Fish Out of Water (38 page)

God
, Ellery was hard, thick and aching in his slacks, and he fumbled with his belt one-handed. He took Jackson down again, holding him there between his lips and teasing with his tongue so he could undress, shoving his pants and boxers down and grabbing himself as he grabbed Jackson. He let go with his mouth and caught his breath, flicking lips and tongue over the head while he stroked himself to the edge.

Then he really went to work.

Jackson’s inarticulate grunts amped up, turned to frenzied cries, turned to Jackson gasping Ellery’s name as his hips arched off the chair and he spurted, thick, salty, and clotted, into Ellery’s mouth.

Ellery closed his eyes and swallowed, tasting it all, bitter, slimy, and animal.

He groaned, still hard, and Jackson pulled his hair again, lifting him up, up, until he stood in front of the kitchen chair with his dick at a ninety-degree angle, aimed at Jackson’s mouth. Jackson stroked him, looking up into his eyes.

“Counselor, you’ve got my come on your mouth.”

“Want some?”

Jackson’s smile said filthy, sexy things about what he wanted.

“I’m going to suck you fucking dry.”

His mouth, hot, slick, hard, closed over Ellery’s cock, and Ellery tilted his head back and shuddered. Oh God, he was talented, taking Ellery down to the root, then pulling back, his tongue lashing around the head, probing the slit, his lips closing tightly over the edge of the bell.

Ellery groaned, and it was his turn to knot his fingers in Jackson’s hair, but he couldn’t make himself pull, couldn’t make himself get rough. He had to settle for holding Jackson firmly and rocking his hips forward, letting Jackson swallow, then canting them back and letting him lick. Again, and again, his rhythm slow but intense, because Jackson’s mouth was hard and tight.

And again, the climax building up from his shaking upper thighs to his—oh God! Balls! Jackson had let go of his cock and was fondling his balls while his mouth and tongue worked relentlessly, and Ellery’s knees went weak. Oh God, oh hells, oh—“
Jackson
!” he gasped. “God! Just….”

Jackson let go of his balls and grasped his cock again, then did the unthinkable and let Ellery fall out of his mouth, barely balancing his head on a flat tongue.

He stroked Ellery hard and fast with his fist, his tongue tantalizing, scooping the pre from the slit, teasing the harp string underneath, while beating, beating, faster, faster—

“
Now
!” Ellery cried, and Jackson closed his eyes just as Ellery let loose, painting his face with thick white clots of come.

Ellery orgasmed until his knees threatened to collapse and he begged, “Enough!”

Jackson released him, keeping his eyes closed, and leaned his head against Ellery’s hip while Ellery stroked his hair.

They were both sticky, covered in ejaculate, sweating from effort. Jackson used the hem of his shirt to wipe his eyes before he blinked owlishly through the come on his eyelashes.

Ellery’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings in his ears.

“Shower,” he croaked, knowing that was hard for Jackson but not caring. For a week he’d listened to the damned stubborn man wrestle the waterproof sleeve over his shoulder, keeping his scabbing stitches dry. Jackson glared at him, but Ellery shook his head. “Get the fucking sleeve—I’ll put it on. I want a shower with you, Jackson. I’ve been trying to be sensitive to you learning how to live with someone, but I’m done. Closeness. You and me. You need it as much as I do.”

“Asshole,” Jackson muttered.

In response, Ellery offered him a hand to lever up. Jackson took it. Ellery held on to him while he toed off his shoes, and then let go to pick up his clothes, and together they made their way to the bathroom.

Jackson was quiet during the shower, right up until Ellery started to soap his hair, and then he let out a groan that was positively hedonistic.

“So I’m handy to keep around.” Ellery broke the silence.

“Yeah.” Jackson leaned back a little, and Ellery finished rinsing so he could wrap an arm around his waist.

“So are you,” he said in Jackson’s ear.

“Prove it.”

“After dinner.”

Jackson had developed a smooth, almost birdlike way of moving as he’d healed, and he did that now, turning his head slowly sideways.

“Didn’t we do this bass-ackwards?”

Ellery nodded and kissed his temple. “Yeah. Well, I need my investigator working on all cylinders for the after-dinner discussion.”

Jackson sobered. “You certainly cleared out the main barrel.”

“That’s my job, Detective.”

Foolishness, yes. But when they sat down, clean, cooler, in basketball shorts, ready to eat, Ellery was grateful for their foolishness.

The world was a scary and serious place sometimes. He and Jackson were going to need all of the playing, all of the lovemaking they could manage to deal with the work ahead.

Orange

Dawson Barnes recognizes his world is very small and very charmed. Running his community college theater like a petty god, he and his best friend, Benji know they’ll succeed as stage techs after graduation. His father adores him, Benji would die for him, and Dawson never doubted the safety net of his family, even when life hit him below the belt.

But nothing prepared him for falling on Jared Emory’s head.

Aloof dance superstar Jared is a sweet, vulnerable man and Dawson’s life suits him like a fitted ballet slipper. They forge a long-distance romance from their love of the theater and the magic of Denny’s. At first it’s perfect: Dawson gets periodic visits and nookie from a gorgeous man who “gets” him—and Jared gets respite from the ultra-competitive world of dancing that almost consumed him.

That is until Jared shows up sick and desperate and Dawson finally sees the distance between them concealed painful things Jared kept inside. If he doesn’t grow up—and fast—his “superstar” might not survive his own weaknesses. That would be a shame, because the real, fragile Jared that Dawson sees behind the curtain is the person he can see spending his life with.

In a town as small as Tyson, CA, everybody knew the four brothers with the four different fathers—and their penchant for making good music when they weren’t getting into trouble. For Mackey Sanders, playing in Outbreak Monkey with his brothers and their friends—especially Grant Adams—made Tyson bearable. But Grant has plans for getting Mackey and the Sanders boys out of Tyson, even if that means staying behind.

Between the heartbreak of leaving Grant and the terrifying, glamorous life of rock stardom, Mackey is adrift and sinking fast. When he’s hit rock bottom, Trav Ford shows up, courtesy of their record company and a producer who wants to see what Mackey can do if he doesn’t flame out first. But cleaning up his act means coming clean about Grant, and that’s not easy to do or say. Mackey might make it with Trav’s help—but Trav’s not sure he’s going to survive falling in love with Mackey.

Mackey James Sanders comes with a whole lot of messy, painful baggage, and law-and-order Trav doesn’t do messy or painful. And just when Trav thinks they may have mastered every demon in Mackey’s past, the biggest, baddest demon of all comes knocking.

Terrell Washington’s childhood was a trifecta of suck: being black, gay, and poor in America has no upside. Terrell climbed his way out of the hood only to hit a glass ceiling and stop, frozen, a chain restaurant bartender with a journalism degree. His one bright spot is Colby Meyers, a coworker who has no fear, no inhibitions, and sees no boundaries. Terrell and Colby spend their summers at the river and their breaks on the back dock of Papiano’s. As terrified as Terrell is of coming out, he’s helpless to stay away from Colby’s magnetic smile and contagious laughter.

But Colby is out of college now, and he has grand plans for the future—plans Terrell is sure will leave his scrawny black ass in the Sacramento dust until a breathless moment stolen from the chaos of the restaurant tells Terrell he might be wrong. When the moment is shattered by a mystery and an act of violence, Terrell and Colby are left with two puzzles: who killed their scumbag manager, and how to fit their own lives—the black and the white of them—into a single shining tomorrow.

Johnnies: Book 1

Chase Summers: Golden boy. Beautiful girlfriend, good friends, and a promising future.

Nobody knows the real Chase.

Chase Summers has a razor blade to his wrist and the smell of his lover’s goodbye clinging to his skin. He has a door in his heart so frightening he’d rather die than open it, and the lies he’s used to block it shut are thinning with every forbidden touch. Chase has spent his entire life unraveling, and his decision to set his sexuality free in secret has only torn his mind apart faster.

Chase has one chance for true love and salvation. He may have met Tommy Halloran in the world of gay-for-pay—where the number of lovers doesn’t matter as long as the come-shot’s good—but if he wants the healing that Tommy’s love has to offer, he’ll need the courage to leave the shadows for the sunlight. That may be too much to ask from a man who’s spent his entire life hiding his true self. Chase knows all too well that the only things thriving in a heart’s darkness are the bitter personal demons that love to watch us bleed.