Rough Attraction (27 page)

Maxum pulled back a step, his face screwing up in a question.

Darko smirked and offered a lighthearted shrug. “That sweet kiss stayed your ass that day in front of my brother’s house when you wanted to leave then; I was thinking maybe they could come in handy right about now.”

Something melted, some shadow sliding right off of Maxum’s face, “You want me to stay?”

“I want you to try to be with me.” Darko reached out taking Maxum’s hands in his. A boyish smile on his face, because he had to admit it felt strange. For him, as well as for the both of them, but he wasn’t about to let go either. “I want you to give
us
a try.”

“You’ll give me another chance to make things right?”

“Things were already right from the start; I am giving you a chance to stop running.”

Maxum let out a heavy sigh of relief, “No running. I want this.” Maxum fell silent a moment gathering some resolve for himself. Maxum never considered himself as a real risk taker. Life to him came with two options. For him there were challenging hurdles, numbers he knew how to calculate far in advance of what direction they would take that meant reaping the rewards, and then there was foolishly throwing money away. He liked spending his money on enjoyable things, not tossing it out without purpose or usefulness. Darko, had until now, seemed like a huge risk that came with instant rewards, but no certainty of the long run. “I’ll be honest no one has ever scared me like you do, but damned if I can make myself let go of you. I want you. Hell, you’re already brandished into my veins. I’m not letting go so you might as well come to terms with it.”

“Only, I have something to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

“No, not anything, just this one thing.”

“What is it?”

“That you let me show you how much I want to be with you. That I can be the man you will be with for years to come.”

“So how do we start?”

Darko’s gaze flickered to the large television screen and the crowd it showed in the city below. Cheering and party favors abound as the moment approached. “Well it’s almost midnight. Maybe stepping into the new year with an old tradition is a good start.”

“You want me to make a New Year’s resolution?”

“Kinda. How much money did you donate tonight?”

Maxum sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a solemn sigh that ended in a warm smile. “A hundred and fifty grand.”

Darko cocked a brow up at the six-digit sum. “Well that might get you a kiss.” Despite the dim lighting of the room, the copper brilliance Darko had seen in Maxum’s eyes the first time they met sparked back to life and he realized he had missed the flickering color.

“A kiss? That’s all I get?” Maxum was suddenly put on a pouty bewildered look, “Not even a door prize?”

Darko shrugged, trying not to laugh at the playful look at his knight. “What were you expecting for just a hundred and fifty grand?” Darko mirrored the surprised expression along with a wicked grin.

“Well, I don’t know. I was kinda hoping I got to keep the man giving the kiss.” He took a step in, bringing them almost nose to nose.

Darko took on a more cocky arrogant air. “I think you’re over calculating the value of your money here.” He leaned in nudging his nose against Maxum’s in a taunting glance. His smoldering blue eyes dropping down to consider Maxum’s lips in a visual caress he could feel. “Perhaps we could consider it a down payment and work out some kind of arrangement.” He drew one of Maxum’s hands toward him, depositing it on his hip, then took Maxum’s hip in his own. “With your budget, I’m sure we could work it out in installments. Maybe even a parking space.” He brought an arm over Maxum’s shoulder, delivering more of that smoldering aura he was well aware were among his seduction skills. The countdown on the television at Times Square began just as the starting-lights for Darko’s approach had.

Ten
—
nine
—

“I might have to put in a little overtime, but I think I can manage that.” Maxum grinned at him.

Seven
—
Six
—
Five
—

Maxum’s smile paused and he let out a deeply contented sigh. “I want to make a New Year’s resolution here. I want to promise that I can be a forever man and I am willing to devote the rest of my life to prove it to you.”

Three
—
two
—

And just as the countdown reached its climax with the ball dropping at Times Square being shown on the television screen, Darko pulled Maxum in. Kissing this man, he’d spotted on the side of the road one early winter morning and knew then, they were meant for each other—
a rough attraction
—
like rocket fuel and fast cars
.

THE END

ABOUT THE TWINS

Talon and Princess like any set of twins, was far closer than just your average brother and sister and went through life sharing and liking many of the same things, music, writing, rocks and even the desire for men.

Now sharing a home in Tarpon Springs, Florida, where they raise Prin’s daughter fondly named the Bug. They found themselves returning to writing, in the form of screen-writes with hopes of one day seeing one of their scripts put to actual film. They never did.

Both worked in the concert Industry: Prin did everything from being a stagehand to Production manager, while Talon remained a tour rigger and steel climber. Yet writing would call them back time and time again.

This time, the call came in the form of a dream Prin had, when she was down with pneumonia. After three days stuck in bed, when she found she could finally muster the strength to get up, she spent the next two days glued to her computer and typed out over a hundred pages, but there was something missing and the both she and Talon agreed it needed to push the envelope of romance and give its audience some explicit intimacy. Thus delivery them into the world of writing Erotic Romance. They never looked back, and since that time of August of 2010, together they started thirty-six books, from Ancient Adventures to the Paranormal Romance, from Dark Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy to Happy-ever-after Gay Romance; From BDSM to Sci-fi and everything in between. All containing some hot steamy sex scenes.

While they both had a hand in each, the books, like kids with trading cards {or in their case trading rocks} were divided up with the sense of some books belonging as their own while others were a shared project. In July of 2012, Talon passed away due to an injury he’d sustained in 2010 that had been complicated by a hereditary illness he and Prin also shared. Now the remaining 32 books unpublished have been left with Prin along with a promise to complete them.

In the countdown, this is book 31

“I’m about to make you wet”                

                           ~ Talon ps

“Have you ever dreamed something so wondrous and frightening, you had wake yourself, so you could write it down?”

                           ~ Princess so

BONUS READ I

TAKING OVER TROFIM

Book 4: Dominion of Brothers series

CHAPTER I

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Trofim finished his shower, and went to his locker with nothing more than the towel tied at his hips. He needed to get out of there. Instead he found himself dropping down to the bench overwhelmed with old feelings. That face up on the bridge looking down just as his team rowed underneath— he knew that face, remembered it all too well. It still hurt to see him. After all this time. It would be just like Shay Wilks to come sneaking around, but Trofim’s heart couldn’t take it. That Shay would show his face at their first practice outside the tank hall would seem more than coincidence.

“Are you joining us for dinner?” He heard the gentle question reach him through everything else that bombarded his mind. Trofim looked over finding his brother’s concerned face. He never could hide anything from Pyotr and what he felt now had started back in the fall at the championship race.

Shay had been there too. He was in the stroke seat on the New Rochelle Master’s Rowing Team. Trofim was only grateful he hadn’t seen him on the river during the race or he would have likely created a similar wreckage of oars for his teammates as Shay had for his.
So he was told
. No doubt Shay’s father, former Senator Benjamin Wilks, was out there and saw what caused his son’s failure. The New Rochelle Team would have taken third place in the Masters if it hadn’t been for that calamity. A wrecking ball he was grateful to have been oblivious of, except when Shay came running up to congratulate him after receiving the championship trophy, he nearly crash-landed off the platform trying to get away. Seeing Shay again brought on a storm of old emotions both good and painful. The worst of them, was knowing Shay's father would see them and he couldn’t allow that.

“Trofim?” Pyotr’s fatherly tone broke through the clouds in his head.

“Sorry.” Trofim averted his eyes. Pyotr had just gone through the death of his lover’s sister, Kimmi; and was still nurturing Cliff and himself through the grieving. The last thing he wanted to do was dump his five-year-old broken heart melodrama on the man. “Nah, I’m good. I think I’m just gonna go home.”

“When you’re ready then.” Pyotr gave him a long reassuring look, like a pillar only a brother could provide before he vanished behind the wall to head out. It was his brother’s way of saying he would be there for him whenever he was ready to talk. Even with a new love of his own, Pyotr would never stop being Pyotr. Nothing was too important to keep him from family. Always the big brother that looked after his siblings as if they had been his own all along and in a sense, they were. After all, Trofim had only been eleven years old when their parents sent them out of Yugoslavia to flee the coming civil war. Pyotr became the only mother and father they had after that.

“I got tired of waiting outside for you.” Someone spoke from behind him.

Trofim spun about, jumping to his feet and backed against the lockers at the familiar voice. His heart sank the millisecond his eyes came upon the handsomely refined face of Shay Wilks. “What are you doing here?” He swallowed hard trying to regain his bearings and hopefully some resistance.

Shay took a step towards him closing the space between them that wasn’t nearly enough and placed one hand flat against the lockers next to his shoulder.

Trofim’s eyes followed the possessive move of Shay’s arm still formatted with the muscles of an athlete and took that as a sign to move away. One step and Shay slapped his other hand up blocking his escape. “Still running I see.” It was more of an accusation than something arrogant. So much of the
rich boy
attitude from up state was at work in Shay.

“I didn’t run. I left. I got that break into modeling. It required a lot of travel.” Trofim spoke out on his defense. Even if it wasn’t entirely the truth.

“Yes I know, but were you so busy you couldn’t pick up the phone and call your lover just once? I didn’t even get a
sayonara
from you.” Shay’s eyes drifted down Trofim’s body lapping up the very sight of him. Then back to his eyes. Blue like the night was long. Not a light blue or a sky color, but deep like a cobalt stone, the kind of blue most had to accomplish with contacts, but Shay knew first hand Trofim’s eyes were all natural. The color of his soul,
  
so deep it was staggering.

“Senator Wilks saw to that.” Trofim stifled the rest of the words he wanted to say.

Shay stilled, just inches from his face. He had always known his father had some doing in Trofim’s sudden departure, but no one, not even Trofim’s brothers would speak of it. “I was angry for months after you left and then I saw the first modeling release of you
  
” Shay laid a soft feathery kiss against Trofim’s jaw, “Saw how beautiful you are, but those first few pictures also showed your pain. I saw in your eyes you were hurting too. I tried to reach out to you, but you never came back— ‘til now.” Shay leaned back, his gaze washing over Trofim’s body as if he had done so with his hands. “So handsome.” He whispered, as if remembering something far more intimate, “I think I’ve managed to collect every photo ad ever printed of you.” His hands dropped from the lockers to Trofim’s arms, feeling the pumped muscles of his biceps. His eyes locked on the muscular curves, “Damn, rowing has been good to your body.” Shay’s hands moved up over the other man’s shoulders then glided down over his chest. Both hands squeezing the well-built pecs firmly then catching one of Trofim’s sensitive nipples between his fingers and pinched him hard.

Before the gasp could barely break past Trofim’s lips, Shay came over them, his tongue plunging into his mouth and lapping at his tongue. Claiming him all over again with a deep hunger that had never been quenched by anyone but him. Trofim was spontaneously drowning in the kiss, feeling the man’s arms tighten around him like a snake coiling around its prey, refusing to allow even the slightest chance for escape. Yet it was the kiss which made him stay. Shay had a mouth that could get you drunk on the euphoria of its caress, as if his kiss were made of honey wine. And he force fed an entire barrel of it into his mouth that very moment. Delivering and eating all at the same time. Moreover, to ensure there was nothing left of his resistance, Shay pressed in, delivering a firm grinding of his hardened arousal against Trofim’s own cock. Pulling his hips to ride against him.

Despite every brain cell sending up immediate alarms to get away, Trofim’s body knew it was in the arms meant to hold him and everything lit up. Awake and wanting. Convincing him to stay.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

BONUS READ II

Domming the Heiress