Stuff (The Bristol Collection) (39 page)

Perry’s gaze ran up and down Mas’s body like he was contemplating a super-sized version of him. “I’d still love you, whatever you looked like.”

“Yeah, you say that now, but you’ve only ever seen me in all my slim, well-groomed, youthful glory.”

“Not true.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, because right now all I can see is a giant piece of something green stuck in your teeth, and I still want to kiss you.”

“Ugh!” Mas peered at his reflection in an ice bucket and picked with a fingernail until the offending scrap of lettuce was removed. “All that proves is you’re a good boy and like your greens.”

“No, I think it proves I’m a very bad boy, as I want to go and do wicked things to you.”

“Hey, now you’re talking. You think we can ditch this shindig early and head back to the hotel?” Perry had point-blank refused to stay in his family home, and Mas was relieved they had somewhere private they could go to. Sir Whatsit was still giving them the evils, so the idea of staying under his roof wasn’t exactly comfortable. “What do you reckon? I know it’s only a Holiday Inn, so it’s gonna be a bit of a comedown after this, but at least we’ll be on our own together.”

“I don’t care where I am, so long as you’re with me.”

“You really are getting better at the romantic shit. Next thing we know, you’ll be comparing my eyes to something precious and sparkly.”

“I was thinking they remind me of serpentine.”

“You’re saying I have snake eyes?”

“No, serpentine. It’s a gemstone.”

“Never heard of it. Does it sparkle?” Mas narrowed his eyes. “Is it expensive?”

Perry winced. “Not exactly. It’s semiprecious. But it’s beautiful. All these soft, muddy green colours marbled together. That’s much more interesting to look at than a faceted stone. At least, to me it is.”

Mas contemplated drawing out Perry’s obvious discomfort for a bit longer, but he just didn’t have the heart. “Thank you,” he said, taking Perry’s hand. “I reckon I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”

Relief washed over Perry’s face. “Oh, it is. Believe me. Your eyes are stunning.”

Music started up over in the corner. A Boyzone cover band, amazingly enough, who looked to be almost as tasty as the real thing had been.

“This first one’s traditionally just for the bride and groom,” the singer said, leaning into his microphone, “but I’ve been told that today they’re going to be joined by the bride’s younger brother and his partner. So please all put your hands together for the two happy couples.”

“This is us,” Mas said. “I told you Letty wanted us to stay for it. You up for it?”

Perry grinned and stood, holding out his hand. “Care to dance, dearest?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

About the Author

English through and through, Josephine Myles is addicted to tea and busy cultivating a reputation for eccentricity. She writes gay erotica and romance, but finds the erotica keeps cuddling up to the romance, and the romance keeps corrupting the erotica. She blames her rebellious muse but he never listens to her anyway, no matter how much she threatens him with a big stick. She’s beginning to suspect he enjoys it.

Jo is one of the organising team behind the
UK Meet
, an annual event celebrating GLBTQ fiction. She publishes regularly with Samhain, but has also been known to edit anthologies and self-publish on occasion, although she prefers to leave the “boring bits” of the book creation process to someone else.

Visit
www.JosephineMyles.com
for more about her published stories, saucy free reads and regular blog posts.

Look for these titles by Josephine Myles

Now Available:

Barging In

Handle with Care

The Hot Floor

Screwing the System

Junk

Merry Gentlemen

Letting go is the first step to healing…or bringing it all crashing down.

Junk

© 2013 Josephine Myles

The Bristol Collection, Book 1

When an avalanche of books cuts off access to his living room, university librarian Jasper Richardson can no longer ignore the truth. His ever-growing piles of books, magazines and newspapers can no longer be classified as a “collection”. It’s a hoard, and he needs professional help.

Professional clutter clearer and counselor Lewis Miller thinks he’s seen it all, but even he has to admit he’s shocked. Not so much by the state of Jasper’s house, but by the level of attraction he still feels for the sexy bookworm he remembers from school.

What a shame that Lewis’s ethical code forbids relationships with clients. As Jasper makes slow but steady progress, though, the magnetic pull between them is so strong even Lewis is having trouble convincing himself it’s a temporary emotional attachment arising from the therapeutic process.

Jasper longs to prove to Lewis that this is the real deal. But first he’ll have to lay bare the root of his hoarding problem…and reveal the dark secret hidden behind his walls of books.

Warning: Contains a level-headed counselor with a secret addiction, a bespectacled geek with a sweet tooth, a killer “to-be-read” pile, embarrassing parents, a van called Alice, and deliciously British slang.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Junk:

Okay, so he hadn’t been strictly honest about the hypnotism thing. There was definitely an element of that involved in helping Jasper to relax, but this was therapy, not stage magic, and Jasper so urgently needed to unwind.

Lewis continued in the same soft monotone. “And as your eyelids grow heavy and you listen to my voice and feel the sunshine warming your skin, I want you to picture your house in the future, after we’ve finished all our sessions and you’ve moved things on to new homes. Everything is going to be just how you’ve always dreamed about it. The perfect house for you, and you’re about to walk me through it, proud to show me everything you’ve achieved. We’re going to start at the front gate, and you’re meeting me there. Now you’re going to take me to the front door and describe what you’re seeing on the way.”

The silence stretched out for what felt like minutes, but Lewis didn’t mind when he was sitting in the drowsy July sunshine, watching Jasper concentrate. With Jasper’s eyes closed, it was impossible not to notice how lusciously thick his eyelashes were, and how strong the lines of his face were in repose.

Eventually Lewis had to nudge. “You’re walking me down the front path, and I need you to tell me what you’re seeing.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Sorry, I got lost in there.” Jasper’s body tensed again, and his left eye twitched.

Lewis instinctively reached out to take his hands. Damn. Hadn’t meant to do that. Still, Jasper’s breathing slowed again, so maybe this was just the way it needed to be. Some people relaxed best when in physical contact with someone else. Lewis worked on keeping his arms and hands supple and limber, so as not to transmit any of his misgivings to Jasper.

“That’s fine. Just talk me through what you’re seeing in your front garden now.”

“The garden? Oh, it’s nice. Erm, pretty. Lighter. I’ve pruned the trees, and the ground underneath them is covered in soft moss, with daffodils bobbing around in the breeze. It’s how it used to be. When I was little.”

“And the front of the house?” Lewis prompted when Jasper fell silent again.

“It looks good. The curtains are all open. The windows gleam. All those green stains are gone. You can see into the rooms. You can actually see inside.”

“You’re going to walk me up to the front door now. What colour is it?”

“Red,” Jasper said, decisively. “A rich, warm burgundy kind of red.”

“Sounds cheerful.” And worlds away from the scuffed and peeling navy it was at the moment. “How do you feel, waiting by the door to show me inside?”

“I’m… I’m nervous. But just a little. Happy nervous. Not like I was the first time you came inside. I think I must be… Yes, I’m excited.” Jasper’s words came in a breathless rush, like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. “I’m going to open the door now. The lock turns easily, and the door opens all the way inside.”

“What can we see now? What furniture is inside your hallway?”

“A hat stand. Somewhere for you to put your coat, and the table by the door’s still there, but it’s just got a bowl on it for my keys and wallet. Nothing else. I’ve got one of those wire baskets on the back of the door to catch all the letters and junk mail. But I don’t get much of that anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“I filled in a form and took it to the post office.” Jasper’s eyes sprang open. “I did that. I really did it. Last week. I meant to tell you when you got here, but I forgot.”

“That’s great.” So they were making some progress after all, at least in terms of stopping new paper coming into the house, anyway. “That’s a really good step to take. Now, I want you to tell me what you see on the floors and the walls.”

“The floor is polished marble. It really is, you know? It’s under there somewhere. Kind of cold, but there’s a colourful carpet to soften it. One of those Persian rugs, all warm colours and patterns.”

“And the walls?”

“Covered in books.”

“In books?”

Jasper smiled then. A cheeky little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It suited him. “Books. Everywhere. But they’re on shelves now. And I know where they all are. They’re all ones I’m looking forward to reading. Fiction. I’ve moved unread fiction down to the hallway.”

“Okay, so you’re starting to decide where you want things to end up. That’s great. What about the lounge? What’s it like in there?”

“There’s a sofa and a couple of armchairs. Brown leather. And the fireplace is working again. I’ve got logs burning in there. It’s cosy. Other than that…it’s bookshelves again. Floor to ceiling on every wall but the outside one. I’ve got the old books in here. Leather-bound ones. Looks really classy with all those rich colours and the gilt on the spines. You can smell them. That sweet, old-paper fragrance.” Jasper opened his eyes again and gave Lewis a fiercely defiant look. “I’m still going to need lots of books around me.”

“That’s fine. No one’s saying you shouldn’t have your favourite things around you. I like the idea of bookshelves. What kind are they? Built in or freestanding?” The more detail in which Jasper could picture this, the better he’d be motivated to work towards it. That was the theory, anyway. If Lewis were being brutally honest with himself, though, he was just enjoying listening to him talk. The way Jasper’s face lit up when he pictured his house in working order again—that was magical.

“The shelves are wooden. Built in. I must have hired a carpenter, because I don’t know how to do all that kind of thing. Can barely rewire a plug. Should have learned, really, but by the time I was old enough, Dad had died.”

Lewis’s heart melted at the plaintive tone in Jasper’s voice, but it was time to steer him away from negative thinking. “Okay, it’s fine to get help with the things we can’t manage ourselves yet. Carpenters need customers too. But tell me more about the room. When do you use it? What do you like to do in here?”

“I come in here every morning after breakfast to drink my coffee and read a book. I like to sit in the armchair by the window. There’s good light there. And in the evening… In the evening, I spend time in here with my…my…”

“Your friends?” Lewis prompted. Jasper needed a social life.

“With my boyfriend,” Jasper said, his eyes springing open. “With you.”

Lewis stared, his heart hammering wildly, as Jasper leaned forward and cupped his jaw. He should move. Back away. Laugh it off.

He should do something sensible and act like the therapist he was.

But he was flesh-and-blood too, and he wanted this. God, how he wanted it.

Lewis’s id told his superego to go take a long walk off a short pier.

Jasper’s lips touched his. Tentative. Soft and searching.

Lewis moaned and opened his lips to deepen the kiss.

’Tis the season of goodwill to all men…even the one who dumped you.

Merry Gentlemen

© 2013 Josephine Myles

Riley MacDermott’s ambitions are simple. Managing the annual Bath Christmas Market—which involves long hours in the cold and a whole lot of hassle—will secure the promotion he needs to afford to move out of his noisy, top-floor flat. Where not even his balcony is safe from an aggressive herring gull.

The last stallholder he expects to see is his ex. Riley never recovered from their breakup, and five years on, the old chemistry still sparkles. So does their habitual head butting.

Stan never wanted to leave the love of his life, but the pull of the woods was too strong—and Riley was firmly planted in the city. Reconnecting is painful, but Stan still jumps at the chance to stay with his old flame during the Market. And damn the consequences.

As the weeks pass, the two grow closer than ever. But despite scorching sex and cozy intimacy, they both know they face a cold and lonely future. Unless one of them can compromise.