so the marketing team had given them the hospitality suite for night one of the annual bull riding event at Madison Square Garden. 

Bull riders. Yeah. That had been a lifetime ago. 

“See? They have hats too!” As they approached the suite, Silas pointed to a handful of kids with little plastic cowboy hats on. 

Now, that was a possibility. “You want one of those?” 

“Please, Daddy?” 

“Hey, Jude! We’re right in here.” 

The Beatles song played in his mind. Yes, even at thirty-four years old, he did it too. 

“Hey, David. Whoa, Silas! Look at all of this.” He led Silas inside and showed him the buffet, which was set up in front of a backdrop of a big red barn. At the end of the buffet was a stack of swag, including the plastic cowboy hats, pins, and T-shirts. 

“Hats!” Silas looked at him for permission, and he nodded. Free swag for the win. 

“Lord have mercy, this is a good spread.” One of the wives with cotton candy hair and smoky eyes smiled at him. “Seriously. This is wild—I came all the way from Texas to New York to see a bull riding.” 

Her husband had brought her here so he could sign what was probably the most lucrative deal of his career, but he wasn’t going to say that. Jack was a good client and a better person. “It’s a novelty here. Something we only get to see on TV. It’s popular though, they say it sells out every year. Have you been to New York before?” 

“No, strangely enough. I’ve been to Boston, DC, LA, but this is my first time here. It’s so fun. I’ve had a ball exploring.” When she bounced, her earrings and boobs bounced, but her hair didn’t move. 

He remembered this was work and didn’t stare, but that was fascinating. A cheer went up and he glanced toward the arena floor. Whoever that cowboy was must have made his eight. “I like that sound.” 

“Daddy! Daddy, that cow’s butt is dirty!” 

He glanced over in time to see a shit-covered bull backside up on the big screen. Yay. 

“Yep, that’s pretty gross.” He shook his head and grinned at Jack’s wife. She had a name. He’d been introduced, but he couldn’t remember. “Kids.” 

“Aren’t they amazing? I have five at home, so I totally feel you.” She winked at Silas. “At least it’s not smell-o-vision, right?” 

Silas wrinkled his nose. “Ew.” 

“Did you get a drink, Jude? Oh, hey, Camilla. Things are starting to heat up out there, I think Jack has a seat for you.” 

Camilla. He would never have remembered that. David to the rescue. 

David leaned over close. “Apparently between the sections, they’ll send cowboys up to make nice and sign things, so that will be exciting.” 

“Oh yeah? A bunch of Wrangler butts. Should be a good time.” And a little too close for comfort. “Probably not the celebrity types though, right?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I’m just pleased that they are sending people up. It will go over well with the Texans, I think.” 

“Oh. For sure. Did you see Kevin’s email? He’s already gunning for more work with them.” David handed him a beer. “Thanks.” 

“I’m not sure bull riding is my thing. Most of these guys are just getting tossed.” 

“Sometimes it starts slow. It gets more exciting as the night goes on.” 

David raised a curious eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were a fan.” 

“I have…friends that ride. Had a friend. A while ago.” And it was time to shut his mouth. 

“Really? You? That’s—fascinating. Seriously. I wouldn’t have imagined.” David’s eyes went wide. 

“No, most people wouldn’t. It’s like you and your pre-grad school singing career.” He winked at David and held out his beer. “Cheers.” 

“Right. Cheers. That’s cool.” David rolled his eyes and looked out the window. “I’m going to go make sure everyone’s having a good time.” 

“Sounds good.” That worked like a charm. 

“Daddy, can we watch?” Silas had a huge hot dog in one hand and a Coke in the other. 

“Yes. Let me take that Coke.” He took it, and left it on the counter, trading it for a bottle of water instead and leading the way out to the leather-covered seats. “We’re watching in style, bud. Check it out.” 

“Whoa!” 

He let Silas choose where to sit and settled in next to him. 

“Have you ever been on a cow, Daddy? Do you think it hurts when they fall? How does the cow know what to do?” Silas was bright-eyed, watching everything from the gate pullers to the clown. 

“I haven’t been on one, but I can tell you that it definitely hurts when they fall.” He had no idea how the bulls knew what to do, but they definitely knew they had a job out there. 

He looked at the card that had been on his seat, which listed who was riding when, and scanned it, knowing he’d find the rider he was looking for. He didn’t know why he was so anxious about running into Rope Canutt again, because that was years ago. Another lifetime. But it had been less of a breakup and more of a fizzle, and he’d always felt badly for not ending it right. 

Apparently not badly enough to quit being a coward and pick up the phone, though. 

Rope was on the list, sure enough, in the fourth section of riders. Not at the end with the most famous guys, not at the beginning with the newbies, but in the middle. 

That wasn’t surprising; he knew Rope was retiring at the end of this season. Jude had been checking in over the years, watching him ride, following Rope’s career. Not like a hard-core fan, but with interest. At arm’s length. 

“Daddy!” A rider went down, the bullfighters doing their jobs, and Silas was out of his seat. 

He didn’t know that kid from a hole in the wall, but his heart started racing, and he gripped his fingers together to keep them from shaking. He made himself look away and just breathe, pretending to study the sheet on his lap, and after a few seconds he had everything under control. 

Okay. 

“All good, bud?” Jude picked up his beer and took a sip. 

“That was scary. Is he okay?” Silas glanced up at him, and he could see the hint of panic, just right there. 

Jude took Silas’s hand and pulled him back into his seat. “He’ll be fine. These cowboys are tough. They do this all the time. Did you get to see the bullfighters running that bull off? Pretty cool, huh?” He was the king of redirecting. 

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re brave, huh? Like you?” 

Well, that made him feel ten feet tall. “Even braver. Like you.” He put an arm around Silas’s shoulders and squeezed. Damn. It had been long enough that he hadn’t even thought about whether this would be hard for either of them. He decided that was mostly a good thing—there was a time when he’d thought about it constantly. 

Losing Nigel had been more than hard, closer to impossible, and he still wasn’t sure some days that he and Silas would be okay. 

They had to be, though. Especially Silas. “I heard there might be some cowboys coming up to do autographs, bud.” 

“Yeah? What will they sign?” 

“Anything you want. Maybe your program?” he suggested. 

“Can I get a picture too?” 

“Probably. I don’t see why not.” Silas wouldn’t be the only one wanting pictures. 

“That’s cool! A real cowboy, Daddy. We’re going to meet a real-life cowboy.” 

Okay, that smile was worth every second of this. “Awesome, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, awesome.” Silas grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “They’re going to go again. Are you ready?” 

Maybe? “Yes. Watch the gate.” He held on just as tight as the gate flew open and the bull leapt out. 

The cowboy flew off as soon as the bull cleared the gate. That was going to leave a bruise. 

“Oops.” He winced. 

“Ouch,” Silas said at the same time, and they looked at each other and laughed. 

“If it were easy everyone would do it, right?” 

“I guess so. I’d be scared, I think, to get up on one of those.” 

“I would too. That is definitely not a sport for me. Are you scared to watch too? We don’t have to if it’s not fun for you. It’s okay.” 

“No. I want to. I want to know how they do it.” That was his son—so interested in why and how things worked. 

“Okay.” He remembered watching Rope on event weekends, signing autographs. He complained about the adults sometimes, but never the kids. Maybe he could suck up his regret if… “Well, I think someone pretty cool is coming up in a bit. He’s a former champion, and he’s really good.” 

“Yeah? What’s his name? Do you know him? Is he nice?” Silas couldn’t figure out whether to look at him or the arena floor. 

“His name is Rope, and he is nice.” And fun and cocky and hot as hell. “I did know him a long time ago. Long before you and Dad, and even before I got my job.” He pointed to the floor. “Behind the gate, the rider is getting his rope all ready, the one that he holds onto. And the other guys are helping him get focused for his ride.” 

“So…he just holds onto the rope? He’s not tied in?” 

Silas was really thinking about this. It was kind of wonderful. “It’s wrapped really tight around a glove on his hand. He has to be able to let go so he can get off the bull. They can’t tie him in, right?” 

“No. No, that would be scary and dangerous, huh?” Look at those wide eyes. 

“That’s right. They do everything they can to make it less dangerous. You watch his head, and when you see him nod, the gate will open fast.” 

He remembered Rope, bragging in that way guys did at nineteen, telling him all about how everyone out there had a job to do. The guy pulling his rope, the guy holding his vest, the bullfighters, even the bull had a job. Eight seconds went by so fast everyone had to have their heads in the game. 

He got it a little bit, really. They’d broken up because they both had to have their heads in their respective games, and they couldn’t change that. 

Now that he was explaining things to Silas, he was starting to look forward to seeing Rope ride in person. 

“You’re going to have to have a cowboy explain all the spurring and the balance things… I don’t know much about how that’s done. I just know that the harder the ride, the higher the points.” 

“Don’t forget the bull is half the points. That’s real important.” 

Jude would know that voice anywhere. 

Anywhere. 

Rope Canutt stood there like a bent and broken angel, an ancient scar from a roping accident splitting the man’s lower lip. 

He stood and looked Rope over, finally meeting those green eyes that had fascinated him so long ago. He supposed he ought to see more age, but all he saw was the crooked smile and handsome face that he remembered. 

He had no idea what to say. 

And his mouth had gone dry anyway. 

He patted Silas’s shoulder. “Silas, this is Mister Canutt. He’s a bull rider.” 

Silas’s eyes grew wide. “For real?” 

“Yes, sir. For real. Rope, pleased to meet you, Silas. Are you enjoying the event?” Rope held his hand out to Silas, the smile warm. 

Jude had to smile back at the awed look on Silas’s face as his son shook hands with Rope. Silas nodded but didn’t say anything at all. 

“Silas is very curious about how it all works,” he offered, trying to help things along. 

“Well, you see them bulls? Stock contractors bring them up from all over the country. Buckin’ bulls are special types of livestock.” Rope kept jabbering, telling Silas how bull riding worked in that soft, lilting voice. 

Silas was riveted, listening to every word like it was so important. It was the first thing Silas had shown real interest in since they’d lost Nigel. 

“Can I see the bulls?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, bud. Rope is working, you know.” 

“Those beasts aren’t pets, but I might be able to introduce you to Harker’s horse, Jimbo, after the event.” 

“Really?” Silas’s eyes lit up. “Is that okay Daddy? Please? Can I?” 

He nodded. “If Rope can manage it, but you have to promise not to be upset if he can’t, okay?” Not that he really expected a seven-year-old to be able to keep a promise like that, but at least he could say he tried. 

“Okay! Thank you! Oh. I have to get a program so you can sign it!” Silas climbed right over the back of his seat and disappeared into the suite. 

“Harker won’t mind. He likes kids.” Rope held out his hand. “Jude.” 

“Rope.” He took the offered hand and shook it, grateful they’d had Silas as an ice breaker. “Thank you for all of that. It means more than you know.” 

“No problem. None at all. Good to see you, man.” He got this shit-eating grin. “You look fine.” 

“I was thinking the same about you.” He felt the tips of his ears heat up and he was surprised that Rope could still make him blush. “It’s nice to see you again. I’d ask how things are going, but I know. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” 

“Fixin’ to retire. Having my final year. Good stuff.” Rope smiled down at Silas and took a Sharpie out of his pocket, signing the program. “Here you go, little man. If you come down after the event, we’ll see Jimbo.” 

“Thank you!” Silas was so excited. 

“We’ll be there.” He wasn’t ready for Rope to walk away yet, but he wasn’t sure why. “Good ride.” 

“Every one you walk away from, yessir.” Rope shook Silas’s hand and his. “Looking forward to seeing y’all later.” 

He watched Rope go, enjoying the view of Rope’s ass in his Wranglers, and wondered if Rope was hoping he was watching.

Title: Roped In
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09VD8LB9T
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-72-7

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?

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 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

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

 

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

Keeping Promises

February 20, 2026 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: March 23, 2021
Pages: 262

Keeping Promises

Jeremy M. Dunn III has the single dad thing down, so the last thing he wants to do is call his ex-husband to ask for help with their two kids. They didn’t part on good terms, and they’ve barely spoken since the divorce. But with a cast on his arm that goes up past his elbow, Jeremy has no choice. He needs a few days to figure out how to bathe their daughter, make school lunches and parent their son one-armed, and there isn’t anyone else he can ask for help.

Former rodeo cowboy West Belen was already on his way back to his kids, and to Trey (“the third”, his nickname for Jeremy). He made a promise to try again, and he means to keep it, so when he sees his chance to move back into his family’s life, he grabs it like the brass ring he knows it is. He’s determined to be more than an “every other weekend” dad to his children, and he doesn’t want to keep on living with regret about how he and Trey ended.

Jeremy still desires West, but he isn’t sure he can trust West to be responsible and available. West still thinks Trey is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, but he has no idea how to convince the man he’s ready to settle down. The two of them have never had trouble butting heads, but now they need to learn to work together to make a home for themselves and their kids where they both belong.

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Excerpt

 

Chapter One

“Kiddo. Kiddo, you awake?” Hank’s voice jolted West upright from where he’d been dozing in the old recliner he’d moved near the hospital bed they’d put in the sunroom so Hank could see out the window and watch the hummingbirds.

“Yessir. You hurtin’? I can get Gretchen.” The little hospice nurse was on it. She lived two houses down, too, so it took her no time to show up.

“No. No, I just wanted to talk to you.” The hand that had been whole and strong three weeks ago was a sack of bruised bones, and West took it so carefully.

“Anytime. Anytime at all.” Hank had been his best friend, his mentor, his adopted father for as long as he could remember, and time was getting short. They could both sleep when Hank was dead.

“You’re a good man.” Hank stared at him, gray eyes seeming to blaze with light, and West thought maybe that was what happened when the best of them was being called home.

“I try. I’m not feeling all the way on that, you know.”

Hank shook his head. “No. You’ve been dealt some shit, but you have managed it. All of it.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “Thank you.”

“If you could go back and change anything in your life, what would it be?”

He rolled his eyes at Hank. “I would have bet on me two years ago in the finals.”

Hank swatted his hand. “I’m serious, boy. Tell me. It ain’t like I’m telling.”

West took a deep breath. He knew the answer to this one. He’d known it for two years, two months, three weeks, and four days. “I would have told Trey no when he asked for a divorce. I would have stuck like a burr and kept my kids and my husband and damn the consequences.”

Hank bobbed his head at him like a big, dying bird. “I hear you. I couldn’t have had a family like y’all did. I never will now.”

Shit. He didn’t say anything to that because he didn’t have anything to say. Hell, he’d lost his whole life—his kids, his husband, his house. He was working a job that was Friday through Sunday, and those were the days he could see Lukas and Ava. He got to keep his truck, his child support payments, and the knowledge that his ex hated him enough to make sure he had to choose between rodeoing or his babies.

Shit, why did he even want Trey back?

He guessed because he loved the son of a bitch.

“So, go make it right.”

West looked up, just utterly confused. “What?”

They were divorced. That meant it was over.

“Go home and fix it. You have a chance. You survived that last bad wreck; you can do this.”

He rubbed the back of his head, that heavy scar back there. “Oh, Hank… Trey don’t want me no more. He hates everything about my life.”

“So change. If you want it—them—bad enough, do what you have to. Those babies need you, even if Jeremy Fancy Pants No Fun doesn’t.”

He started chuckling. Jeremy Fancy Pants No Fun. That was going down in history.

“Promise me, kiddo. Swear you’ll try. Don’t—don’t end up dying with your regrets.”

“Hank—”

“Goddamn it! I’m dying. You give me this. I’m never going to get to see those babies again. Promise me you’ll try.”

“I swear to God. I’ll try.” West felt his face try to crumple, because he didn’t want to figure out how to be a man without the person who taught him how to cowboy up. He kept it together, though, because it was their way. “I promise, Hank.”

“Good boy.” Hank sighed, that light fading as he closed his eyes. “Know that I love you, West Belen. You are my son, just like as if I’d borned you.”

“I love you, Hank. I got your back.” Even though this was a trip West couldn’t make with Hank right now, he was here ’til the bitter end.

“I never doubted that for a second. Just hold my hand a minute and pray for me.”

So West did. All the way until Hank wasn’t holding on anymore.

 

Chapter Two

“You did what?”

Jeremy shook his head and tried not to glare at the nurse fussing with his IV. “Remember I told you I was going to paint the kitchen?”

“Jeremy Dunn the Third versus a cane-back cafe chair.” Drew laughed. “Loser.”

“It has a wobbly front leg.” He’d managed to go thirty-two years without breaking a single fucking bone. He wasn’t pouting. He was not.

Drew snorted, and he could picture the exasperated look on his best friend’s face. “Then why were you standing on it, idiot?”

“Fuck you.”

His nurse gave him the side-eye. “Watch your language, please.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged at her.

“Where are the kids?”

“Annie has them. She’s had them a couple of times before.” He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if his neighbor hadn’t been home.

“She’s keeping them overnight?”

“I—maybe? I’ll be home later today, but it’s my right arm…” Four years of high school sports, rock climbing, and all of his idiotic shenanigans in college, running and mountain biking all over Boulder…and he shattered his elbow falling off a stupid fucking chair.

“Your right arm? Jer, how are you going to—I mean, maybe…” Drew sighed, and Jeremy’s stomach sank as he realized what Drew was going to say before he said it.

“No.” Nope. No way.

Drew sighed. “You have to—”

“I’m not fucking calling him.”

“Jer—”

“What?” He shouted. “Did I hear someone yell ‘shark’? Sorry, what? You have to go? Okay, man. Enjoy your honeymoon, get a great tan.”

“Don’t be an ass, Jeremy.” Drew shouted back over his babbling.

“Talk to you later! Bye!”

He hung up.

Yep. He hung up on his best friend for not quite suggesting that he call his ex-husband for help with their kids.

Because he knew Drew was right.

Jesus, he’d gone off the deep end.

He looked at his phone. It was great of Annie to take them for the night, but she wasn’t going to keep the kids long. She had a life and four hundred boyfriends and a day job.

West was their father after all, and it wasn’t like Jeremy had asked him for anything since the divorce. Nothing. Ever. Maybe West could come take them for a few days until he figured out how to scratch his butt with his nearly useless left hand.

He pulled up West’s number and frowned at the picture, feeling sick that he still thought that smiling vortex of chaos in a cowboy hat was handsome.

“Fuck.” He hit the number and dialed.

“Trey.” No hello, no what’s wrong, just that nickname that he hated.

“Hey.” He could hang up. Say he butt dialed West by mistake. The idea of asking his ex for a favor was making the bile rise in the back of his throat. But he tried to imagine giving four-year-old Ava a bath left-handed while trying to keep from jostling his right arm and decided he was going to have to suck it up. Fuck. “So…listen, have you got plans the next couple of days?”

“Why? What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?” West’s voice was sharp, clear, and focused. God, he remembered being the center of that focus.

“Yes, they’re fine. I’m… I’m in the ER.” He let that hang out there a second since West hadn’t asked if he was okay.

“I’ll be there in four hours. I was doing a signing in Raton.” West’s voice got quiet. “I got to bounce. Family emergency. Yeah. See you.” Then West was back. “What’s wrong?”

A signing. Still in the limelight. Some things never changed.

“I broke my elbow.” I got into a fight with a rabid dog… I was barreling down this crazy trail on my bike… I went rock climbing and man, it was a close one. “I…fell off a fucking chair.” He rolled his eyes. Drew was right; he was an idiot.

“That hurts like a motherfucker.” West didn’t laugh, but Jeremy knew that bastard was grinning. “Who has my babies?”

Asshole. West had broken every bone in his goddamn body. Twice. “Our children are with Annie, next door. I’ll text you her number if you want it. They’ll be fine with her for a while.”

“Okay, good. Do you need a ride home, or should I just come to the house?”

“Let me know when you get up here, and we’ll see if I’m home yet.” Annie had a key, but no way was West going to wander around his house and pack up the kids unsupervised. His lawn might get mowed, but the kids would be covered in mud, and there’d be no beer left.

“Fine. I’ll see you in a few.” And just like that, the line went dead. Infuriating asshole. Seriously, if Jeremy hadn’t needed him…

“Ow!” He dropped his phone.

“Sorry. I need to get your sling fitted.” The nurse picked his phone up and handed it to him.

“Thanks. Sure.” He nodded and sat up so she could reach, the simple move making him a little dizzy. He tried to text Annie’s details to West, but texting with one hand, and left-handed at that, was a pain in the ass and it took him forever.

“Jeremiah M. Dunn, the Third.” A doctor came in, grinning broadly and reading his full fucking given name off an iPad. “That’s quite a name.”

“It was my father’s.” Ha-ha. So funny. “Jeremy works.”

“Jeremy. Got it. How are you getting home today?”

Fuck.

Title: Keeping Promises
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B08Y5GY7GF
ISBN13: 978-1951011437

 

Keeping Promises is available in AUDIO, narrated by the amazing John Solo!

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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?

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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

Gemini: Ryder

May 3, 2026 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: The Sin Deep Series #3
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: April 28, 2026

Widower Charles Martin has been very alone. His husband was lost to him long before Tad physically passed and Charles is at loose ends in their big, empty house. When a mutual friend suggests he hire a cowboy named Ryder as a personal assistant, he isn’t sure what to expect.

Ryder Vales lost his bull riding career to a serious head injury that left him a different man. He’s searching for something to do for work and for some peace in his life. He finds what he needs in taking care of Charles, serving and cooking for him, and in keeping him company.

Charles might be a good deal older than Ryder, but the two of them find comfort and then more together, building something that could seem odd to others, especially Ryder’s twin brother Roper, but that makes them both happy. Ryder isn’t sure if what he wants with Charles is what he deserves, though. Can Charles convince him that they’re the only two people who need to care what their relationship looks like?

Gemini: Ryder, the first book in a duet, is an opposites attract, D/s romance featuring a retired bull rider and a wealthy widower.

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Chapter 1

“These are gorgeous, aren’t they?” Charles tugged at the cuff of his husband’s black silk pajamas. “Dolce and Gabbana. I knew you’d love them. Black suits you so well.”

Although Tad hadn’t been out in the sun for years and his skin wasn’t tan anymore. In some places, it was actually translucent now. The deep black silk washed him out slightly, but it had always been Tad’s favorite color, and it looked striking against the white sheets of the hospital bed.

“I had lunch with Brady; he sends his regards. We had champagne—you’re jealous, right? I told him you would be.” Brady was a good friend and their attorney. “Next month will be five years, Tad.”

Five years was the limit. Five years and not a day more. The instructions in Tad’s medical directive were very clear, and he had followed them to the letter, even when he felt like he couldn’t anymore, or even shouldn’t.

Brady had met with him to remind him that it was time, as if he’d needed reminding. It had been a long, difficult conversation after their initial toast, and he’d been glad for the little buzz the bubbles had given him.

But he was ready. He’d been ready for a long time.

“Good morning, sir. Ooh. Are those new pajamas? Spiffy.”

He smiled at Jeremy, Tad’s daytime nurse. “Do you like them?”

“I do.” Jeremy felt the fabric and hummed appreciation. “Mm. They feel like heaven.”

“I thought so. I hope he does too.”

Jeremy hadn’t brought it up yet, but he felt like something was in the air. Their five-year contract was ending soon and that knowledge sat like the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room.

Fortunately, Tad’s room in their Lake George estate was very large.

“I—” Jeremy checked Tad’s vitals, all the silent machines that kept him alive. “Is there anything you need, sir?”

“You’re very kind, Jeremy. He hasn’t got much time left, as you know, and I just want him to be comfortable and spoiled. I suppose that’s ridiculous at this point.”

“Of course not, sir.” But Jeremy knew what he did. Tad was being kept alive by those machines now.

“Mm.” Charles shrugged and wandered to the window. He’d chosen this room for Tad’s hospital suite because of the huge windows and natural light, with its wide open view of the lake. It had been Tad’s favorite view in the house. Really, it had always been Tad’s room. It had been at one time Tad’s home office.

“If you need me, please let me know. Would you like some tea?”

He would, in fact, but he wouldn’t dream of asking Jeremy. Jeremy was here for Tad.

And pretty soon Jeremy wouldn’t be here at all.

This house was going to be very big and lonely a month from now. Very big, and very lonely.

“Thank you, but I’ll manage that for myself. You have work to do.” Maybe he should hire someone as Brady had suggested, just so he wasn’t knocking around this house alone. “I’ll be heading back to the city shortly anyway.”

“Yes, sir.” He could tell that Jeremy didn’t know what to say, so he simply left.

“I’ll see you next weekend, darling.” He kissed Tad’s forehead and squeezed his hand, the ritual so familiar he hardly gave it a thought anymore.

He went straight to his office, skipping the tea, and picked up the business card Brady had given him at lunch. Was this what he wanted? Did he really want a stranger in his house, in his apartment in the city? Did he need a—what had Brady called it? A companion?

That word made him feel old. But then his husband dying so young at over a decade his junior made him feel old too. The thought of getting back out again as Brady had suggested—attending social events or worse, entertaining guests himself as he and Tad used to, shouldn’t be so intimidating. It shouldn’t make him so anxious, and yet it created such a feeling of dread, a heaviness in his chest that made it a little difficult to breathe.

Still, he probably should have someone to help him deal with the details—not for Tad, he would handle all of that himself with Brady’s help—but for everything else.

Whatever “everything else” was.

A personal assistant. That was acceptable.

That was a call he could make.

 

Title: Gemini: Ryder
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0FPDNFVFH
ISBN13: 978-1963644203

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

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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