Pairing: m/m

The powers that be at MLR Press asked for it and I, weak as I am, agreed to do a sequel to About Something.

BLURB:

Turns out life as a drag queen isn’t what Shawn thought it would be. He loves the costumes and dressing up, but he’s found he’s better suited to performing from a script than vamping onstage. Too bad Shawn figured this out long after breaking up with Roscoe when his bossy director boyfriend told him he didn’t have what it would take.

Two years later, Shawn may not be wildly happy but he’s content. That is until Roscoe shows up to ask him to reprise his role as Beatrice in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. Roscoe is as magnetic as he’s always been and the spark between them is still burning bright.

When Roscoe turns on the charm for a more personal reunion, can Shawn resist? Does he even want to?

*********************************

© 2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Roscoe folded his forearms on the bar before him, one of his elbows brushing Shawn’s. “It’s a paying gig. Equity. You could get your card.”

“Aha.” Shawn took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on the bar. “I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why are you showing up, out of the blue, with an offer?”

Some of their audience had drifted away, but Shawn had no doubt those who remained would spread the word.

Didn’t seem like Roscoe cared who heard. “I told you. I need you. Play’s not the same without you.”

“Why that play?”

“I like that play.”

“You going to call Bonnie in California to come play Benedick?”

When there was no answer, he slanted his gaze at the other man.

Roscoe stared at the array of bottles on the mirrored wall behind the bar. He shook his head, not smiling now. “No.”

“What? You don’t think she did great?”

“I do, and you know it.”

“Right.” He took a healthy drink then carefully set his glass down. “But you weren’t sleeping with her.”

Ever aware of his performance, on and off stage, Roscoe gave it a beat, turned to face Shawn then sat back, putting some distance between them. “My offer is sincere, regardless of our past.”

“I’m sure the offer’s sincere. But it doesn’t make anything that happened between us right.”

He heard the disgusted snort even though he wasn’t looking Roscoe’s way. “Who said I was trying to make anything right? I’m trying to offer you a job.”

Shawn faced him. “A real job.”

Roscoe tilted his head.

“Go ahead, say it. You want to.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

They had a silent, rapt audience now. The only sound was the Eighties music pumping through the speakers overhead.

Shawn was not adverse to giving them a show. These people would be on his side. “Why not? I know what you want to say. What the hell are you doing slumming here anyway? You hate places like this.”

The older man shook his head. “I never said that.”

“Oh, okay. Then you just hate me being in a place like this?”

Roscoe glanced at the people surrounding them. “You sure you want to do it like this?”

“Why not? They like it here.”

The calm facade dissolved and finally Roscoe showed some anger as he crossed his arms over his chest. “My God, still the drama queen, are we?”

“Fuck you.” Shawn slammed his hand on the bar and stepped back. “I don’t need your hand out, Mr. Big Shot Director. Why don’t you go somewhere else and find someone who’s willing to bend over and take it from you.”

In one sudden move, Roscoe rolled to his feet, leaning over and into Shawn. “You used to do it willingly,” he murmured, lips just inches away from Shawn’s.

Shawn barely managed to keep himself from jumping up and wrapping himself in Roscoe’s embrace. As it was, he caught himself leaning toward the hard strength he knew was inside that shirt. Nostrils flaring, he glared up into Roscoe’s face, determined not to back down. “Not. Any. More.”

Roscoe stayed where he was, staring Shawn down. The air around them vibrated, and no one within hearing spoke.

Finally, Roscoe licked his lips. “Fine.” He took one step back. “You think about it. The offer stands, but I can only hold the role open for a week or so.”

“Don’t bother.”

Roscoe’s jaw worked from side to side, a sign to Shawn that he was reviewing and discarding a number of parting lines. In the end, he just said. “By the way, I caught your act. You were great tonight.” He turned and walked out.

Flummoxed, Shawn could only stare. He’d seen Shawn’s act? After all he’d said about how Shawn couldn’t succeed as a drag queen? Trust Roscoe to find words that would bite.

* * * * *

Thoroughly annoyed, Shawn refused to answer any questions that were pelted at him after Roscoe’s exit stage right. He fled to the haven of the dressing room and changed into his jeans and tennis shoes. After cleaning off all his makeup, he shouldered his backpack, checked his wallet to make sure he did, indeed, have cab fare then left by the back entrance.

Hailing a cab from the corner was easy, but just as he was about to duck in the back, someone came up behind him to hold the door. You don’t live in the city long before you develop a healthy dose of suspicion, so Shawn immediately straightened and jumped away.

It was Roscoe. He tilted his head forward so those black eyes peeked at Shawn over the horn rims. A lock of silky black hair dipped down to shade his eyes from the harsh street light. “Mind if I join you?”

If Shawn’s heart hadn’t already been hammering from the mild scare, it jumped into triple time now. “If I say no?”

Two years as this man’s lover had taught him what that wicked glimmer in those eyes meant. “Don’t say no.”

All blood rushed south to fill his cock and Shawn suddenly had trouble remembering why, exactly, he wanted to keep his distance from the man. Why would he decline that offer? He shrugged and climbed into the backseat, aware of the man crawling in beside him. Okay, yes, Roscoe was probably just pushing his point about the play. Mr. Director rarely gave up after only one volley. Shawn didn’t intend to give in, but, since he very well knew the tools of persuasion Roscoe had in his arsenal, he didn’t see why he couldn’t have a little fun. Yeah, he told himself as he settled in his seat, no harm in making him work for it.

“Where to?” asked the cabbie, glancing back at them through the dirty safety shield.

Shawn opened his mouth but Roscoe answered first, giving the address of his building. Before Shawn could continue to give his own address, Roscoe grabbed his arm to stop him.

He leaned closer. “Come home with me.”

Shawn swallowed, watching those gorgeous lips caress the words. Home meant a lot more when Roscoe said it, since the home he meant had been Shawn’s once too. “Why should I?”

Roscoe’s lips parted, that tongue again swiping over his bottom lip. “I want you to.”

Shawn snorted, clutching at the backpack he held in his lap. “You can’t always get what you want.”

“But you can get what you need.”

****************************

Click here for the site’s main page for Much Ado

Happy New Year!

It’s not Max and Ferris from Obsession and As A Plate, but how about Grant the photographer and Nicky, a model?

Make Me Yours

http://selenaillyria.com/2009/11/paranormal-thanksgiving-week-jet-mykles/

Available in ebook from Loose Id

FYI, this story is a big spoiler for One For The Team. If you haven’t read it and don’t want to know what happens, stop here.

OFTT is a m/f story. This story is about Jason and Davey, two of Jen’s best friends. I assure you, it becomes m/m but it starts out m/f/m.

BLURB (subject to change):

Others might be fooled into thinking Davey is just a computer nerd, but Jason knows better. He knows his geeky best friend is wicked to the core. So, he shouldn’t be surprised when Davey lures him into a threesome on the night of their friends’ wedding. Two guys and one girl turns out to be a pretty terrific thing, especially when watching Davey have sex is almost as exciting as knowing Davey is watching him. And the girl doesn’t seem to mind either.

One threesome leads to more, but then something changes. Now, when Davey touches him, it’s a whole new ballgame. Jason likes it…a lot, and he likes it even more when they try sex without the girl. Who knew?

But Jason’s troubles are just beginning. He sees newfound depths in their friendship. Depths he’s willing to explore. Too bad Davey doesn’t feel the same.

The past has taught Davey that happily ever after doesn’t exist and Jason is afraid he’ll never be able to change Davey’s mind.

Will Jason be able to convince his stubborn friend that true love is possible for their two man team?

Here’s a taste of the first chapter as it now stands. Takes place right after Jen and Ken’s wedding.

***********************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

They’d all figured Jen could handle it. None of them had intended to change their friendship or turn it into anything long-term. Just friends having fun. Then Ken had thrown a wrench into the works. Or, as he claimed, Jen had mucked it up by sleeping with Jason, Bart, and Davey but refusing to sleep with him. Jason had to admit that would have ticked him off too. Looking back on the one night when the five of them had been together, Ken was the only one who hadn’t done more than kiss Jen. Of course, she’d stayed the night with him when the rest of them had gone home. That was the night Ken had seen the proverbial light and asked Jen to marry him. Jason was happy for them. He was. Looking at them now, he wondered why no one had seen that they were meant for each other before.

But that didn’t help him tonight. Clearly, if he was going to find companionship, he would have to go elsewhere.

Setting his glass down on the pristine white tablecloth, he stood. Jen and Ken were busy, so he chose not to bother them. He’d already bestowed his congratulations on the happy couple, and he’d see them at work on Wednesday anyway since they weren’t going on their honeymoon until November. Because the restaurant was open for regular diners tonight as well, Bart would be busy.

Where was Davey? The little snot was his ride home, which was the only reason he was still drinking. Last time he’d seen the other man had been when there were still people dancing on the miniature floor. That had to have been an hour or so ago. As he meandered toward the door leading out of the banquet room, Jason pulled out his cell and sent a text to his friend: Where r u?

Once out of the room, he edged around a small dining area toward the buzz of conversation that surrounded the bar. The area was pretty typical of an upscale restaurant like Bart’s. Up two steps and Jason was surrounded by shining polished wood, mirrors, and muted lighting. A few minitables were scattered in the open area on one side, but the main focus was the long bar with the bottles of booze behind on mirrored shelves. There were only about a dozen people there, and he recognized a few from the wedding. He waved to Ken’s sister with her hubby and Tina and Dan from work, but headed for the end of the bar. He took a barstool and watched a few pitches in the Pirates/Brewers game while he waited for Jake, the bartender, to finish up and bring him another.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, watching the roll of scores across the bottom of the plasma screen mounted on the wall. Mets won again. That meant his beloved Braves were another game down. It was a damn sure bet they weren’t going to make it to the play-offs this year.

He was halfway through another Black Russian and well into the next inning of the Rockies/Giants game when Davey finally texted him back. He flipped open the phone to read the message: Come. Back lot.

The parking lot in the back? “Why?” he asked the phone aloud, knowing full well it wouldn’t answer. So he texted it: Why?

A moment later came the reply: Just come.

Typical Davey. No explanation, just an expectation of obedience. Had he moved his car? If so, why? No telling with Davey, of course. He followed his own rules for everything.

Sighing, Jason stood, then downed his drink and paid for it while grimacing at the onslaught of rich coffee liqueur down to his gullet. He hoped whatever Davey had in mind was worth it. He didn’t drink Black Russians often, and he preferred to savor them.

Well acquainted with the layout of the restaurant, he headed for the darker hallways that led to the restrooms. Beyond the johns was another hall that led both to the manager’s office and employees’ lockers. There was also a fire door that led to the back parking lot. Once outside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting directly overhead that cast faux moonlight in the immediate vicinity. The parking lot in back only held ten spaces, meant for kitchen staff and managers. Bart’s Beemer sat directly outside the door.

It took a moment, but Jason finally located Davey leaning against the dark shadow of his deep blue Mustang GT at the very edge of the halo of light. His white dress shirt and light-colored slacks stood out against the black background of the trees that stood beyond the pavement, as did the bright pink T-shirt of the girl pressed against him.

What the hell? Jason scowled. Was he going to have to find another way home? That little shit.

Having heard the door open, Davey waved him over with one arm while keeping the other wrapped around the girl.

Muttering to himself, Jason descended the three cement steps of the stoop and crossed the lot. He really shouldn’t begrudge his buddy finding a date. Wasn’t he hoping to do the same thing?

She was cute, too. A little under Davey’s height, which put her around five feet four or five, she had that hair that wasn’t quite brunette and wasn’t quite blonde but was kind of both, cut short, level with her rounded chin. She had a slim little body with a tight belly shown off by the way her T-shirt rode up because her arms were around Davey’s neck. When she turned to grin at Jason, he guessed she was around their age, with a bright smile and carefully plucked eyebrows. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes because it was too dark in the lot.

Jason stopped a few paces away from them and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. “What’s up?”

Davey grinned, the lenses of his thick-rimmed glasses catching a glint from the light behind Jason. “This is Tacy.”

The girl unwound her arms and turned to face Jason but kept her hip snuggled up against Davey. She extended a hand to Jason. “Stacy without the S. Hi.”

He took it, mustering a smile. Maybe she had a friend inside. “Hi.”

Her fingers slid over his palm as their hands parted, and she gave him a warm little grin that he couldn’t decipher.

Keeping his eyes on Jason, Davey rubbed her back, making her T-shirt ride up her belly a little more. With the dip of her low-rise jeans, there was a nice bit of soft flesh visible. “Tacy’s never had two guys at once. I told her we could probably accommodate her. What do you think?”

Jason blinked. Then his jaw dropped. “Huh?”

Tacy giggled, propping her back up against Davey so he could slide his arms around her from behind.

Davey wasn’t even fazed by what he’d said. “Tacy wants to do us.”

She giggled again. “Or you do me.”

One of Davey’s thumbs tucked into the waistband of her jeans, right behind the button. “Some of both.”

Jason’s gaze snagged on that thumb, his imagination filling in what was right near it. “You guys are serious?”

“Oh yeah,” Tacy assured him.

“Do I know you?”

She pulled away from Davey and closed the distance to Jason. Blue. Her eyes were blue. “Not yet.” She let that blue gaze rake him up and down before she spread her palms over his chest, slipping them underneath the lapels of his jacket to lightly press his nipples. “But we can fix that.”

He glanced over her shoulder. Davey remained where he was, arms now folded across his chest. His head was cocked to the side, shiny, straight brown hair falling to the side from the tilt of his head. That smug little grin he almost always wore was right there, challenging Jason to take up the offer.

A few months ago, Jason might not have considered it. But after what had happened with Jen this summer, he was caught. That night the five of them had shared sprung to mind. It had been sexy as hell watching the other guys fuck Jen, knowing they were watching when he was inside her himself. All too vividly he could conjure up the memory of Davey, naked and sheened with sweat as he plowed into Jen from behind. He remembered the fevered glee in Davey’s unshielded eyes when their gazes had met over Jen’s back, Davey fucking her while Jen sucked Jason’s cock. It was the single most erotic thing he could remember doing in his life.

The light in Davey’s eyes told Jason he remembered the same thing. And wanted to do it again.

Why the hell not?

His thoughts had taken mere seconds. His gaze returned to Tacy’s by the time she spoke again. “What do you say?”

He grinned down at her, setting his hands on the curve of her hips. “I’m game if you are.”

****************

Click here to visit the site’s main page for Two Man Team

Today’s my day to post Halloween fiction on Fiction with Friction.

Sexy Devil – Obsession

Warning, is graphic m/m sex.

Available in ebook from Loose Id

Available in ebook from ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

This story was one of those organic ones. I won’t say it was super-easy, because it wasn’t, but it was born out of a scene that popped into my head one day. The scene, in fact, that is depicted below.

It’s one of my “gay for you” stories, I’ll confess. What can I say? I like the dynamic.

BLURB:

Justin falls for Kevin the instant they pass each other on a sidewalk. Only, Kevin’s not gay. The higher ups at Kevin’s company are gay, however, and Kevin’s accidental meeting with Justin gives him an idea how to get around his controlling female supervisor. If he can gain access to the top men at an exclusive gay club, he might be able to finally share his ideas.

Justin instantly agrees to be his date, despite the obvious heartbreak that’s headed his way for going out with a straight man. At the club, Kevin gets a chance to meet the company owner, Victor Chen, and the man seems interested… both in his ideas and his date.

Kevin can’t deny his attraction to Justin, but he’s not gay. Right? He should step aside and let Justin have a chance to date Victor, who’s gorgeous, rich, and shares Justin’s interest in fashion. Despite his internal struggles, he really wants to explore their growing bond. Justin is certainly game, but a part of him knows they can’t have a future together…can they?

*************************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“…and then I…” Justin stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing two chatting women to split up to go around him. Ignoring their mild glares as they passed, he stared blindly over the plastic lid of his coffee cup, wondering if he’d just seen what he thought he’d seen.

Ahead, Frank kept walking a few steps before realizing he was alone. He spun, the spikes of his highlighted hair refusing to move in the mild breeze that kept the sunny street somewhat cool. “Hey?”

Justin heard him but couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge the words. He snapped around, eagerly searching for… Oh yes! The hind view of the vision of loveliness that had just passed by him. Slightly rumpled charcoal slacks loosely framed a fine little derriere, and an equally rumpled ice gray button-down dress shirt draped slim shoulders. Waved hair the color of good French Roast almost brushed said shoulders.

“Justin, what are you…?”

Barely hearing his friend, Justin raced back down the sidewalk, nearly spilling his coffee in his rush to catch up to a wet dream come to life. He almost ran over a guy on Rollerblades and just avoided getting wrapped up in a microdog’s leash, but he finally made it to the vision’s side. He reached out to wrap a hand around an arm. Nice, he thought, feeling the biceps. Slim but firm.

Said vision halted and twisted his graceful neck over and up to face Justin.

Oh. My. God! Innocently seductive brown eyes kind of focused on Justin from beneath sinfully full black lashes. Confused eyes blinked up at him, positively enchanting. Elegant and sleek, just like the rest of him. Latino somewhere in his lineage, judging by facial features and gold skin tone. There was a childlike purity in that face even though he had to be in his midtwenties, at least. Justin wanted to devour the generous lips that parted in surprise.

“I’ve just fallen in love with you,” Justin declared, cradling his coffee cup to his chest as he kept hold on the vision’s arm. “What is your name, and please tell me you’re gay?”

“Justin!” Frank caught up with him, grabbing the wrist of the hand that had a grip on the vision’s arm. Frank tugged, but Justin wouldn’t let go. “Justin, please, you’re annoying the nice man.”

Justin blinked at the dumbstruck object of his attention as the breeze puffed a lock of shiny dark hair across the man’s brow. “Nice man, please tell me your name so I know who to dream about tonight.”

“Justin!” Frank scolded, prying at his fingers.

Reluctantly, since the vision didn’t seem to be responding in kind, Justin let Frank remove his hand. But he kept eye contact.

“Please excuse him,” Frank said, yanking Justin away. “He’s not right in the head.”

“How can I be in the face of such beauty?” Justin protested, stumbling backward as Frank tugged.

Said beauty blinked slowly, his gorgeous pink lips still parted in shock.

“I work down the street at Juster’s. It’s a men’s boutique.” Justin wanted to cry. “Come find me, Prince Charming. Please!”

The vision blinked again, closed his mouth, and turned away.

Justin sobbed dramatically, watching a fine ass in shapeless slacks retreat. “There goes the love of my life.”

Frank snorted, forcibly turning Justin toward the intersection so he wouldn’t have to drag him anymore. “You’re a complete nutcase.”

Justin sighed and sipped his coffee. “I know. But you gotta go with your instincts, right?”

“Your instincts are going to get you killed one of these days.”

Justin waved his hand and avoided a group of chatting businessmen. “I’ve gotten beat up over it before. That’s nothing new.” He hummed dreamily as they stopped to wait for the light. “But he was pretty, wasn’t he?”

“He was that,” Frank admitted, pressing the Walk button.

Justin glanced back, but the vision was long gone. “Not gay, though, huh?”

“Not in the least.”

“Damn.”

* * * * *

Kevin returned to his cubicle, still bemused by what had just happened. He’d left to blow off a little steam with an afternoon walk. He certainly hadn’t expected to be hit on. By a guy, no less!

Raoul got up from his chair in the next cubicle just as Kevin sat down. Immediately Kevin was reminded of the reason he’d left. Some of his amusement died.

“She’s gone,” Raoul told him, keeping his voice low. The three people in the neighboring cubicles were all on their side and could be trusted, but beyond that was sketchy.

“Gee.” Kevin checked his watch. “Three o’clock. Must be nice.”

Stacie pushed her chair close. “She’s going to”—she made quote signs in the air with her fingers—“’work from home.’“

All three of them snorted at that.

Kevin shook his head. “The woman never listens.” Staring blankly at his monitor, he balled his fists. “I know we could get that second installation if she’d just present the idea to either Greg or Victor.”

“Fat chance. She’s way too scared of how it went last time.”

Kevin waved a hand in the air. “We’ve fixed those problems. We’ve gone way beyond that. Besides, if we just talked to the customer…”

“Please,” Stacie scoffed, “remember what happened the last time she talked to a customer?”

Snarling soundlessly, Kevin slumped back his chair.

Raoul leaned on the low cubicle wall and shrugged. “What can we do?”

Kevin grimaced. “Unless we can get to Greg—”

“Which we can’t.”

“—or Victor—”

“Yeah, right.”

“—nothing.”

Stacie patted his shoulder before wheeling back to her keyboard.

Raoul gave him a sharp look and glanced at the drawers of Kevin’s desk. He raised his brows, then shrugged, before disappearing around the corner into his own little space.

Kevin knew what the look was for.

He stared at the second drawer of his metallic desk. Inside was the possible answer to their problems, but only if he had the balls to go through with it. No one else does. It was an invitation that a friend had given him to an exclusive party at a popular local club. Kevin was not into the clubbing scene, but it was a sure bet that at least two of the three men Kevin needed to talk to would be there. The club was high-class and rumored to be the place. For homosexuals. Which both Greg Hanson and Victor Chen were.

Kevin Fuller, however, was not.

Kevin blinked, the coincidence crashing into him. He wanted to go to a gay club. He’d just been hit on by an obviously gay guy. Kismet?

**********************

Click here to visit the site’s main page for Just For You

As you might guess from the cover, Off the Beaten Path centers on a camping trip. Well, okay, besides the double whammy of sexy man chest, it involves camping! To be more precise, Travis and Kyle are thrown together on what’s called a “volunteer vacation” at a wilderness state park. A volunteer vacation can be enjoyed in a variety of ways. Here are some opportunities begging to be taken advantage of:

** Constructing an inner city playground from recycled goods.
** Building or maintaining pedestrian and bike trails on former railroad beds.
** Wilderness trail maintenance at state and national parks.
** Working for a day at a local soup kitchen or food bank.
** Mentoring at-risk youth enrolled in summer programs.
** Planting trees with the Nature Conservancy.
** Building houses with Habitat for Humanity.

And that’s just a few! As you can see from the above list, volunteer vacations can range from day trip to out-of-town adventure, urban outing to wilderness escape. When volunteering at state and national parks, participants can receive a discount on guest fees with meals, housing, and/or camping equipment provided. (Volunteers are also often granted access to parts of the park that are closed to the public!) If you’re a high school student planning for college, or a college student seeking an internship, a volunteer vacation can count toward service points. Best of all, a volunteer vacation can be enjoyed by friends, families, youth organizations, church groups, etc, with crew size numbering from a few to several members depending on the task at hand.

Or as Kyle’s friend Mac explains to Travis, a volunteer vacation is “a nice alternative to the usual Vegas trip or overpriced ocean cruise, plus you do something that helps others.” If you’re looking to enjoy an affordable vacation that’s a little different, and serving a worthwhile purpose while you’re at it, you may want to consider one of the volunteer variety! Simply Google “volunteer vacation” to learn more!

Back to Travis and Kyle, I’ll leave you with the blurb and a teaser from their own excursion off the beaten path:

**********

BLURB:

Travis Bell is openly gay to family and friends, but as a college athlete, he chooses not to be defined by his sexuality. When he covers for a friend’s misdeed, he’s forced to negotiate his future without losing his lacrosse scholarship.

The last thing he plans on is a “volunteer vacation” in the remote wilderness with Omega Beta Pi, aka Off the Beaten Path, a fraternity devoted to gay rights and environmental causes. Worse, Travis must share a tent with Kyle, an opinionated activist who also happens to be the hottest guy Travis has ever met.

A proud activist, Kyle Schafer disapproves of Travis’s indifference toward issues affecting the environment and gay community. To his even greater annoyance, Kyle finds himself attracted to his shallow tentmate on a purely physical level. Travis goes against everything Kyle believes in, but that doesn’t dampen the chemistry that sparks between them.

In a battle of wits and libido, Travis and Kyle venture into the uncharted territory of their deepest desires… and learn the path less traveled can lead straight to the heart.

**********

EXCERPT — Copyright 2008 by Katrina Strauss
Coming July 28th from Loose Id at:
http://www.loose-id.com/prod-Off_the_Beaten_Path-982.aspx

Kyle wiped the sweat from his brow, tucking the strands that loosed from his ponytail behind his ear. He’d slipped out of his flannel overshirt at some point and tied it around his waist above his shorts, his T-shirt clinging to him in spite of the moderate eighty-degree temperature.

Leaning on the rake with one arm, he reached out and accepted a bottle of water from Travis. The fact that they both wore work gloves did little to insulate the jolt of current that sparked between them when their fingers brushed. Thoughts of how things might have gone in the tent that morning inadvertently played through Kyle’s mind again.

Taking a sip, he stole a glimpse as Travis bent over to get another bottle from the small cooler they’d brought along. He tried not to stare as Travis tilted his head back and took a hearty swig of water. The other man’s Adam’s apple bobbed, sweat dripping down the corded sinews of his throat, every muscle of his torso clearly outlined through the stretched cotton of the white tank top. His six-pack abs crunched in where he’d followed Kyle’s lead and knotted his hoodie at the waist.

With a satisfied sigh, Travis pulled the bottle away from his lips, giving them a lick before pouring the remaining water over his head. Eyes closed, he shook his head, slinging the water from his ruffled hair.

Kyle nearly fell over as the rake gave under his weight. Catching himself, he turned away and set back to work. Between the athlete’s stamina and Kyle’s determination not to be outdone, they’d hacked away several feet of overgrown vegetation in the past two hours. They’d done such an effective job, Lance had instructed Kyle and Travis to pick their way a quarter of a mile up the path, then work their way back down to the remaining team.

Kyle had initially experienced discomfort at being alone with Travis for the first time since their awkward awakening in the tent that morning, but they’d soon fallen into comfortable, silent tandem as they worked side by side, their movements in rhythm to the buzz of locusts from the trees. Kyle couldn’t help but notice that so long as they weren’t talking, they made a pretty good team. He supposed that if they were going to get along, however, small talk was inevitable.

He just wished he could form a coherent sentence whenever Travis’s well-sculpted body filled his view.

**********

Talk about battling the summer heat, eh? Thanks again to Jet for having me today! You may now return to your regularly scheduled blog. I can’t wait to learn more about Jet’s next Heaven Sent installment, Revelations, which also releases July 28th. Something tells me we’re due for a scorcher!

Pairing: m/m/f

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

A woman in Heaven Sent?! Well, yeah, she’s been with them the entire time. Gretchen deserves her HEA!

BLURB:

For years, Gretchen’s main objective has been taking care of the boys of Heaven Sent. When her boys decide to take a hiatus, she decides to do the same.

Before she can begin her summer off, Gretchen has one last public commitment. There, she meets tall, mysterious, and wickedly handsome Archer Thanos. Archer’s company has a video game based on Heaven Sent and he’s has been trying to get in touch with her to discuss it. Their first meeting quickly turns into a discussion of another type … in a nearby hotel room, sending Gretchen headlong into a whirlwind affair she hadn’t anticipated.

Only, someone isn’t exactly thrilled about Gretchen and Archer’s romance. Gretchen’s adorable new assistant, Owen, has been pining for his boss since he started working for her but he hasn’t had the courage to assert himself and tell her he wants her. As a result, Gretchen is completely blind to his feelings for her. And after meeting Archer, Owen knows he has no chance against the handsome devil. His own attraction to the older man is instant and overwhelming, the bisexual urges he hasn’t divulged to Gretchen fully awakening.

Owen thinks he’s not enough for Gretchen. Gretchen thinks Owen is far too young for her. Archer thinks they’re both ridiculous. He knows the three of them are just right for each other, if they can survive the revelations.

*****************************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“Palm Springs?”

Owen stared at his monitor. “Yeah.”

Jane sighed and perched on the far edge of his desk. “And she just met him this last week?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. What a life.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh God, would you stop mooning already?”

Scowling, he checked that the office door was closed. “Be a little louder, why don’t you?”

She reached up to smooth a hand over her short, straight black hair. “Oh, no one’s going to hear. Just about everyone’s gone home.”

He turned back to his monitor and tried to ignore her.

He’d known it wouldn’t work. She sat up further on his desk, leaning toward him. “Owen, you know you don’t have a chance with her, right?”

At times like this, he deeply regretted confiding in Jane. But they’d become good friends in the past few months, and he’d needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood. All his other friends were back in Atlanta, and they were too far removed from the business to get it. The only other person was his cousin Ellen. She was way too close to Gretchen for him to tell her anything.

When he didn’t answer her, Jane shook his shoulder.

“Hey.” He scowled up at her.

Her blue eyes narrowed. “She spends most of her time with rockstars, Owen. Gorgeous ones. She eats up handsome, successful men for lunch. She’s got guys like this Archer taking her away on expensive weekends. What could you possibly offer her other than your boyish charm?”

He gave her a mocking sweet smile. “Gee, thanks.”

She smoothed a hand over his hair. “I’m just trying to help you, honey. Mooning over the boss lady is just going to keep you distracted when a girl you can have and should be with comes along.”

He snatched his head away. Women were always petting him, he was used to it, but that didn’t stop it from being annoying when he was peeved. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s talk about this Saturday.” She clapped her hands like a giddy schoolgirl. “I’ll have to go out shopping for a new dress. You want to come with?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just what I want to do.”

She grimaced. “You know, darling, I have to say that you’re the strangest gay man I’ve ever met.”

That demanded that he give her the look. “I think you’d have to call me bisexual. I like girls too, remember.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s not so outlandish since you work for Heaven Sent after all. Well, once removed.”

Was she trying to depress him more? “Don’t you have a job to do?”

She batted her heavily mascaraed eyes at him, undeterred. “Bored with my company already?”

“Just the topic of conversation.”

“Fine.” She jumped off his desk and patted the folders she’d left in his inbox. “Make sure she sees those. There’s a new director whose work she should look at.”

“Will do.”

“See you later. We’ll make shopping plans.” Giggling at his scowl, she opened the door and left.

Once the door had clicked shut after her, he gave up the pretense of working. Staring morosely at his desk blotter, he began his favorite task since Monday: trying to figure out a way to make Gretchen not go away with this Archer creep for the weekend. So far, no dice. He wasn’t going to do anything drastic, and no one from Heaven Sent had jumped in to demand her attention. The closest was when Chris Faith called for her, but he’d ended up calling her cell and getting his answer. Meantime, he’d had to hear about all her preparations for the trip. He’d even made calls to reserve a private table at a very chic restaurant for her and Archer.

Depressed, he tried to make himself see things a different way. This was a new thing. She hadn’t dated in a long time. She’d barely talked about Archer as more than a sex toy. Maybe that’s all it was. Sex. Still not something Owen wanted to dwell on, but if it was just sex, that meant it would likely blow over soon. He’d heard about her so-called relationships in the past. Nothing that lasted very long. Her career always got in the way. Maybe all Owen had to do was tough it out for a month or so; then she’d get sick of this guy and move on. Yeah, that was a better slant on it.

But it didn’t change the fact that she was going away to get fucked, repeatedly, by this Archer guy.

What did this bozo look like anyway? Owen turned toward his computer and brought up a Web browser. He’d just typed the man’s name in the image browser when a knock sounded. He had enough time to switch windows so that his e-mail was in front before he turned to greet the newcomer.

Whoa. The guy who walked in was movie-star gorgeous. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. His golden brown skin set off jet-black hair and matching brows that matched a classy, trimmed Vandyke beard. He wore a casual burgundy shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of chest hair and black slacks over endless legs.

Owen wasn’t sure his own legs would support him if he stood, so he just turned toward the vision. “Hello. May I help you?”

“This is Gretchen Hobbes’s office?”

“Yes. I’m Owen, Ms. Hobbes’s assistant.”

The man stopped in front of his desk and held out his hand. “Owen. Nice to meet you. My name is Archer Thanos.”

Owen’s hand was folded in a warm grip before the name was spoken. He was unable to hide his jump of surprise. “A-archer Thanos?”

“That’s me.”

“I, uh, Gretchen’s told me about you. She said you…” He dropped his gaze to the package in the man’s hand, only to realize that his own hand was still held. He blinked, confused and entranced by the sight of his light tan in contrast to the deep gold-brown of this man’s skin. Yum. He tugged his fingers away so he could reach for the package. The angle made sure that he could check out the man’s other package, a slight bulge in the loose slacks. Yum. “She said you’d be dropping something off.”

Archer held the thick envelope up, just out of Owen’s reach. “Yes. This. It’s a prospectus for a video game.” That smile was just killer. Teeth blinding white in all that darkness. “You play?”

“Huh?”

“Do you game?”

“I’ve, uh, some, but I’m not… Well, that is. Not much.”

The gorgeous man twisted to the side so he could hitch his ass up on the edge of Owen’s desk. He leaned companionably toward Owen as he set the envelope down on the desk blotter. “If you’re interested, I’d be happy to send you some samples.” Hands now free, he dipped two fingers into his chest pocket to extract a slim metal business-card case. A gold ring flashed on his finger as he flipped the case open and extracted a card.

Not until the card was hovering before him, held by two longer fingers, did Owen realize he’d just been watching the man move. Instinctively, he reached for the card. “Oh, I… There’s no reason to give me games. I mean, I wouldn’t be making a decision about this.” Jeez, Owen, get a grip! He’d handled plenty of other people with far more class than this. Why did this man have him rattled? Because this guy’s been inside Gretchen. Strangely, with said man sitting before him, the thought turned him on far more than it pissed him off.

“Oh no, my pleasure. No strings attached. Gretchen made that one perfectly clear this past weekend.”

Owen swallowed, dropping his gaze as he took exaggerated care in setting the man’s card down on top of the folder that was already there. “And you’ll be seeing her this weekend as well.” He heard the words before he could take them back.

“She told you about that, did she?”

“She tells me everything.”

When there was too much silence, he braved a glance up. Another speculative look pointed at him. He seemed to be getting a heck of a lot of those lately. This one, however, made his guts quiver into jelly. “As well she should.”

Owen stared into deep brown eyes, getting lost in the silent heat. He didn’t know what to say, and the man didn’t seem in a hurry to leave or break the silence. Finally, Owen cracked. “Actually, Mr. Thanos…”

“Please. Call me Archer.”

Owen nodded as he turned toward his monitor. “Archer. Gretchen wasn’t sure where you’d be going this weekend. Could you give me a location, just in case?”

The man amiably supplied not only the name of the resort, he pulled out his iPhone and forwarded the reservation information to Owen right on the spot. “Will you need anything else?”

Owen shook his head, trying to make his fingers stop trembling. “No. I think that’s more than enough. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

He needed to be polite. Garnering his courage, Owen turned back and spread his hand over the folder on the desk. “I’ll make sure she gets that.”

“Thank you. Please call if you need any more information. And I mean it about the games. Take a look at our Web site. Any games you want, they’re yours for the asking.” He leaned forward on the desk, fingers steepled to support his weight. “You call me personally.”

Owen stared at his fingers, far too frightened of what might happen if he got lost in that smoldering gaze again. He might just have to throw himself at the man. “Thank you.”

“Well, then. I’ll see you later. Owen.”

Owen nodded and smiled, managing to raise his gaze to the man’s collarbone. It was high enough for him to see the smirk. No shit, you’re acting like a simpering schmuck. But it was the best he could manage.

Once Archer left, Owen just sat there, staring at the door, relearning how to breathe. The man was…ungh. No wonder Gretchen was so taken. Owen was afraid he was going to have to make use of the private bathroom in Gretchen’s office unless he could get control of the hard-on in his pants. He sat back and kept breathing until he brought his heart and groin under control enough to reach over to his keyboard to bring up the image search that he’d started before the man himself had come through the door.

“There’s no way,” he whispered, gazing at a smiling photograph of the man. “There’s no way you’ve got a chance in hell against this guy.”

*********************

Click here for the site’s main page on Heaven Sent: Revelations

New freebie fiction up at Fiction with Friction

Baseball Dad