The Rebuilding Year (35 page)

Ryan leaned back against John’s broad chest. John’s body pressed against his, only moving a fraction with his slow, steady breaths. Ryan could lean, and not fall. “Someone really special,” he told his father. “Dad, I’ve met this man…”

About the Author

Kaje Harper grew up in Montreal and spent her teen years writing, filling binders with stories about what guys like Starsky and Hutch really did on their days off. Serious authorship got sidetracked by ventures into psychology, teaching, and a biomedical career. And the challenges of raising children.

When Kaje took up writing again it was just for fun. Hours of fun. Lots of hours of fun. The stories began piling up, and her husband suggested it was time to try to publish one. Kaje currently lives in Minnesota with a creative teenager, a crazy little omnivorous white dog, and a remarkably patient spouse.

You can find Kaje Harper on the web at
kajeharper.wordpress.com
or contact her at
[email protected]

Stockbroker meets stock breaker. But who’s taming whom?

Cowboys Down

© 2012 Barbara Elsborg

London stockbroker Jasper Randolph flies to Jackson Hole with hopes as high as the Grand Tetons. Hope that the getaway will force him to let loose, get dirty, and overcome a deep-seated phobia about horseback riding.

He hadn’t counted on an attraction to the dude ranch owner’s son, a man with sun-tousled hair, eyes bluer than Wyoming skies…and a father who’d rather eat tofu than accept his only son’s sexuality.

The moment Calum lays eyes on the uptight, buttoned-down Brit, he’s lost. But with his own saddlebags full of emotional baggage, he knows he should be looking at anything but Jasper’s spotless riding boots and tight-fitting jodhpurs. Trouble is, Jasper makes his heart buck like a wild horse trying to break free.

Despite the differences that set them oceans apart, they fall hard and fast. Trouble isn’t far behind, and they’re in for a rocky romantic ride. Especially since there’s growing evidence that someone is willing to do anything—no matter how dangerous—to poison their love.

Warning: Mix one sun-bronzed cowboy with a yummy Brit who’d give Darcy in his wet shirt a run for his money. Mix gently. Try not to drool.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Cowboys Down:

“You have to be in control of everything?” Calum asked in a quiet voice.

“Not everything.” Jasper’s cock uncurled like a sprouting plant.

“Because I’m a sort of controlling guy too.”

Shit, shit, shit.

Calum brushed a smear of dust from the knee of Jasper’s pants. The slightest touch and Jasper’s breathing hitched. Every muscle tensed.

“You resisted wiping that off,” Calum said with a mouth-watering grin.

Maybe I was hoping you’d do it for me.
Jasper averted his gaze and stared at a tree. Of course the words stayed in his head. Ultra-decisive in his professional life, he was a different person in his private. The chances of Jasper making a move were zero.

Calum lifted Jasper’s sunglasses off his face and set them aside.
Oh fuck.
Now Jasper had to look at him.

“The getting dirty thing could be because you grew up too fast.” Calum stared straight at him. “No time to be a kid. Probably had something to do with what happened to your brother. You stayed under the radar by being a good boy.”

Clever guy.
Except how could Jasper begrudge the time his parents had spent with Ben and not with him? Jasper had to behave, stay in his room, keep out of trouble, not make a nuisance of himself. How could he have fun and laugh when his brother was able to do little more than blink? How could he be happy when everyone in the house was steeped in misery, when every conversation was about Ben and never about him?

“The control thing,” Calum said, “I understand that. When I’m breaking in a horse, I can’t let my concentration slip for a second. I have to show the animal I’m in charge, and that I understand what he needs. But work is work and pleasure’s pleasure.”

Calum’s hand lay flat on the rock between them. Jasper’s hand mirrored it, their fingers inches apart. A small gap the size of the Grand Canyon. Jasper imagined his hand sliding over to touch Calum’s fingers.

So easy.

So damn difficult.

Jasper’s heart thumped so hard it hurt.

“You know the first thing I noticed about you?” Calum asked and swung round so he was sitting the same way as Jasper.

“You thought I had pink luggage?”

He laughed. “No, the purple.”

Jasper couldn’t dislodge the lump in his throat.

“Your huge brown eyes,” Calum whispered.

Oh God.
Jasper’s cock made a determined attempt to get through his zipper and his grip tightened around the water bottle held at his groin as if he could push the thing back down.

“I have a thing for sparkling blue eyes,” Jasper blurted. Like a pool he wanted to dive into and then never climb out.

“Is that right?”

“And tanned skin that looks as though it’s always warm.”
Shit.
Where did that come from?

“Not in the winter. I get so cold I feel like my skin’s freezing.” Calum’s voice was hoarse. “I like soft hands.”

Oh God, he’s flirting with me. And I’m flirting back.

“For me, there’s something about a rough touch,” Jasper choked out.

Calum barked out a laugh.

Jasper sighed. “I wasn’t sure about you.”

“Nor me about you.”

But I am now.

Jasper swallowed to bring moisture to his mouth. “Which makes you just about perfect.”

“Hell, I’m a long way from perfect.”

Not me for, you’re not.

“So,” Calum said. “We going to ignore this?”

Jasper tightened his mouth. Calum wanted to slam the lid back on the box already?

“Or do something about it?” Calum asked. “Only I’ve just ridden seven miles with a cock so stiff it hurts.” He gave a wry grin.

“Me too.”

“I know we
should
ignore it,” Calum said. “The wranglers aren’t allowed to fuck the guests. It causes complications and that rule applies to me too even though I’m the boss’s son. Especially to me since I’m supposed to be setting an example. My father will just about kill me if he finds out, but you’re distracting me beyond reason. I came so hard after I left you last night, I thought my heart would stop.”

The effect on Jasper’s cock was as effective as if Calum had stroked it. Jasper glanced down to check it hadn’t burst his zipper and wasn’t out scenting the air.

“I sort of understand how Eve felt when she was tempted with that apple.” Calum grinned. “So bad, so good.”

How many before me? Does it matter?

Jasper stared at their hands, fingers inching closer and closer until the tips touched. The jolt that went through him could have been a lightning strike for the impact it had. Jasper burned head to toe. His throat dried so fast he couldn’t speak. His cock strained against his zipper and made the water bottle jump. Then their fingers linked, and their hands clasped and tightened.

“Oh fuck,” Calum whispered.

It was as if they’d been welded together, and while their entwined hands didn’t shift, to Jasper’s astonishment, his other hand let go of the bottle and rose to slide up Calum’s forearm. It was Jasper’s hand that crept to the damp hair at the nape of Calum’s neck, Jasper’s hand that tugged Calum nearer. Their faces were so close they breathed each other’s air. Calum brought his free hand to the back of Jasper’s neck, and when Jasper slid his fingers into Calum’s hair to press into his scalp, Calum did the same to him.

Their other hands unlinked as if by mutual consent, and as Calum lifted his fingers to Jasper’s face and stroked his chin with his thumb, Jasper’s palm settled over Calum’s chest. Then their lips were together and Jasper wasn’t sure who’d moved first, nor did he care. Their kiss was wet and open, tongues tangling as the sound of their ragged groans filled the air. Calum’s tongue teased his while his fingers twisted harder in Jasper’s hair, urging him closer.

The first deep thrust of Calum’s tongue surprised him.

Calum pulled away, muttered, “Oh God, you taste good,” and then he kissed him again.

Jasper curled his tongue under Calum’s, exploring his mouth, but a gentle kiss grew rougher by the second. Deeper and harder lunges as they dueled, each fighting for control and then they were on their feet, bodies plastered together, hands on backs, on butts, on necks as they staggered around and writhed and humped and fucked each other’s mouths until they couldn’t breathe.

They came up for air like kids in a swimming pool competing over who could stay under longest. They gasped and laughed, wanting to do it all over again. Jasper’s senses were consumed by need. Damp mouth, hot tongue, strong hands—if his cock could have moaned, it would have.

Calum’s breathing rasped in his ear. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

Jasper panted into Calum’s neck. “Oh fuck, fuck.”

Then they went at it again, kissing, groping, grinding their hips together until it almost hurt. Calum’s fingers tugged at Jasper’s shirt until it came out of his pants. A warm hand slid onto his lower back and tingles raced up Jasper’s spine. Roughened fingertips wormed their way into the back of his chinos, and pressure spiraled from Jasper’s balls to set fire to his belly. Calum groaned into Jasper’s mouth as he squeezed one of his butt cheeks, his thumb sliding into the crease. He rocked his cock against Jasper’s and they bucked and rutted as if there were no clothes between them.

Vaguely, somewhere in Jasper’s head, buried under a mountain of greedy lust, he knew they ought to slow down, take their time, at least make sure no one but the horses watched, but it was as though he’d stepped onto a speeding train with no way off until the destination was reached. And if Jasper was going to come in his pants, he was determined not to be the only one.

The truth is out there. Way, way, way out there!

Mummy Dearest

© 2011 Josh Lanyon

The XOXO Files, Book 1

Drew Lawson is racing against the clock. He’s got a twenty-four-hour window to authenticate the mummy of Princess Merneith. If he’s not at his boyfriend’s garden party when that window closes, it’ll be the final nail in their relationship coffin.

The last thing he needs traipsing on the final shred of his patience is brash, handsome reality show host Fraser Fortune, who’s scheduled to film a documentary about the mummy’s Halloween curse.

The opportunity to film a bona-fide professor examining the mummy is exactly the aura of authenticity Fraser needs. Except the grumpy PhD is a pompous ass on leave from his ivory tower. Yet something about Drew has Fraser using a word he doesn’t normally have to draw upon: please.

With no time to waste—and a spark of attraction he can’t deny—Drew reluctantly agrees to let Fraser follow his every move as he unwraps the mummy’s secrets. Soon they’re both making moves behind the scenes that even the dead can’t ignore…

Warning: Whoso shall ever open this tomb, er, book shall suffer the curse of the Pharaohs. Okay, maybe not. But set aside a chunk of time for marauding mummies, too many cosmopolitans, illicit sex in hotel rooms, and other non-academic shenanigans.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Mummy Dearest:

When the movie was over we walked back to the hotel along quiet and by then mostly deserted streets. The scent of wood smoke drifted in the sparkling night air. Every so often someone in costume appeared in the distant peripheral of our vision, as though at the far end of a telescope. Kids. Teenagers. Milking the last few minutes of the spookiest night of the year.

“What time is it?” I asked as we walked past a house where a jack-o’-lantern sat on the porch steps, eyes glowing eerily, yellow mouth laughing silently.

Fraser checked his wristwatch. “A quarter to midnight.”

“The witching hour.”

“Yep.”

After that we seemed to be out of things to talk about. I was coming down from the booze, and I felt tired and depressed when I remembered the fight with Noah. Which was every couple of minutes.

Fraser seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts.

It took a while for the dull, shuffling noise behind us to register. In fact, I don’t know that I would have registered it if Fraser hadn’t stopped walking.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?” I stopped too.

“That.”

I listened. I could hear the power lines buzzing softly overhead, leaves scratching along the sidewalk…

“I don’t hear anything.”

“It’s stopped.”

I expelled a long breath. “Not funny.”