Available February 2020
Includes the short story Feisty Little Firecracker.
Heaven Sent gets a hell of new keyboardist with a name to match. Heller Witting is an amazing musician and proves to be key to a sound that the band was missing. With lavender hair and big violet eyes, he captivates Brent Rose from the start, and not just with his music.
Brent knows better than to get involved with a member of the band. That just invites trouble and the last thing he wants is trouble for Heaven Sent. So he’ll just keep the attraction to himself. Doesn’t matter anyway. Hell couldn’t possibly want him. After all, Brent’s not gorgeous and flashy like the other members of the band.
When Hell makes his interest in Brent all too obvious, Brent is unprepared and unable to stay away.
Fine, if they just keep it at sex, everything will be all right.
©2020 Jet Mykles – all rights reserved
“I’ve been watching you.”
They were going to do this now? He patted his pocket for his pack of smokes. “Yeah.” He wasn’t ready. If he stalled, hopefully Hell would give up and head on up to his room alone.
“I want you.”
Brent froze, anger draining as he was speared by an intense violet gaze.
Hell turned his arm so his fingers curled up in front of his chin. The frothy lace of his cuffs spilled down his forearm, displaying the gold bracelet, ring, and the chains that linked them over the back of his hand. “Mmm.” He straightened his index finger slightly to trace the top curve of his upper lip with a manicured fingernail.
Brent swallowed. “We can’t.”
“The band …” The finger was distracting. Or was it the lips?
“You slept with Luc.”
“That was different.”
The tip of Hell’s pink tongue nudged out to lick one side of his upper lip. “I’d die to know what it’s like to have those talented fingers on me.” Oh, the accent just made that sentence so very amazing.
Said fingers went lifeless and dropped the cigarette.
Hell’s gaze dropped.
Brent realized a hole was burning in his slacks.
“Fuck!” He jumped up, sending the chair clattering to the tiles behind him. He brushed off the burning ash. No flames, but there was a definite burn mark.
Brent froze again when Hell’s boots and legs appeared in his downcast vision. He started to back away on instinct, but Hell’s hands reached up to cup his face, tilting it so Brent had to straighten and look at him. With the heels on the boots, Hell’s height reached just above Brent’s chin. He gazed into the cherub’s face. He’d never seen that hunger in those eyes. It made them a deep, beguiling indigo. Hypnotizing.
Hell grimaced slightly; then Brent felt thumbs and fingers at the arms of his sunglasses, pressing them up.
“Hey,” he reached up to grab at Hell’s hands.
He didn’t get a grip on the slim wrists before Hell yanked his face down and took his lips in a kiss.
Oh, God! Brent heard the moan ooze from his throat as liquid heat shot through his veins. Just the touch of those soft lips with the remnants of gloss was enough to chase away thoughts and bring forward pure feeling. Fingers dug into his hair, pushing his sunglasses up farther, as the lips parted and the point of a warm, wet tongue teased the seam of Brent’s lips. He opened without hesitation, sucking in the questing tongue, pulling hard. Hell let out a grunt of surprise that turned into a ragged groan. He stepped closer to Brent, his belly brushing Brent’s erection through layers of fabric. Unthinking, Brent dropped his arms around Hell’s waist, pulling the smaller man closer to increase the pressure. They both sighed. Hell’s arms slid up to wind around Brent’s neck, and Brent’s hands spanned out, one over the middle of Hell’s back and one dropping down to squeeze a firm ass cheek.
Fingers again tangled in his hair, this time at the back of his skull, and pulled until he was forced to break the kiss. Both he and Hell sucked in breath without breaking their embrace.
Hell recovered first. “Elevator.”
Reason tried to wiggle its way to the surface of Brent’s brain. “Wait.”
“No. No waiting.” Sharp teeth nipped at Brent’s chin. “Need to fuck you.”
He groaned. “But …”
Hell unwound the arm with the free hand from around Brent’s neck and wormed it down between them. Brent hissed when firm fingers melded to his cock. “Want you.” Need put more of the German accent into his voice so that it came out sounding like “Vant you.” “Want to know how you taste.”
Brent was only a flesh-and-blood human being, and at the moment, all of his flesh and blood was at the mercy of the cherub’s hot little hand and seductive, commanding voice.
He closed his eyes and swallowed, walking backwards at Hell’s nudge. He had to trust that Hell knew where they were going because the man had a solid grip on his cock and didn’t seem to be anywhere close to letting go. Brent’s back came up against a wall. Hell tilted his head down into another tongue-sucking kiss, only freeing his hand to lower it to press the elevator button once Brent was fully engaged in the lip lock.
When the doors opened, Hell pushed. Brent stumbled free of his hold and leaned against the low railing circling the three walls of the elevator. Hell stepped inside and pressed the button with the hand that held Brent’s sunglasses.
Brent stared at the glasses. They looked so odd, so ordinary in someone else’s hands. Especially those hands. Long and elegant, somewhat hidden beneath the lacy flounce of his shirt cuffs. Rings shone from most of the fingers as he raised the sunglasses. Brent watched in fascination as Hell used the tip of one earpiece to trace the full curve of his bottom lip.
“Your kiss is divine, Süsser.” The last word sounded like an endearment, kind of “si-ssur” with a hard i and a drawn out s in the middle. He had no idea what it meant but it sounded sexy as hell. Hell stepped toward Brent, sucking the earpiece between his lips. “How does the rest of you taste?”
Brent swallowed, trying once more to regain some sanity. “Hell, we shouldn’t do this.”
“Oh, yes. We should.”
Brent shook his head. “The band.”
Hell stepped into his body, pressing Brent against the back wall. “You already slept with one other member of the band.” He pressed his other palm over Brent’s heart, the earpiece of the sunglasses still between his lips. Dark amethyst eyes met his. “What’s one more?”
Brent couldn’t take his eyes off that part of his sunglasses, disappearing in and out of Hell’s lips. That pink tongue came out to caress the plastic, and Brent had to wet his own lips at the sight. “That’s not…”
Hell leaned in, tilting up toward his mouth. “I want you so much.” Lips hovered beneath Brent’s, the plastic of the glasses an odd hardness at the corner of their mouths “Please don’t say I can’t have you.”
The elevator doors hissed open.
Hell stepped back.
Brent stumbled forward, leaning into the kiss that Hell now backed away from.
Hell grabbed the front of Brent’s shirt and led the way out of the elevator. “Come.”
Mistake! Brent’s brain screamed. Yet here he was, following the cherub like a stunned puppy.