Bad Influence (39 page)

Jamie’s hand latched around Gavin’s wrists and pulled him off. “So, we going to hold hands next or should we move this along before someone turns into a pumpkin.”

Gavin forced a matching mocking smile to his face. “Just making sure your engine was ignited.”

“I’ve got a full tank.”

Gavin peered around the cinderblocks to check for traffic before palming Jamie’s crotch. He’d expected thick and solid, but… He ran his hand up the length before whispering in Jamie’s ear, “Kind of nice to find you not fully proportional.”

Jamie grabbed Gavin’s hips and slammed them together. “You’re about to have some other expectations exceeded.”

Gavin turned and reached for the storage closet door again.

Jamie leaned a hand on it, crowding against Gavin’s ass. “Isn’t risking an audience part of the fun, part of what gets you off?” Jamie’s free hand slid around Gavin’s cummerbund and down onto his fly. “Does it make the whole boring pile of crap easier to put up with?”

Jamie unzipped Gavin’s fly, pulled his aching dick free. A shudder ran through him as Jamie’s fingers wrapped tight and gave the barest touch of friction under the head. “Your cock’s out for anyone to see.”

Those hands weren’t small at all as they stroked, milking precome to the tip until it tingled and burned at the slit. A rough thumb spread it, dipped for more. With a quick jerk on Gavin’s arm, Jamie spun Gavin to pin his back flat against the door.

Jamie brought his thumb up between them. “Yeah, that gets you pumping, all right.” He smeared Gavin’s lips, shoving the thick, calloused digit into Gavin’s mouth.

Gavin wanted to force the bitter salt intrusion out with his tongue, give one of his laughs and get Jamie smiling with a
Thanks to some interesting accidents and curiosity I already know how I taste, I wanted to know about you,
but the look in Jamie’s eyes made Gavin hollow his cheeks and suck instead. He swirled his tongue over Jamie’s skin as he thrust his thumb back over Gavin’s lips and in again.

“This risky enough that you don’t need the high too? Knowing that any of your daddy’s rich friends could come by, see you getting your dick sucked. Does it make you feel important? Or is it a bad-boy thing?”

Jamie released him, brought the thumb to his own mouth and licked.

“I can see it makes you feel pretty damned good.” Gavin nodded at the tent in Jamie’s trousers.

“I always do.” Jamie stepped in and kissed him, held Gavin’s head for a long possessive lick inside his mouth, as if he wanted to chase that bit of come, draw it back.

Gavin had a lot more of it waiting. God, he’d had enough of waiting. He slammed his hips forward, because any friction on the spike of need between his legs was worth it, even what he could get from the brushed virgin wool covering Jamie’s cock.

Jamie held on to Gavin’s face and swiveled out of reach of his mouth and hips. “I could have you here, fancy pants around your ankles and my cock up your ass, the mayor and my boss right on the other side of that wall.” Jamie tipped his head back. “But I don’t need that to feel like somebody.”

Gavin stopped straining to get closer. The throb of denied want in his balls suggested this wasn’t going to end in smiles and departing nods of appreciation for a little relief from a dull evening. “I never said you did.”

Jamie had this wrong. It wasn’t about risk or acting out some bad-boy role. Gavin simply wanted to get off.

They’re going to need a bigger tent.

After the Rain

© 2014 Daisy Harris

Fire and Rain, Book 2

Henri’s list of bad exes is as long as his arm, but nothing prepared him for his latest, heart-stomping breakup. He thought he couldn’t feel more abandoned, until his ride for a group camping trip bails, leaving him stuck driving for hours with a guy who is absolutely not his type.

After breaking up with his girlfriend of five years, firefighter Logan is working up the nerve to explore his interest in men. He knows he’s gay. He just hasn’t had the guts to do anything about it…until now.

Henri’s big-city attitude and tight jeans push every last one of Logan’s buttons, and when he and Henri have to share a tent, Logan is thrilled. He should have realized Pacific Northwest weather would get wet—forcing them to strip naked.

Though the steam between them is thicker than coastal fog, Henri’s not sure he can let himself fall for another man. Not even the guy who finally treats him right.

Warning: Contains bad ex-boyfriends, even worse weather, and more than your average amount of sex in a tent. May not be suitable for those with germ phobias, outdoor aversions or fear of damp shoes.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
After the Rain:

“Here.” Henri came over with a couple marshmallows pinched between graham crackers. He handed one to Logan, smirking. Moonlight teased at Henri’s cheekbones, darkening Henri’s eyes.

It was all Logan could do not to kiss him, but instead Logan shoved the s’more in his mouth.

“You going to eat that whole thing?” Henri said it with a hitch to his eyebrow that was pure suggestion.

Logan laughed around his bite, spraying a fine mist of graham cracker crumbs. Oh God, Henri must have thought he was the world’s biggest dope. But Henri’s smile was kind as he reached up and wiped a bit of chocolate off the edge of Logan’s lips.

Damn, Logan wanted to take that finger and suck it into his mouth. No. No way. Henri had said
maybe
. He’d held Logan’s hand. Finger sucking was definitely off the menu.

With a coy grin, Henri bit his s’more in half. His shapely lips were all coated in melted marshmallow and chocolate, and Logan wanted to lick it off so badly he could wait a month if he had to.

Somewhere nearby, guys began drumming. Logan couldn’t see them, but from the general shift in the air, he could tell that the crowd had gotten excited.

“Oh God.” Henri leaned into him, resting his forehead on Logan’s shoulder. “I really hate drum circles.”

Logan froze, suspended in a place between not believing his luck and being terrified to fuck things up. Henri’s hair smelled so good, and his body was lithe and small but also strong and sinewy. Logan wanted to clutch Henri, grab him, haul him closer. With Soleil, it had never been like this. He’d never felt so turned on it was almost scary.

“The drummin’ part or the circle part?” Logan forced his voice not to crack. Slowly, he lifted his hand to hover over Henri’s back. He waited long seconds, wondering if Henri would pull away. When Henri let out a sigh and relaxed against Logan’s chest, he brought his palm to rest between Henri’s shoulders.

“Both.”

Giving in, Logan dropped his head to rub his cheek against Henri’s hair. Oh hell, he could do this—only this—all night. Standing there under the stars just holding Henri…Logan didn’t know why he’d worried about blowjobs and fucking and the rest of it.

“Attention!” On the other side of the campfire, Buck stood on a picnic table. He held his hands up, palms out, in the universal sign for quiet down.

The drumming slowed to a low-pitched beat, and the guys lowered their voices.

“It’s time for a polar bear dip!” Buck ripped his shirt over his head and beat his fists against his chest.

Okay, this Logan had not been expecting. He looked to Henri for direction, but Henri’s mouth hung open in horror.

“Oh, hell no.” Henri wound his arms around his torso as if someone might run over and try to tear his clothes off.

All around them, men stripped. Buck waved, pointing at the ridge and the river beyond. Logan hoped all the guys stuck to the section where the water pooled in a lagoon and didn’t venture into the river itself. In the dark, it could be dangerous.

“Come on, gentlemen!” After a few shouts from the lesbians in attendance, Buck added, “And ladies.”

“You sure you don’t want to go?” Logan imagined he knew the answer, but he still had to ask. Maybe it was like river rafting and Henri needed to be cajoled into joining the fun.

“Not if the river were peppermint mocha.” Henri cuddled into Logan’s side, but whether it was for warmth or because he was as reluctant to let go as Logan was, Logan couldn’t tell. “I’m pretty beat.” When Henri tilted his head, their eyes met. “And I bet Michael has all kinds of activities to torture us with tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Logan’s belly lurched at the idea of lying together in a tent in the dark, but at the same time, his heart kicked up to pounding. “I’m tired too.”

One by one, they got their sleep clothes out of their bags, and together they headed to the bathrooms. Logan caught Henri’s eye in the bathroom mirror as they stood brushing their teeth. Maybe it was because there was a toothbrush in Henri’s mouth and his lips were dripping with toothpaste, but it looked like he was smiling for real, not even a smirk this time. His dark eyes crinkled around the edges and sparkled in the yellow halogen lights.

Every muscle on Logan’s body tensed and quivered, like he could run five miles at a sprint. Much as Logan wanted to keep things PG in the tent, he hoped they rubbed off together at the end. Didn’t matter if it was an unspoken thing like the night before or a more
together
experience with them whispering encouragement to each other, because otherwise there would be no way in hell Logan would be able to sleep.

He tried not to look when Henri hurried out of his clothes and into his flannel pajamas, but he couldn’t miss Henri’s long back and the thick hair on his thighs. Logan turned around to change before Henri could catch him watching.

“You want to try to stream something tonight?” Henri came over, both his body language and his gaze more guarded than they’d been before. Maybe Logan had read this whole thing wrong. “If everyone else heads back to the campfire after they swim, we might get the chance.” He dragged on a sweater, rubbing his arms. “Or maybe they’ll all have hypothermia and fall asleep.”

“Sure.” Logan hid his disappointment. “Sounds fun.”

A few minutes later they climbed into the tent. Maybe it was Logan’s imagination, but now that they were in the dark again, Henri seemed to brush against him an awful lot as he adjusted his sleeping bag in the tent.

The drums and men’s chatter in the distance sounded tribal, primitive. They spurred Logan on. He should be doing something, he knew this. His palms itched to grab, and his blood pumped like lightning through his veins. If only he could figure out what in the fuck he was supposed to do.

“You really want me to keep this here?” Henri dug in the suitcase that separated their sleep pads. Shadows hid his expression.

“No.” Logan cleared his throat, his voice hoarse with an equal mixture of fear and lust.

Henri must have felt it too, that energy buzzing between them. Logan couldn’t be imagining the way Henri’s pale billows of breath were slow and rhythmic, or the way Henri kept leaning toward him before pulling away.

“Okay. Then I’ll put it down by my feet.” He picked up the bag and twisted, getting on his hands and knees directly in front of Logan. It was all too easy for Logan to imagine lying across his back to kiss his neck.

As if he heard Logan’s thoughts, Henri stilled. There was a long, limitless minute while Logan wondered if Henri was waiting for him to do something, maybe crawl over him and do exactly what he was thinking about. Or maybe Henri was gearing up to tell Logan he needed to find somewhere else to sleep.

Henri backed up a few inches, so his heels almost touched Logan’s knees. Logan didn’t move. Mind gone blank, he held his ground while Henri slowly lifted up to kneeling. Henri’s back was to Logan’s front, only a foot away.

“Logan?” Henri’s voice was more tentative than anything Logan had heard him say so far.

“Yeah?” He would have done anything Henri said right then—slept on the ground, sucked him off, made love to him. Logan would have spread and let Henri fuck him, if that’s what Henri wanted.

“If you want…” Henri’s words were little more than a breath but still loud in the silence of their tent.

“Yeah?” Logan rasped, unable to think about anything but the tension in Henri’s shoulders and the way Henri smelled.

“Just don’t kiss me, okay? Not on the lips.”

Love doesn’t come with a syllabus.

Love Lessons

© 2013 Heidi Cullinan

Kelly Davidson has waited what seems like forever to graduate high school and get out of his small-minded, small town. But when he arrives at Hope University, he quickly realizes finding his Prince Charming isn’t so easy. Everyone here is already out. In fact, Kelly could be the only virgin on campus.

Worst of all, he’s landed the charming, handsome, gay campus Casanova as a roommate, whose bed might as well be equipped with a revolving door.

Walter Lucas doesn’t believe in storybook love. Everyone is better off having as much fun as possible with as many people as possible…except his shy, sad little sack of a roommate is seriously screwing up his world view.

As Walter sets out to lure Kelly out of his shell, staying just friends is harder than he anticipated. He discovers love is a crash course in determination. To make the grade, he’ll have to finally show up for class…and overcome his own private fear that love was never meant to last.