Burning Bright (29 page)

“The week I head to Florida?”

“Yeah?” Rick was giving him a strange look, but Dave couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s Gay Pride Week.”

The wolf races in where the human heart trembles to follow.

Moon Run

© 2011 Joely Skye

Wolf Town, Book 3

Iain’s head has called Wolf Town home for six years. His heart, hurt by a childhood spent suppressing his wolf, won’t let him believe he isn’t one misstep away from exile.

During the first moon run of the year, the electrifying connection his wolf makes with Teo, the pack’s beta and resident doctor, has
potential mate
written all over it.
 
Yet the only emotion that rises above the tangled scars of his past is excitement over ensuring a permanent place in Wolf Town.

Teo can’t believe Iain so easily crashed through his rock-solid resolve never to date within the pack. The young wolf’s artless, fumbling explanation for his attraction only serves to remind Teo why he set those rules—his own past in a dysfunctional pack. Guilt that he let Iain so far under his skin forces Teo to do the one thing his heart rails against. Keep it clinical.

Teo’s apparent rejection not only breaks Iain’s heart, it triggers a deep-seated desperation that pushes him to take a terrible chance for the sake of the pack. And to show Teo their connection is no illusion.

Warning: Contains explicit m/m sex for all the wrong reasons, all the right reasons, and a relationship that starts out on the wrong paw.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Moon Run:

After plonking his beer on the side table, Teo turned back just as Iain reached him. He grabbed Iain by the arms—not what he’d been expecting. He thought Teo would stand, get out of the way. He thought he was chasing Teo out of his apartment so he could stop feeling this shitty emotion of regret and hurt. Too easily hurt, that was him. But he’d forgotten—because his wolf instincts were worth shit—that Teo was beta and didn’t stand down from challenges, even stupid ones from the pack idiot.

They glared at each other, Teo’s
what the fuck
expression sapping Iain of some of his anger. He pulled his legs under him, even as Teo continued to hold him, not allowing him closer, not pushing him away either. Iain’s knees now leaned against Teo’s strong thigh, and he reacted. Of course he did.

Not how it fucking went, this dance. No. But still, the press against that thigh, the pressure of those large hands on his arms—Iain shuddered in reaction. And when Teo didn’t throw him aside, Iain leaned in and placed his face in the crook between neck and shoulder, while his chest rested against Teo’s side.

Needy. Never enough. It put people off. He should know. He’d done it before. He was always like this, unless they got down to the fucking right away.

Goddammit. But still he breathed in Teo, soaking up the physical contact…waiting for Teo to gingerly extract himself from this embarrassing display, or for his body to become tense with displeasure at the unexpected embrace.

Just a little longer…

What was going on here? Besides the obvious. A part of Teo wanted to shove Iain away, but the idea of sending him sprawling caused Teo pain. It was the oddest embrace he could remember, his hands on a man’s arms while he leaned against him.

And yet it had been too long. His body was reacting, hard. He was a fool, Teo thought a little grimly, to think he could focus elsewhere. He’d been ignoring his basic nature as if he thought he didn’t require…

…this.

Not wanting to leave bruises on Iain’s arms, he slowly relaxed his grip and tried to work out a course of action, a way to extract himself from this situation.

“Iain,” he said in a low voice.

“Don’t speak.” The words were muffled against his collarbone. “Better that way. Just…go.”

There was his out—and yet it wasn’t. Iain was waiting to be pushed away, expecting it, and that bothered Teo. He also didn’t understand. Admittedly he hadn’t paid close attention, but he was pretty sure Iain was popular among the guys who liked guys, and not only in a theoretical way.

He slid a hand over Iain’s shoulder and down his back, the thin T-shirt allowing him to feel the musculature as well as the bumps dotting Iain’s spine.

The motion made Iain breathe in hard, and arousal seemed to thicken in the air.

Don’t lead him on.
That was wrong, yes. Teo didn’t do that.

End it now
, Teo told himself sternly, except his conscience, if that’s what it was, faltered. Because ending it here and now, well, that felt wrong too.

His wolf wanted Iain. That desire had been stifled while Teo kept his distance and practiced medicine in the town. But there was no distance between them at this moment.

Iain mouthed his neck and Teo jerked.

“Iain.” The word came out more intense, like a command, and Iain raised his face, darkened eyes gazing into Teo’s, and he could imagine his eyes were similarly black with dilation. “I’m your doctor.”

The pad of Iain’s thumb came to rest on Teo’s lips, rubbed back and forth over his mouth, and Teo hardened further.

“No.” Iain traced Teo’s lips. “I don’t like doctors. I don’t go to them. I don’t go to
you
.” That thumb pressed into the corner of Teo’s mouth, stroked just slightly, making Teo want to open his mouth for a kiss.

Iain placed his palm on the curve of Teo’s jaw, and he felt mesmerized by this attention to his face.

“You are
not
my doctor, okay?”

“Look—”

Iain’s lips came to rest on Teo’s, not quite a kiss but making it difficult to speak, his thumb connected to the tender skin, his palm a caress on his jawline. “Tell me what you want.”

Teo’s chest heaved once. He was the beta. He didn’t fuck around. But somehow Iain’s hand slid down Teo’s chest and into his sweats. It wrapped around his dick, and he jerked a second time.

It had been too long. And Iain was too goddamn appealing. His moral weakness should have appalled Teo, except his wolf insisted this felt right, and Teo generally listened to his wolf, who had never led him astray, even at the worst of times.

Iain kept his mouth on Teo, this not-quite-kiss. “Tell me.”

Tell him what? Teo had lost track of the conversation.

And it was too late. This was a type of intimacy anyway. Iain was not his patient, not yet at least, and there weren’t actual fucking rules about betas and sex. Those were all in Teo’s head. The rules to make life right and avoid past mistakes.

Teo’s head emptied out, what with Iain stroking him, making his body thrum with pleasure, a thumb gliding over the slit before the stroking resumed.

“Christ.” His voice sounded hoarse, and Iain grinned.

“Allow me.” Iain slid down Teo’s body, entirely pleasurable, and brought Teo’s sweats and boxers with him. Then, hands on Teo’s hips, Iain licked the glans, setting off a series of jolts through Teo’s body.

Iain’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock, and Teo groaned. There was expertise here he could appreciate. Iain moved his tongue down the underside of Teo’s dick, approaching his balls.

Teo slammed his hands on the couch. “Jesus.”

Both balls were pulled gently into Iain’s mouth, even while he kept his grip on Teo’s hips, a massaging movement with his palms. As Iain took Teo in his mouth again, Teo brought his hands to Iain’s shoulders, let the feel of them, the tendons, the bones beneath skin, become familiar terrain, a kind of knowledge of touch, even as Iain rose and fell, establishing a rhythm.

Always have an ace up your sleeve.

Coyote’s Creed

© 2011 Vaughn R. Demont

Broken Mirrors, Book 1

If con games were taught in high school, Spencer Crain would be on the honor roll. As it is, he’ll be riding the edge of failure to graduation next month. Then Spence gets the news that his long-gone father is not only dead, but was a Coyote, one of three clans of tricksters in the City.

With a near-catatonic mother on his hands, Spence couldn’t care less about the Coyotes’ ongoing feud with the Phouka and the Kitsune—until it lands on his doorstep. Suddenly he’s thrown headfirst into a dangerous world he knows next-to-nothing about. His only guide is Rourke, dashing King of the Phouka, plus a growing pack of half-siblings, a god, and Fate herself.

As Spence embarks on a journey to learn the Coyote’s creed, the truth about his heritage, and how to handle his growing attraction to Rourke, he wonders when his life turned from TV sitcom to real-life danger zone. And what price must he pay to survive the next roll of the dice…

Warning: Contains PG-13 rated violence, R-rated language and X-rated hotel scenes. Meta-humor, pop-culture humor, utter disregard for the 4th wall abound.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Coyote’s Creed:

He chances a glower before returning his eyes to the road. “Spencer, you have looked as you do all of your life. Imagine how humorous it was whenever you claimed mythical creatures didn’t exist while you were in the same room with them. Now, as I was saying, normally Her Grace would graciously afford me lodging at the Regent, but since you’re plotting actions that will further the Feud, I cannot render any assistance. You, however, should have no problem getting a room on your own there.”

“Are we talking about the same place? The one in Allora? On Park Street?” The one that costs a few bills a night and has the little fridges with the fifty-dollar cookies. “Rourke, I can run a decent short con…”

“That you can, my boy, especially with your cards.”

“But I doubt I can hustle a room at the Regent without, well,
hustling
.”

“I’m certain you’ll think of something.” And he does sound sure of that.

Nothing jumps out. Most of my short cons only yield double digits, and I doubt I could set up a Three Card Monte in downtown Allora without being arrested inside of ninety seconds.

By the time he pulls into the garage for the Regent, I’m scraping the barrel. Whoring into a room is not an option (I could never face Mom again), but I don’t really see any other way. Technically, if I had the cash I could get a room as I’m eighteen and they’re bound by law to not refuse me service as long as I can foot the bill, but seeing as I don’t have that kind of money on me and… And…

My God his eyes are amazing.

“Spencer?” He cocks his head, confusion in his gaze, and I lean closer. “This is hardly a good time to—”

I unbuckle my seat belt and straddle his lap, facing him, my hands stroking along his sides, gripping his ass, rubbing over his groin where I feel definite movement while I kiss him hard. He doesn’t push me away. From his grunts and moans, I’m guessing he’s enjoying it. After nearly a minute I break away from him, my breathing a bit heavy, my forehead resting against his. “Sorry, I…I don’t know why I keep doing that, it’s just that you’re…” I kiss him again. “I really shouldn’t be doing this, not with everything that’s happening and…” I chance a grin. “How long is that wine supposed to last, anyway?”

Rourke has a slightly dreamy look in his eyes as his lips brush mine. “Get out of the car, please. My restraint is nearly at its end and you need to secure a room. Now go on.
Please.
”

I get out of the car, stuff my hands in my pockets and start toward the lobby elevator before taking a long, lingering look at him. He gestures for me to keep going. As luck would have it, the elevator is right there, and I board, taking one hand out of my pocket to push the lobby button.

And a second after the doors close and the car goes into motion, I take my other hand out, which holds an expensive leather wallet, and press the button for every one of the hotel’s twenty-three floors, ensuring that it’ll be at least a few minutes before it returns to the garage. Granted, he’ll eventually use the stairs once he realizes that I just made off with his wallet along with his…

Holy shit, with his almost twenty Benjamins.

I know he’ll find me, I haven’t taken the time to work on an alias or three, and a place like this requires ID even if you’re paying in cash. I do have a fake ID, but it’s good enough to get me into a few dive bars, not the Regent Hotel.

And if he didn’t want me to pull his cash, he shouldn’t have picked the most expensive hotel in the City. Plus, I don’t know how I managed to lift it anyway. First I was kissing him and ready to tear his clothes off right there in the car, and the next moment I knew it was time to make a hasty retreat. Pulling wallets is usually my weak area.

Maybe Rourke is right. Maybe some part of me is finally waking up and making itself known.

The woman at check-in is human, though in the office beyond the desk I see a very good-looking man with green skin and pointed ears. I request a single, nonsmoking, dry minibar, and all that’s available and ready is a suite with a view of Tolon Park which will be fifteen hundred.

The look on her face when I lay out the hundreds in a nice even line is almost worth the fact that Rourke is probably going to kill me. The second I have my keycard in my hands I walk briskly to the bank of elevators with a bellhop in tow. As the bellhop pushes the button for the twentieth floor, a well-dressed and extremely agitated man strides across the lobby after me. I can’t help it.

I wave to Rourke just as the doors close.

The elevator is ritzy, with soft colors, rich woods, a filigreed button panel, and a throwback brass half-dial to indicate the floor rather than the customary digital display or bank of lights. When the bell dings the twentieth, the bellhop goes ahead of me, a well-practiced customer-service smile on his face as he motions to his left with a white-gloved hand.

“Twenty-seventeen is right this way, sir.”

The expensive green carpets and verdant accents on the wall make me wonder if I’ve wandered into the Emerald City. He shows me how to open the door, and I let him, since he’s obviously working for a tip. The door beeps softly, a gentle green light appearing on the lock.