Coming Home Page 22

  “Uh huh.” Glancing to the side and meeting Brett’s dark eyes, Cade felt his heart clench. “I’m glad you came.”

  Brett grinned. “Me too,” he said, stroking a hand over Cade’s hip. Raising an eyebrow, he added, “Though I gotta say, I didn’t think it’d be so easy to get you into bed.”

  Cade punched him in the arm and earned a rich chuckle that warmed his soul. “So what happens now?” he asked when Brett’s laughter eased.

  “Now?” Brett sat up in the bed and leaned back against the headboard. His eyes turned somber as he stared at Cade. “Come home with me.”

  The quiet request made Cade’s throat burn. He cleared his throat and asked, “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” Brett gave a small smile and nodded. “Never been more sure of anything.”

  Thick emotion welled within Cade as he drank in the tenderness in Brett’s eyes. After the months of grief and loss, something good had come out of it all. He was going home to the one man he needed in this world. It didn’t get any better than that.

  About the Author

  To learn more about Ava Rose Johnson, please visit www.avarosejohnson.com. Send an email to Ava at ava@avarosejohnson.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Ava. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/avarosejohnsongroup

  How far would you dare to go…to win it all?

  Str8te Boys

  © 2009 Evangeline Anderson

  Maverick Holms and Duke Warren share almost everything—a college soccer team, an apartment and the same extremely competitive nature. Thanks to that never-back-down spirit, they’re about to share more than they bargained for.

  The game is “gay chicken”. The rule: get as close as possible without kissing, and the one that pulls away first is the loser. The problem: neither of them likes to lose. It isn’t long before the game becomes an excuse to touch and kiss in every possible forbidden way. And after they pose for a gay website to earn extra money, things really heat up.

  Suddenly Duke is talking lifetime commitment, and Mav is backpedaling as hard as he can, not sure if he’s ready to accept all his best friend is offering him. Or the truth about what he is.

  Warning: Hot M/M sex inside. Do not open this book if you don’t like the idea of two deliciously muscular best friends becoming lovers.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Str8te Boys:

  Mav frowned at his roommate. Any other guy would have backed off at the dangerous look in his eyes but he knew Duke didn’t back down for anyone. Neither did Mav as a general rule, even though he wished he could. But he couldn’t, because for some reason he was still hard—harder than ever in fact—and if he jumped off the couch now, his state of arousal would show. There was nothing to do but sit there and play the stupid game until his annoying best friend gave it up and moved on to other things.

  “Gay chicken,” Duke whispered, leaning in. The idea was for two guys to get as close to kissing as they could. The one to pull away first was the loser. Duke always won because he was a fierce competitor where any sport was concerned—be it soccer, baseball, basketball, football, table tennis…or gay chicken.

  “Come on, Duke, stop it,” Mav murmured as his roommate got closer and closer. He could see the little gold and green flecks in Duke’s chocolate brown eyes, could smell the faintly spicy aftershave he wore and under it, the warm scent of his skin.

  “Can’t stop unless you give,” Duke murmured, moving in. “Gotta play to win, Mav. And you know I always win.”

  Mav sighed, still looking deeply into his best friend’s eyes. For some reason it reminded him of the picture he’d seen on the website of the two guys looking at each other. “Yeah, you always have to win, fag,” he muttered, not sure if he was angry or…something else. By now his cock had gone from half-hard to full-alert status and he didn’t dare move. Or maybe he didn’t want to? It was all very confusing. He’d never let Duke’s mouth get this close to his own before. Always in the past he’d pulled away, turned his head, admitting that the game was getting to be too much for him, too intense. But this time he felt frozen in time and space, helpless to do anything but watch his best friend’s infuriatingly handsome face get closer.

  Duke’s warm pink lips brushed his gently at first and then more firmly. He held the kiss for a long, breathless moment before pulling back a fraction of an inch. “Who’s a fag now?” His deep voice was low and intimate. “Do you give, roomie?”

  Mav felt like someone had stuck a lighting rod down the front of his pants and sent a bolt of electricity straight through his cock. What the hell was wrong with him? Duke’s posturing and games had never affected him this way before. Well, not until recently, anyway. He thought again about jumping off the couch and running up to his room. But that would look weird and besides, his hard-on would be way too obvious, even if he moved fast. He was stuck, pinned to the couch.

  “What are you gonna do if I don’t give?” he asked, hating the rough, breathless tone in his own voice.

  “Maybe nothing. Maybe this.” Duke leaned forward again. This time when their mouths met Mav felt something warm and wet brush against the seam of his lips. His tongue, he realized, a shiver running through him. Damn, he’s actually licking me!

  He opened his mouth to protest and suddenly Duke’s tongue was right there, probing delicately between his lips, forcing him to react.

  Without knowing why he was doing it, Mav reached up and took a handful of his best friend’s spiky blond hair. Pulling Duke closer, he pressed his own tongue deep into the warm, luscious mouth covering his own. Duke tasted like cinnamon and beer and heat. He tasted delicious.

  Then Duke was pulling away abruptly, pretending to spit and wipe his mouth. “Dude, you kissed me! You were actually frenching me or some shit!”

  Mav frowned. “That’s what you get, asshole. Do you give?” he asked, trying to cover his own confusion. What just happened? Did I kiss him? What the hell?

  Duke scowled. “Damn it, Mav. I never lose at gay chicken.”

  “Maybe because I always let you win.” Mav held his best friend’s gaze with his own, refusing to look away.

  “I think you better give, Duke. Unless you want to be getting a whole lot gayer than you ever have before.” Ethan’s dry voice pulled Mav back to the present. The other man was still sitting in the wicker chair, watching them. But for a moment Mav had completely forgotten there was anyone else in the room but him and his best friend.

  “Huh?” Duke looked slightly confused, as if the kiss had caught him unawares too. Which it shouldn’t have since he’d initiated it, Mav thought half angrily.

  “I said, I don’t think your boy Maverick is going to back down this time.” Ethan grinned. “So unless you want to bend over and let him fuck you to prove how extremely ungay you are, I think we have a new reigning champ of gay chicken. And on that note…” He stood and stuffed the iPhone in his pocket. “I think I better get going. Ev wants me to go to brunch with him and his mom. I’m not looking forward to it.” He made a face.

  “Uh, sure. Okay.” Duke still sounded dazed but at least he’d stood up from the couch, putting some distance between himself and Mav. “See ya, Eeth. Thanks for comin’ by.”

  “Talk to you later, straight boy.” Ethan gave them one last searching look before letting himself out of the apartment’s front door.

  “Uh, well, I gotta go. Gotta…get something in my room.” Duke nodded vaguely in the direction of his bedroom.

  “Sure. See ya.” Mav nodded, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that his annoying best friend was finally getting out of his personal space. But as Duke turned to go, something caught Mav’s eye. There was a definite bulge in the crotch of his roommate’s jeans.

  Duke was hard too.

  Love can be found among the pieces of a broken heart.

  Seeing You

  © 2009 Dakota Flint

  The night his brother, Simon, was killed in an accident, Dylan took on a double load of gu
ilt. Guilt for walking away unscathed…and for secretly loving Simon’s partner, Wade. Unable to bear the pain, Dylan left the Lazy G ranch to rebuild his life elsewhere.

  A year later he reluctantly responds to his sister’s plea to come home, where he finds the Lazy G falling apart. And so is Wade. Wade has stopped caring about the ranch, about everything that should matter most to him.

  Though there’s more ranch work than one man can possibly handle, Dylan throws himself into the task. Wondering how he’s going to find the strength to pull Wade out of the fog of grief when his own is still as raw as a fresh wound. Wondering when Wade will finally see that his second chance for happiness is standing right in front of him.

  Warning: Contains explicit, emotionally charged m/m sex. Extra box of tissues required. You could use your sleeve, of course, but we don’t recommend it.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Seeing You:

  I found the third sketch the next morning, rolled up, on my unmade bed after I came back from a morning dip in the pond. Probably the last of the season, ’cause the water had been cold. I stood there dripping on the wooden floor, shivering, and I contemplated it. I had a feeling…

  Yeah, this one was of me. It wasn’t a very graceful pose. I was half bent over, hauling up a wooden slat, my hands covered in work gloves and my hat shading my face from view. I sat down on the bed and looked at that drawing, and I finally got a clue.

  “I want you to see me, see that I’m sorry I left and I’m back to stay. I’ll help you hold onto this place, I swear…”

  I studied the sketch another minute, and then I set it on the dresser until I could frame it and hang it up next to the other two on my wall.

  I didn’t hunt down Wade to say thank you this time. I realized he was telling me something, but I still didn’t know how much he was saying.

  I spent a week avoiding Wade. I was unsure of what he wanted, where he was going with this, so I did what I do best. I ran.

  Every time I saw him coming, I went the other way, or tried to look busy, and if that didn’t work, I hid. Not behavior to be proud of, really, but sometimes not knowing and hoping was better than finding out and being disappointed.

  What a coward I was. I wondered if I’d find the yellow brick road somewhere on the ranch.

  I didn’t know if I was coming or going, and I was learning that running was still tiring even if it was partly figurative.

  After an evening spent watching TV with Mack and Dwayne, ignoring Mack’s mutterings—even when he called me Debbie D. for my “long face”—I said good night, my mind on what Wade was doing up at the house as I made my way to my bedroom.

  Was he getting ready for bed? Or already in it? Was he running a hand down the smooth skin of his stomach, into the hair at his groin? Was he stroking the length of his prick, enjoying the feel of it slowly filling until he was hard and throbbing? Was he picturing someone as he pumped himself, the intense feelings curling through his body? Did he cry someone’s name as his back arched and he shot his pleasure into his hand?

  Realizing I was leaning against my bedroom door and rubbing myself through my jeans, I huffed a laugh and started stripping. I was naked and about to climb into bed when I noticed the drawing left next to my pillow. I wondered when he had managed to leave this one since it hadn’t been here when I came back earlier, and I had been in the bunkhouse since dinner.

  I picked it up, unfurled it, ignoring the clenching of my stomach muscles, and gaped. The sketch was of me coming out of the pond, running a hand through my hair as I tilted my face up to the sun. I was decently covered in cut-offs, and there was nothing indecent about what I was wearing or doing. But I wouldn’t show this to Mack or Erin, and definitely not to any kids.

  I looked…sexual. The lines of my body, the look on my face, I don’t know, but something about the way Wade had sketched me was unmistakably erotic.

  Was this how Wade saw me? Was he answering my questions? Asking his own? Was he waiting for me to make my own move? I felt more confused than ever, and abruptly I was sick of the game. Tomorrow I was going to ask Wade what he wanted from me.

  It was no surprise that I dreamed about his hands on me.

  The next morning I stumbled out of bed late after a night spent dreaming. I blinked sleep from my eyes and when my right foot slipped on something, I looked down blankly for a moment. I rubbed my eyes, not thinking it could be what I thought it was, but it was still there when I opened them again, so I leaned down and picked it up.

  There was nothing subtle about this sketch. I was lying on a bed, back arched, head thrown back, eyes shut, as I pumped my cock. I looked at this drawing of me and I blushed. This wasn’t memory, it was imagination.

  I stood there, my morning wood becoming actual interest as I thought of Wade spending time fantasizing about me, thinking of me spread out on his bed putting on a show just for him. I dragged on my clothes from yesterday and was on my way out the door within a few minutes. At the last second, I turned around, rummaged through the drawer in my bedside table and stuck the lube and a condom in my back pocket.

  Then I went to find Wade.

  I found Wade mucking stalls, not surprised that most of the meaningful conversations in my life have taken place around horse shit.

  “Where is everybody, Wade?” He obviously hadn’t heard me come in because he jumped before turning to look at me.

  “Mack and Dwayne ran to town. Billy, Joe and Tom are out working cattle.” Wade put down the pitchfork he’d been using and stepped out of the stall toward me.

  “Good. Got something this morning.” No sense beating around the bush.

  “That right?” Wade’s smile spread slowly across his face. He looked like he had a naughty secret.

  “Oh, yeah. Think maybe you’d like it.” I walked up close to Wade until our chests brushed.

  “Think so?” Wade slid his right hand up my arm to my neck in one smooth caress that made me shiver.

  “Oh, yeah. I should pass it on.” Then we were kissing, tongues thrusting and hands flying as we both tried to touch as much of the other’s body as possible. It was desperate and needy and a little awkward at first as we learned the way our mouths fit together.

  I heard myself moan as I finally learned the taste of Wade. He tasted like coffee, a little bitter, and something else. Something that I would bet was just all Wade, rich and dark and so very good.

  Good in the way that climbing Mount Everest is good, or winning the Nobel Peace Prize good. There were no words for the feeling as he stroked my tongue with his and moved his hands down to cup my ass, bringing my hips up to rub our cocks together through denim. “So good.”

  “Yeah,” he took the time to mutter as he sucked on my neck, and we attacked buttons and belt buckles.

  “This isn’t going to last.” I thought I should warn him of that, and then he got his hand around my cock. Yeah, no way was this going to last longer than a few more strokes.

  “Last long enough to be in me?” Probably not, but for that I’d damn sure try.

  “Maybe. God, that feels so good.” He continued to pump my dick. “But not going to last long enough to fuck you if you keep doing that.” I wrapped my hand around his cock, loving the heft in my hand as it pulsed with life.

  “Shit, we don’t have anything.” Wade groaned and kissed me again. “We should go up to the house.”

  “Hell, no. We got everything we need.” I dug the condom and lube out of my pocket. “Turn around, hands against the wall.” I wondered what he’d think of that command.

  He didn’t say anything, just turned around, put his hands on the wall until he was almost bent over, and looked over his shoulder at me and grinned. “You gonna show me how I like it now?”

  “Sure am. Hope you want it rough and fast because anything else will have to wait ’til later.” I pushed his jeans all the way down to his ankles to help him widen his stance a little. Talk about down and dirty in the stables.

  “Yeah, don’t hol
d back. Been too long.” And with that we both froze as we thought about why. Then he turned his head to look at me again, serious this time, and said, “Dylan. Now.”

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