Pairing: m/m

Available soon from Loose Id

BLURB

Coming soon

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© 2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

He followed Izzy up the porch and into the darkened house but felt oddly reluctant to head to his room. He’d been having a good time with Izzy.

“Want a snack?” Izzy stood, just a silhouette in the entrance to the kitchen, backlit by the moonlight from the bay window.

Given an excuse, Rabin decided it was just that. “Nah. I think I’m just going to head on up to bed.” Bed. The word had a charge to it that made him look away. Even if he was feeling attraction — and that’s probably what it was, strangely enough — he wasn’t going to do anything about it. It was a weird night. One that should end before anything happened. “’Night.”

“’Night.”

Izzy didn’t move as Rabin headed up the stairs. It was a relief to walk into the darkness of the hallway. Rabin walked into his room, closed the door, and didn’t bother with a light. There was enough moonlight coming through the open window to see just fine. Besides, the chancy dark went with the feeling that he was missing something. It wasn’t even sex. It was… He shook his head, unable to come up with anything. Maybe he should head down to Brent’s studio and play for a while. Brent had told him he was welcome, and the guitar often helped him to make sense of his thoughts — or at least calm them. Yeah, do that.

But first, he needed to change. The leather pants and boots were stylish but not all that comfortable. His shirt was off, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks when the knock sounded at the door. He froze.

“Rabin?”

Don’t answer. Stupid. Izzy knew he was there. “Yeah?”

Without waiting permission, Izzy opened the door, a ghostly blue figure draped in the shadows that were his loose hair and dark jeans. His shoes were gone. He stared at Rabin, expression blank, unreadable.

“What’s up?”

Izzy approached, and Rabin had to force himself to remain seated, torn between equally strong desires to stand up and flee, or stand up and reach for the smaller man.

Izzy stopped at his knees and tried a smile. Long, thick fringe mostly hid his eyes. “Thank you for tonight.”

Rabin summoned a smile back for him. Nothing out of the ordinary here, nope. “You’re welcome.”

Izzy searched his face — for what, Rabin tried not to know. “Rabin, I…”

Rabin frowned, forcing his gaze from Izzy’s. “Look, Iz, we should call it a night.” He’d stay in his room; he’d go to sleep and not go downstairs. He’d do that as soon as Izzy left.

“You’re right.” A palm cupped Rabin’s jaw. “You’re right.”

Startled by the touch, Rabin tilted his face back up. Izzy was right there, swooping down like a falcon catching a meal. Lips. Soft lips. Eager lips. Pressed against his own. At first, Rabin’s eyes stayed open in shock, but the blurred sight of Izzy’s long eyelashes caressing the soft ridges of his cheeks was too much to focus on when sensation ruled. He opened instinctively, his tongue seeking more. With a soft, happy moan, Izzy invited him in, tongue caressing tongue to coax Rabin to explore. So sweet. Rabin forgot he was kissing a guy and just concentrated on the mouth that easily melded with his. When Izzy straddled his lap, it was only natural to take hold of slim hips to pull that warm, solid body close. He fit so well, his slight weight perfect. Rabin slid one hand around back, teasing up the shirt hem to caress soft skin, encouraging gorgeous little moans he could barely hear. Fingers tightened in his hair, that little bit of pain egging him on to tilt his head and open wider. His blood heated with a fine tremor of pleasure.

Slowly, as the kiss calmed, proper brainwave function reasserted itself. Rabin opened his eyes and tilted his head back, but not far enough to lose the little nips and licks Izzy gave his lips. Rabin’s cock was rock hard and uncomfortable in the leather pants, and Izzy’s body pressed warm and willing against him didn’t help matters any. “Wait.”

Izzy didn’t stop, his fingers warm against either side of Rabin’s neck. His hips rocked forward.

Rabin dug his fingers into Izzy’s waist and turned his head. “Wait.”

“No no no.” Izzy’s breath caressed his lips, fingers tight on his skull behind his ears. “Don’t think. Please…just…” They were kissing again. God, it was fantastic. How could Izzy taste so good?

Wait. “Izzy, no. This is –”

“This is fine.” Tender kisses along his jaw. “It’s okay.”

“No. I’m not –”

“It’s fine. I promise. Just this — no promises, no expectations, I swear.” Finally dark eyes focused on his from inches away, pleading. Izzy was trembling — not a lot, but when he was pressed this close, Rabin could feel it. “I need to be close to…someone tonight. And I think you do too.”

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Click here to keep up to date on Indigo Knights: Squire

Available in ebook from Loose Id

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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?

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©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

Pairing: m/m

Available in ebook at Loose Id

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BLURB:

Rynn made a mistake in taking the drug hextasy with his fiancée. It was supposed to be the ultimate sexual high, except that you have to sleep with the one you desire most. If you don’t, your body won’t be satisfied and you’ll die. Rynn lived, Lynnette didn’t, and now her parents want someone to pay. Either luck or Surseine, the god of justice Himself, takes pity on Rynn by putting his trial in front of one of His judges. Sursei are graced by the god they represent with the power to see truth and Sursei Shasertai finds Rynn innocent of murder.

But the drug is still out there and Shasertai and the people who travel with him are determined to root out the drug lord responsible for its existence. Shas invites Rynn to join them. He goes willingly, fascinated by the judge who gave him a second chance at life.

Rynn might be innocent and straight, but Shas isn’t. He’s gay, happily so, and very much drawn to the farm boy whose simple innocence is a balm to one who can hear through the lies. What he hears is that Rynn’s not gay, so he vows not to get involved. Until another drug, another time, gets in the way…and then he and Rynn will have to deal with the each other’s truths and their growing attraction.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices.

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©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Rynn followed Sheriff Trent into the lobby of a swank hotel in downtown Taft. It was located in the high-rent district, not far from the passenger train station. A farm boy like him had no business in a place with fine woven rugs over tightly tiled floors. Heck, there were even gaslights lining the sweeping staircase to the right, and an elevator was displayed prominently across the lobby from the double front doors. The sheriff led him right up to the elevator door and pushed the button. Rynn stared at the etched metal doors and the shiny copper decorations around the edges, slightly alarmed by the muted sound of machinery clanking behind them.

“Stop scratching.”

Rynn blinked at the older man, then looked down to find his blunt nails digging through the thick wool of his clean, borrowed trousers into the meat of his thigh. “Oh. Sorry.” Balling that hand into a fist, he tucked both hands behind his back. At least the sheriff had let him ditch the jacket and tie. Now he just had to concentrate on not getting the white shirt dirty.

“Don’t be nervous.”

Rynn flinched at a dinging sound and couldn’t help but gape a little as the metal doors slid open to reveal a shiny little blue-carpeted compartment. A boy dressed in a uniform of a blue to match the carpet stood off to one side, holding open the doors. Warily, Rynn followed the sheriff into the box.

“What floor, sir?” asked the boy as they turned to face the door.

“Six,” Trent answered.

The boy nodded and pulled a lever. Silently, the metal doors shut them in. Rynn clutched at a handrail set into the back wall when the floor beneath his feet jounced.

“Rynn.”

He blinked at the sheriff’s smile.

“It’ll be all right, boy.”

Rynn nodded. Trying not to realize that they were rising in the air, he focused on something else. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Sheriff Trent shrugged, the leather of his brown duster creaking loudly in the cramped space. “Don’t think it matters. He’s a man of the law. Hell, being sursei, he is the law. He’s agreed to take you at least as far as Vinton. It’s a lumber town. Young man your size should be able to find a job there easy enough. I’m sending references, and he’s agreed to vouch for your innocence.”

“Really?”

Again the sheriff smiled, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Rynn. I know it, and the sursei proved it. It’s time to get on with your life away from the Dotalls. Just do me a favor and think before you do something like this in the future, huh?”

Rynn swallowed over a sudden lump in his throat, then jumped again at the sound of another ding. “Sixth floor,” announced the kid in the uniform as the compartment settled to a halt. He pulled another lever, and the doors slid back open.

Rynn was glad to step out of the elevator and follow the sheriff down the hall.

The elevator doors had barely closed when a feminine shriek sounded ahead of them. Both he and Sheriff Trent froze, staring at each other. Then they heard the thunk of a heavy piece of furniture and the clatter of what sounded like chairs. As one, they turned and sprinted toward the sounds, urged on by another shout—male this time—and another female cry.

The sheriff reached the appropriate door first, his pistol out of its holster, pointed up at the ceiling. He pulled Rynn behind him, staying at the side of the doorway as he reached in to knock. “Sursei, it’s the sheriff. Is everything all right in there?”

All sound within stopped.

“Judge?”

“Just a moment,” the female voice called. A mutter of voices preceded the clatter of the door’s lock just before it was yanked wide open. On the other side stood the blonde woman from the courtroom. At least, Rynn was pretty sure it was she. The face was the same, even if it was now partly covered by the fallen half of what might have once been a neatly pinned hairdo. Holding the doorknob, she propped the other hand on the hip of her lemon yellow skirt. The ruffles at the neck and wrists of her white blouse looked mussed; the trailing ends of a black ribbon that probably should have circled her neck dangled over her breasts.

“Hello, sheriff,” she greeted, two bright dots of color pinkening her cheeks.

“Miss Kogin.” Rynn couldn’t see his face, but the older man nodded. He didn’t put away his gun. “Is everything all right?”

She eyed the weapon, or tried. With an irritated huff, she blew at the curls that tried to blind her left eye. “Oh, we’re fine.” She glared over her shoulder. “Shas is just cheating again.”

“That would be impossible,” came a calm reply behind her.

Rolling her eyes, she stepped back. “Please, come in. Maybe you can talk some sense into them.”

The sheriff hesitated, but then he took a few cautious steps into the room. Rynn stayed right behind him.

Behind the woman, two men faced each other over a space that had clearly recently contained the card table that now lay on its side, out of their way. The tense positions in which they stood told Rynn that a fight was about to break out. To his surprise, one of the combatants was the sursein judge.

The delicate, almost feminine man who had tried Rynn’s case just a few hours previous certainly looked more masculine now, if no less gorgeous. His violet robes were replaced with snug, worn jeans tucked into well-made, black suede, knee-high boots. The toned muscles of his shoulders and arms were on display thanks to his sleeveless black top, and as it was formfitting, it also showed what looked to be a honed chest. The white-gold hair that had been braided down his back before was now loose, flowing in gentle waves over his shoulders. Two long locks from his temples were drawn back and banded with a tie at the nape of his neck, the only effort made to tame the slippery fall of hair. His face remained in profile since he wouldn’t take his eyes off the other man, but that just showed off a flawless, sharply etched profile. Expressionless, he looked perfectly capable of snatching the gun from where it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back and firing before the man staring at him could do the same.

The man across from him scowled. Although good-looking, he could not compare to the judge’s delicate beauty. A trim, dark beard lined his square jaw, with a matching mustache shadowing a wide, thin-lipped mouth. Deep-set blue eyes were shadowed by thick black eyebrows. He was a little taller and a little wider than the judge, but he had a slim quality that the bulk of his dark blue jacket couldn’t hide. More coyote than bear. A grin hovered at the edges of his mouth. His fingers hovered over the pistol seated in a holster strapped to his thigh, at least three gold rings glinting in the ample light provided by kerosene lamps.

“Gentlemen?” the sheriff asked, stopping just close enough to the men that he could keep them both in his sights. His gun he kept out but pointed toward the faded blue carpet beneath his boots. The tone in his voice was the one Rynn had heard a number of times in the jailhouse. The one he used to command instant respect.

The sursei raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t budge. “Good evening, sheriff.” That voice. Smooth as fresh-strained cream.

Rynn edged into the room behind the sheriff, gaze darting around to see if he could spot a possible weapon in case Sheriff Trent needed help. That’s when he spotted a third man, sitting on an easy chair in the corner, feet propped on a matching footstool, watching with a small smile. It was the judge’s bodyguard from earlier, his bulk nearly overfilling the chair. He had his big hands laced behind his bald head, and his dark eyes twinkled as he seemed to enjoy the show.

Now Rynn was quite confused.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” The pretty young woman muttered angrily to herself as she stepped right up between the sursei and his opponent. “Would you stop?”

At her presence, the judge and the other man relaxed a bit, although their eyes remained locked.

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to shove back the hair that hung in her face. “Please, Shas, we have guests.” When neither moved, she glanced beyond the judge at the seated bodyguard. “Harmon!”

Chuckling, the bodyguard unfolded himself from the chair and strolled toward the center of the room. Rynn and the bodyguard were about the same size, although the bodyguard was probably a little broader than he was. Certainly he was older and held himself like the older guardsmen Rynn had known during training, wearing his experience like a badge. He, too, stepped between the two combatants, facing the man in the blue jacket. “Colton, why don’t you and me go in the other room for a minute?” Not waiting for an answer, he set one beefy hand on the man’s right arm, effectively ruining his chances at any kind of a good shot.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and then he shook his head and backed down. “You’re a cheat, Shas.”

The judge tossed his head with a laugh. Instantly, the tension in the room dissipated. “Again, I assure you, that is quite impossible.”

The bodyguard led the other man toward an open doorway at the far end of the room, and finally the judge turned to face Rynn and the sheriff.

Purple eyes. That one detail jumped out at Rynn as the judge stepped toward them. It wasn’t the eerie total color with no whites or pupils that he’d seen earlier in court. The judge’s eyes were now quite normal-looking except for the vivid amethyst that Rynn had never seen on anyone else. They were like perfectly round gemstones set in red-veined white marble. The strange color, though, seemed to go with the judge’s light complexion. Did all sursei have purple eyes, or was this one special?

Pistol holstered, Sheriff Trent snatched off his hat and exchanged greetings and a handshake with the judge. Trent had met with him earlier about Rynn, but he was clearly not very comfortable in the judge’s presence. Then the judge turned to extend his hand to Rynn. A thick gold ring glittered on his middle finger, matching two thinner bands on his thumb and little finger. A full head shorter than Rynn, he had to tilt his head up to get a good look at Rynn’s face. “We’ve not been formally introduced. I’m Shasertai Kogin.”

“Rynnis Lort.”

“Yes, you are.” The judge folded his free hand over their entwined hands. “Forgive me. I know, technically speaking, I’ve seen you, but my experiences while in Surseine’s trance are nothing compared to when out of it. I see many things clearly, but others”—he shook his head as his gaze raked down, then back up, Rynn’s chest—“I miss entirely.”

Rynn almost felt that gaze, and it made him want to scratch again. “It’s an honor to meet you, sursei.”

The judge returned to studying his face and didn’t let go of his hand. Then a small smile curled up the corners of his full-lipped mouth. “Truth preserve me, you are a fine-looking man, aren’t you?”

Appearing beside him, the woman slapped the judge’s arm. “Shas!”

Rynn’s eyes went wide when the judge raised the hand not linked with Rynn’s to draw his fingers down the beard on the taller man’s jaw. “Such rugged, handsome features.”

“Shas!”

Surprisingly strong fingers gripped the tip of Rynn’s chin, nudging his face sideways to reveal his profile. “Sheriff, is there a secret about the farms out here that I should know about?”

The woman grabbed Shasertai’s wrist and tugged his hand away. “Stop that.”

He gave her a wide-eyed look, full of false innocence. “You don’t think so?” He faced Rynn again and winked. “She thinks you’re good-looking too.”

She threw her hands in the air, rustling her skirts. “Honestly.”

The judge chuckled a little. He took one more perusal of Rynn’s face and then heaved a sigh. He released Rynn’s hand slowly, letting his fingers trail first over Rynn’s palm, then under his fingers, sending thrilling little tendrils of sensation up Rynn’s arm. “But I do recall some mention of a woman in today’s trial. A fiancée.” He cocked his head to the side, some of that silky white-gold hair spilling over his chest. “I realize you prefer sex with women, but have you tried sex with a man?”

“Shasertai!” the woman all but screeched.

For his part, Rynn could only gape. What was the man talking about? What was going on?

The bodyguard had returned to right the card table. The bearded gunman stood watching the judge size up Rynn, his expression unreadable.

The sheriff reached over to grip Rynn’s arm. “Excuse me, sursei. When we spoke earlier, I didn’t mean for you to think I was offering Rynn’s…uh, services.”

The judge’s eyes closed partway, his half smile making things low in Rynn’s belly flip. A man just shouldn’t be that pretty. It was confusing. “I’m well aware of that, sheriff. I know exactly why you asked for my help. Help I’m still willing to give, regardless of Mr. Lort’s sexual preferences.” Still smiling, he turned away, speaking over his bare shoulder. “But you can’t blame me for trying.”

The woman inserted herself into Rynn’s view of Shasertai’s retreating back, blocking the sight of slim, gently swaying hips. “I’m so sorry,” she said, taking Rynn’s hand in one of hers and the sheriff’s in the other. “My brother has a warped sense of humor.” Sometime during Shasertai’s introduction, she’d taken the pins out of her fallen hairdo and banded the long white-gold locks into a simple ponytail down her back. With her face exposed and the color of her hair, Rynn could easily see the resemblance between her and the sursei. She had the same delicate bone structure and pale features, but her eyes were a rich royal blue. Just as pretty, but the judge was more blatantly so. Why was that? To Rynn, she smiled as she tugged him and Trent farther into the room. “My name is Yolan Kogin. I’m my brother’s clerk and personal assistant.”

“Keeper.” Shasertai’s murmur carried across the room even though his back was to them, his attention on pouring amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a delicate matching glass.

She ignored him. “May we offer either of you a drink?”

Shasertai turned, propping his bottom against the edge of the drink cabinet. “I’m told it’s the finest brandy in town.” His gaze flicked over to the men now kneeling beside the table to gather scattered cards. The bearded one glanced up and caught him watching, which only made the judge smile.

“No, thank you,” said the sheriff, shifting so his overcoat creaked. “I’m still on duty. I just came to introduce Rynn and make sure everything was settled.”

One bare arm crossed over his middle, the other elbow propped on it, Shasertai brought his glass to his lips, a wicked look raking over Rynn again. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”

“Shas, please.” Yolan sighed. Again she spoke to Rynn, patting his arm. “We understand you might be in some danger due to this afternoon’s ruling?”

Rynn realized now that he was having a tough time keeping his eyes off the judge. Knowing that was rude, he made himself face Yolan. “Well, I don’t know about that, ma’am…”

“As I told you this afternoon, Paulson Dotall owns a large chunk of this town and the surrounding area.” The sheriff kept his attention on Yolan. “There are many powerful men in these parts whose livelihoods depend on him. If he blacklists Rynn, he’ll have no chance of finding a job anywhere in the county.”

Rynn frowned. Things were moving so fast. This morning, he’d been pretty sure he might be hanged before the week was up. Now he was free, but it looked like he was banished from the only home he’d ever known. Wasn’t losing Lynnette enough?

Yolan nodded. “That’s an understandable concern, sheriff. Quite understandable. We’re glad to offer to escort Mr. Lort to a more amenable area.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” Sheriff Trent fiddled with the brim of his hat. “They’re not all bad men, ma’am. But you know what money does to people.”

“Yes. Indeed.” She smiled at Rynn. “Well, we’ve agreed to escort you at least as far as Vinton. You’ll stay with us here tonight; then we’ll leave in the morning by train. Most of the staff are with the coach right now, just the four of us here in the hotel.” She waved a hand to indicate the bodyguard. “That’s Harmon, Shasertai’s bodyguard. You’ll bunk with him. And this”—she indicated the other man—“is Marshal Colton Garrah. He and his four deputies travel with us.”

Shasertai chuckled. “My dear companion.”

Colton stood, glaring at him.

Shasertai fluttered his eyelids in a ridiculously feminine manner.

Colton shook his head and then turned to nod at the sheriff, suggesting they had met. Rynn also nodded in response to the man’s silent greeting.

Yolan made a curt hand gesture toward her brother, who simply rolled his eyes and turned to splash brandy into a second rounded glass.

“Yes, well.” Yolan smiled at Rynn as Colton bent to help Harmon right the table. “I think that’s it, then.”

Rynn’s head was spinning, his eyes on the man in the dark jacket with the gun at his hip. Companion. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Together with the judge’s appraisal of him, it suggested that they were together. As a couple. He knew it was true there were men who preferred sexual relationships with other men, but he’d never met any.

“Sheriff, I’m sure you have other things to do. If you’ll give me your letter of reference for Mr. Lort, I think you can go.” Yolan held out her hand.

Sheriff Trent looked up at Rynn, searching. “Well, I…?”

“Or did you have luggage, Mr. Lort? We can retrieve that in the morning, or you can have it sent to the train station. Not to worry about expenses. We’re well supplied to handle one more for such a short trip. Although, if you’d like to supply a stipend for Mr. Lort, sheriff, I can deposit it into the bank before we leave, then withdraw it when we reach Vinton.”

Trent glanced at her, at the judge, then back at Rynn. “I just want to make sure Rynn’s all right with this.”

She stared at the sheriff for a moment, and then her eyes went cold. “Oh. I see.”

The judge’s warm chuckle was at odds with her chilly tone. A drink in each hand, he stepped up behind her, proving that he was a bare inch taller than she. He regarded both men over her shoulder. “Sheriff, I assure you that your young friend will be quite safe with us.” That unsettling violet gaze settled on Rynn. “No one will force him into anything against his will. You have my word.”

“I appreciate that, sursei.” The sheriff’s voice was soft, almost apologetic. “And of course I trust the word of a sursein judge. But it’s Rynn’s decision.”

Rynn tore his gaze from compelling purple eyes to look at the sheriff. The man had been nothing but good to him in the past month or so, despite all that had happened. “I…don’t know what to do.” His heart said to go, to leave all the ugliness behind, but at the same time, this town was the only home he’d ever known.

Sheriff Trent reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “I know. It’s hard. But I think you should go. You’ll have a better chance at a good life outside of this town, away from all the memories.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Ain’t nothing keeping you here with Lynny gone.”

Rynn shut his eyes over tears that threatened. He’d gotten good at not crying, though, somewhere over the last week. Lynny would have told him not to. Lynny would have wanted him to get out of the county she considered hideous and backward. She would have jumped at the chance he was being given and not had a second thought. He nodded and opened his eyes. “Okay. Thank you, sheriff.”

Trent patted his arm and gave him a curt nod. “You’re welcome, son.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to Yolan. “Here’s that letter for Rynn.”

“Excellent.” Her smile was back as she drew him aside. “Is there anything else…?”

Rynn missed what else she might have been saying to the sheriff. Without her there, the space between him and the judge came alive with…something. He had an insane urge to step closer so he could brush against the man.

The judge smiled, then winked and offered Rynn the second glass he held. “Have a drink.”

Rynn took the glass and mirrored how the judge sipped. He had to close his eyes to enjoy the pleasant burn of perhaps the finest spirits he’d ever tasted.

He felt a little like a colt breaking free from the paddock with the gate closing unheard behind him.

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

Click here for the site’s main webpage on Sursein Judgment.

Now available!

Pairing: m/m

Buy it Loose Id

This is a re-release of the story that originally came out from another publisher. Same story, new cover, updated editing.

BLURB:

It’s rather ironic, isn’t it, that Kyle plans to steal the papers that will free him from the life of a thief? What’s even more ironic, or maybe not ironic but downright annoying, is that they’re already gone.

And now the papers are in the hands of the one man who has ever been able to put Kyle off his game. Seth, the absolutely gorgeous hunk of a man that Kyle can’t figure out his attraction to. He’s not gay. He’s never wanted sex with a guy. But he can’t stop looking at Seth.

To his surprise, Seth’s real nice about the papers. He promises not to turn them, or Kyle over. He’ll even give them to Kyle, if Kyle will just come home with him. Obviously Seth’s up to something, but what?

Read an excerpt

Cover art by PL Nunn

Released August 12, 2008 from Loose Id

Pairing: m/m

Available in ebook from Loose Id

Available in ebook from ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

Available in ebook from Barnes & Noble

This is a re-release of the story that originally came out from another publisher. Same story, new cover, new editing.

BLURB:

It’s rather ironic, isn’t it, that Kyle plans to steal the papers that will free him from the life of a thief? What’s even more ironic, or maybe not ironic but downright annoying, is that they’re already gone.

And now the papers are in the hands of the one man who has ever been able to put Kyle off his game. Seth, the absolutely gorgeous hunk of a man that Kyle can’t figure out his attraction to. He’s not gay. He’s never wanted sex with a guy. But he can’t stop looking at Seth.

To his surprise, Seth’s real nice about the papers. He promises not to turn them, or Kyle over. He’ll even give them to Kyle, if Kyle will just come home with him. Obviously Seth’s up to something, but what?

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

©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved
Moonlight streaming through the den’s windows was all the light Kyle needed. His nimble fingers set the tumblers in motion, flicking the dial until the proper click sounded, then spinning the dial in the opposite direction. Then there was a chunk, and Kyle’s fingers stopped. He grinned. Finally! He opened the safe door and shone his penlight inside and…

They weren’t there! He reached inside, carefully lifting the few items within the safe, but there were no documents anywhere in the small compartment.

That was impossible! For a moment, he gaped in disbelief at the safe’s interior. The papers had to be in there. He’d seen Quince put them there himself just this afternoon. Why would the boss take them back out? But they certainly weren’t there, and the whole reason for this escapade was gone. Mind reeling in confusion, Kyle closed the safe and replaced the small framed photograph that hid it from view. Now what?

A hand clamped over his mouth as an arm snaked around his chest. Kyle froze in shock. His penlight dropped to the floor with a muffled thunk.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” a voice demanded softly against his ear. The knitted cap he wore over his head heated from the breath.

He didn’t struggle as a much bigger body hauled him back from the wall into the middle of the dark room. He could see the shadows of the furniture just fine and chanced a glance at the mirror over the bar to the right. He and his captor were silhouetted against the window. The man was a full head and shoulders taller than him. Short, straight hair gleamed bright blue in the moonlight.

Oh no! It wasn’t…

“Stupid little shit.” The low voice sounded more amused than upset as the bigger man set Kyle properly on his feet and spun him around.

Kyle looked up and couldn’t help but gasp. Seth. There was no mistaking the older man’s angular face and the almost sneering smile. The intense blue of his deep-set eyes was hidden in the shadows of his sharp brows. That white-blond hair shone an eerie blue in the moonlight, hanging loose and straight from the crown of his head to his chin and in unruly bangs over his eyes to the tip of his nose. For a brief moment, Kyle could only stare in awe at the perfection that was Seth, even in his anger.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kyle flinched, tearing his eyes from Seth’s beauty as his mind raced. He’d had stories ready for if he got caught, but none for someone catching him with his hand in the safe. Especially not Seth. The very presence of the man sent Kyle’s thoughts into turmoil.

Seth bought Kyle a moment by reaching up with one long-fingered hand and snatching off the knit cap that covered his entire head. He blinked as his tousled, wavy brown hair fell in his eyes. He reached up to clear his vision, only to have the cap thrown in his face. He caught it mostly on instinct.

“Be glad it was me who caught you, stupid shit. What were you after? Or were you just practicing?”

“Yeah.” Kyle anxiously latched on to the excuse given him. “Practicing.”

“Wrong. And you’re such a bad liar. How Quince thinks he can make a thief of you, I have no idea.”

“Hey!”

Seth’s hand clamped over Kyle’s mouth again. The scent of the clove cigarettes Seth smoked assailed Kyle’s nostrils. He closed his eyes, head swimming as a simmering fire tickled his skin at Seth’s touch. Not now! he willed his body. Why did he have to be caught by the one man, the one person, who always managed to keep him off his game?

Seth leaned in, almost as if he would kiss Kyle. “Do you want someone to hear? Shut up!”

He straightened, dropping his hand. Kyle hastily backed up against the bar, putting some distance between them. Like Kyle, Seth was dressed in all black. A long-sleeved T-shirt hugged every lean, muscular curve of his torso and arms, and blacker-than-black jeans encased those long legs. A pair of gloves was tucked in his waistband.

Seth gave him a nasty grin. Making eye contact with Kyle, he reached into his back pocket and brought out a slim envelope. He held it up between two elegant fingers. “Looking, perhaps, for this?”

Kyle’s eyes went wide. He grabbed before he could think about it, but Seth nimbly snatched it out of his reach.

Desperate, Kyle dismissed any pride. The hand that had missed the envelope landed on Seth’s chest. He dug his fingers into hard muscle, gathering shirt. “Please,” he begged, meeting Seth’s gaze. “I need those.”

Seth’s cruel grin faltered. Something…else flickered in those shadowed eyes before the grin was drawn back into place. “You beg so pretty, Kyle.”

Kyle gritted his teeth, ignoring the warmth that surged through his blood at the comment. He thumped Seth’s chest, still gripping shirt. “Seth, please. I’m desperate. You gotta help me.”

“I gotta?”

“Please! Just give them to me. Those can’t do anything for you.”

Seth studied Kyle for a long moment. His mouth opened.

Footsteps sounded down the hall from the door. Both of them froze, heads snapping toward the entrance.

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

Click here for site’s main page for Snagged

Check it out on her blog:

http://katrina-strauss.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-heck-is-yaoi.html 

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

Johnnie Heaven waits for me on a balcony overlooking the distant Pacific Ocean. My, that sounds lovely, doesn’t it? To have a gorgeous rockstar waiting for me? And it is lovely. I spend a short moment watching him, his long body folded into a chair, bare feet propped up on the balcony railing before him. Blue lounge pants cover his long legs with a lighter blue dress shirt draping broad shoulders and slimly muscled arms. All that glorious hair is loose, spilling down the back of the chair in hues from gold through chestnut to chocolate.

He chuckles without looking at me, sipping at his soft drink. “You’re late.”

I grimace and finally step onto the small space. “I know.”

“You’re the one who kept putting it off.”

“Quiet, you,” I mutter, sitting in a chair beside him.

Being the pompous ass he is—

“Be nice,” he warns me, setting down his drink on the small table between us.

“Okay.”

Being the lovely creature that he is—

“Oh that’s nice.”

—he’s consented to give me an interview. Since this is virtual, I don’t bother with pad and pencil or recorder, just curl up in my chair and face him. He’s nicer to look at than the landscape anyway. “Where shall we start?”

“Oh, let’s not start at the beginning.” He adjusts in his chair, posing for me. One leg comes down from the railing, showing off just how long and sleek he is. “My adolescence wasn’t that interesting.” Given that his parents were divorced during that time, it’s understandable.

“So, where should we start?”

“How about when I met Luc?”

I nod. “All right. How old were you?”

“Almost eighteen.”

“How did you meet him?”

“At Purgatory, the club where we got our start.” He smiled fondly, adjusting the sunglasses that, unfortunately, hide those stunning emerald eyes of his. “We both ended up crashing a private party that turned out to be a dud. I can’t even remember who it was for.” He gives it a moment’s thought then releases it with a shrug. “I heard him mention this band he and his friend were thinking of starting and we started talking. By the end of the night, we’d agreed to meet that weekend.”

“You just hit it off?”

“We seemed to. Luc and I think a lot alike, you know.”

Yes, I do. “The rest is history?”

“Pretty much. I met Brent that weekend and after hearing him play, I couldn’t pass up the chance. They had another drummer back then. He played with us for a few months then left when he got a ‘real’ job.” The amused disdain in his voice is obvious.

“Where did you find Darien?”

“At Purgatory. You know his uncle owns the place. We’d just convinced Garth to let us play one night when Thom quit. When we told him we had to quit because we didn’t have a drummer, he suggested his nephew.” Johnnie laughed and gave me a look over the rim of his glasses. “You know how hyper Darien is now?”

I nod.

“Multiply that times five.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Another chuckle. “But not when he was playing. He learned the few songs we had pretty much in one night and played with us in our normal spot. We didn’t make any money that night to speak of, but Garth did ask us back.” A smug look. “The girls really liked us.” His grin takes on that wicked tilt he’s known for. “Really liked us.”

I can’t resist. “You get laid?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

“Girl or guy?”

“It was a girl that night.”

“You remember?”

“I remember them all.”

Somehow, I believe him. “Were you bisexual back then?”

“Proudly so.”

“The other guys didn’t mind?”

“Not that I noticed. Surprised at first, but they took it in stride.”

“And you converted them all.”

“Not personally, no. Damn it.”

That makes me laugh. “Who did you want to sleep with?”

“I would have slept with any of them,” he says without hesitation. “Have you seen them?”

“I have.”

“Then you can’t blame me.” He sits back in his chair.

“No, I can’t. The idea of promoting the band as all bisexual was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I thought it’d be a good gimmick. I never thought it’d really last that long or that they’d really take to it.”
“Did it surprise you when they started being interested in guys?”

He thinks for a second. “Brent? No. I kinda thought he was gay. Darien, well Chris was his first so it took him awhile.” He chuckles. “Luc surprised me, though. I didn’t think he’d go for it. But once he did…” He laughs harder.

“Ah, the life of a rockstar. Fun, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all over now, though, right?”

He arches a brow at me. “All the fun?”

“All the sleeping around.” I glance behind us, not that Tyler is there. He’s in the hotel somewhere but not anywhere in hearing distance. “You’re rather committed now, aren’t you?”

His smile turns from smug to beatific. “I am.”

“Tell me about that.”

“What’s to tell? It’s great. He’s great.”

“Did you see yourself settling down with a guy?”

“I never saw myself settling.”

“Not even in your later years.”

“Nope.”

“You don’t want kids?”

He shrugs. “Never really thought about it or expected it, to be honest. I always thought it’d be nice. I like kids. But if it didn’t happen, that’s fine too.”

“What about Tyler? He want kids?”

“We’re discussing it.”

“You’re in love?”

“Hopelessly.”

“What is it about him that draws you?”

He sighs. “What about him doesn’t?” He shakes his head. “He’s smart, he’s talented, he’s got a head for business that makes my head spin. We amuse each other. He’s fucking gorgeous.”

“He’s good in bed,” I tease.

“I decline to answer that one,” he says with a small grin.

“Was it love at first sight?”

“I have to admit that it was lust at first sight. For me. He had an unfair advantage.”

“Oh?”

“He’d seen me before.”

“But he hadn’t met you in the flesh.” I glance down at said flesh.

He grins. “Too true.”

“And then…”

He shrugs. “At first, it was a lark. He was beautiful and I couldn’t miss those big, blue eyes looking at me. For such a sharp businessman he’s got the worst poker face. Plus he gets this gorgeous flush when he’s excited.” He clears his throat.

“He was straight when you met him.”

“So he thought.”

“What made you think otherwise?”

He stares at me for a quiet moment. “A feeling.”

“Meaning?”

He turns aside, scowling slightly at the horizon. “He… didn’t act straight. He was at least bi, even if he didn’t know it.”

“That’s kind of high-handed of you to decide for him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t force him.”

I lay my hand on his shoulder. “I know you didn’t. Just… persuaded him.”

He has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Yeah. I pushed the point. But my brain didn’t work right when I was with him. Still doesn’t, completely.”

“What made you want to be with him forever?”

He gives it some thought, staring into the distance. Then he shrugs. Removing the sunglasses, he gives me the full effect of those gorgeous green eyes. “I fell in love. I can’t imagine being without him.”

How sweet.

“So what’s up with Heaven Sent now?”

“We’re taking a break. We’ve got a few gigs lined up between now and June, but then we’re playing it by ear. Brent and Hell have a few projects they want to look into, Darien’s spending time with Chris. I think they’re going to travel some. And Luc’s got this movie thing.”

“You ever thought of doing movies yourself?”

“Oh sure. I’ve had a few offers. Nothing that really hit me, though.” He shrugs. “I’m not opposed but I’m not going out looking.”

“Is this the graceful end of Heaven Sent?”

“Nah. I know it looks like it could be, but it’s not. We’re not done with each other.”

Good to know. “Ever thought of a solo career?”

He shrugs. “Again, I’ve had offers but I’m not really interested. Maybe I’m just lazy. I’m used to working with the guys. Doing it all on my own doesn’t appeal.”

I smile. “So you go your separate ways for awhile, then meet up again?”

“Something like that.”

“And in the meantime, you’ll get to spend more time with Tyler.”

“Yeah. I’m looking forward to that.”

Out of my own questions, I consult the list left by fans. “Seems to be a fascination with your hair,” I muse. “You ever think of cutting it?”

He pulls a handful over his chest, admiring it. “I’ve thought about it. It’s a pain in the ass, to tell you the truth.” Frowning, he brings the lock of hair closer to inspect the ends. With a sniff, he drops it back to his lap. “But I think I’d feel kind of lost without it now.” He chuckles. “Tyler might not be too happy if I cut it. He might let me cut it to mid back or something, but I don’t think I’d go shorter than that.”

“What kind of conditioner do you use?”

He laughs. “You know, I’m not even sure which one it is. I change a lot.” He touches the hair to his nose. “This one smells like peppermint, though.”

“Have you written any songs dedicated to Tyler?”

“Every love song since I’ve met him has been written about Tyler.”

“Were you ever in love before Tyler?”

He picks up his drink to sip at it. “Not really. I kind of thought I was, but all those relationships were too easy to give up. Might have been because I was all about Heaven Sent for so long.” He’s thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t regret those other relationships, but I don’t miss them either. I’d be a wreck without Tyler.”

I laugh at the next fan question. “Have you beat Hell at video games?”

He scowls. “The little beast won’t play anymore! He just got lucky.”

Which just makes me laugh harder.

“What’s so funny?”

What a delightful surprise. We turn to see Tyler stepping onto the balcony. He looks achingly gorgeous in a blue and white striped dress shirt and silver gray slacks. The slacks are obviously part of a suit but he’s left the jacket somewhere else. His curly gold hair is loose about his picture-perfect face and those enormous blue eyes fasten on his husband as he closes in for a kiss.

I watch them slowly brush lip to lip and see the hint of tongues that quickly swipe each other.

“That was for my benefit?” I ask archly.

Tyler straightens, leaning his hip against the back of Johnnie’s chair. “Yours and the readers,” he says with an unrepentant smile.

“You’ve been around him too long,” I accuse.

Tyler squeezes Johnnie’s shoulder. “No doubt.”

“All right then, you get to answer the last question.”

“Okay.”

“What did you do for your last anniversary?”

Tyler’s eyes go wider than normal, then he ducks his head to hide a blush. Johnnie laughs.

“Oh, this must be good.”

Tyler slugs Johnnie’s shoulder, which just makes the singer laugh harder.

“Well?” I prod.

Tyler sighs, still not looking at me. “We decided to stay here. We got all the food and anything we’d need for three days and I told the staff not to disturb us.”

What’s so bad about that? Unless… I smile. “Good God! Did you guys ever get out of bed?”

Tyler’s flush deepens.

Johnnie’s grin is positively demonic. “Not really.”

Oh man!

And that, lovely readers, is where I’ll leave this interview because my brain is now scrambled just thinking of such a weekend!

Here’s the website link to more information

Pairing: m/m

Buy it here

The week before Heaven Sent’s New Year’s performance, Brent fractures his hand, which puts him out of commission for the show. Fortunately, it’s not permanent, but it leaves he and Hell dealing with the “what if,” not to mention Brent’s jealousy of the guitarist taking his place. As the band members and their partners struggle to adjust, the stress brings their personal issues to light:

* Tyler wants to be a parent but he’s not sure Johnnie will agree. Johnnie feels the strain in their relationship, but doesn’t know how to make it right.

* Luc has gotten a big break in a new movie, but his new co-star wants more than his onscreen love. Reese trusts Luc, but he can’t help loathing his leading lady.

* Chris takes a job that will keep him away from Darien over the New Year’s. If that weren’t bad enough, Chris’s new client is his ex, and Darien knows the ex wants Chris back.

Heaven Sent needs more than a miracle to find their happily ever after. It needs…a new beginning.

Pairing: m/m

Available in ebook at Loose Id

Available in ebook at ARe

Available in ebook from Fictionwise

Available in ebook at Barnes & Noble

This one is about all four couples. That’s right. All four: Johnnie/Tyler, Luc/Reese, Hell/Brent & Darien/Chris. I revist every one of them again as they deal with the fact that Brent’s hurt his hand and won’t be able to play in their upcoming New Year’s concert at the new ski resort & spa called Genesis.

BLURB:

The week before Heaven Sent’s New Year’s performance, Brent fractures his hand, which puts him out of commission for the show. Fortunately, it’s not permanent, but it leaves he and Hell dealing with the “what if,” not to mention Brent’s jealousy of the guitarist taking his place. As the band members and their partners struggle to adjust, the stress brings their personal issues to light:

* Tyler wants to be a parent but he’s not sure Johnnie will agree. Johnnie feels the strain in their relationship, but doesn’t know how to make it right.

* Luc has gotten a big break in a new movie, but his new co-star wants more than his onscreen love. Reese trusts Luc, but he can’t help loathing his leading lady.

* Chris takes a job that will keep him away from Darien over the New Year’s. If that weren’t bad enough, Chris’s new client is his ex, and Darien knows the ex wants Chris back.

Heaven Sent needs more than a miracle to find their happily ever after. It needs…a new beginning..

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

EXCERPT:

©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“So is this a tradition now?” Mavis asked, sitting heavily on the padded bench beside Reese. “This after-Christmas party?”

Reese smiled, sipping his Jack and Coke. “It could be,” he told her, setting down the tumbler. “We had so much fun last year, we decided to do it again.”

Mavis smiled, tucking vivid — fake — red hair behind her ear as she looked out over the crowd. “I approve.”

They clinked glasses in a toast, then watched the crowd. The White Tiger wasn’t anywhere near full, but it was fuller than usual for one o’clock in the afternoon. Everyone was dressed casually, most in festive Christmas sweaters or shirts and many with bright red or green stocking caps. Tinsel and wreaths still decorated the walls. All in attendance were either friends of Luc or Reese or friends of those friends. Only those with a connection got into the club, which was officially closed. The skeleton staff, however, was pretty happy working, since they were getting double their normal salary, and that was on top of the holiday bonus they’d already received. All in all, it was a festive gathering.

“So.” Mavis turned to him, bending her knee on the bench between them and cradling her drink in her lap. She was an artist Reese had met at a number of gallery showings, and they’d become quite good friends over the past few years. “What did Luc get for you this year? A yacht? A fleet of cars? An island in the Mediterranean?”

Reese chuckled, smoothing a hand over his curly black hair. He was back to his natural color for the first time in two years and it still kind of felt weird to see it and not see blue. “All of the above, of course,” he lied, knowing she’d see through it.

Mavis sighed. “Must be nice to be a kept man. Harkens back to the days of artists and wealthy patrons. I’m so living in the wrong century.” Wearing a heavily brocaded corset over a long black skirt, she’d dressed the part. She turned back toward the crowd. “And such a luscious patron, too. Where is he, by the way?”

Pleased with the party and still buzzing from an amazing two weeks on holiday with Luc, Reese didn’t even bristle at Mavis’s taunt. She knew it wasn’t true anyway. He waved toward one of the balconies. “He was up there the last time I…”

His heart went cold. Some of the buzz left his brain as he caught sight of Luc.

With her.

“Where did she come from?” he muttered.

“What? Who?”

He didn’t answer immediately, trying to school his first reaction. The guests at this party were all supposed to be friends, but he knew any scene would find its way to the gossip rags. So he wouldn’t make a scene. Why would he? Nothing was happening.

But why was she here?

Karin Marks. The actress who had played Luc’s love interest in the movie and who would play the same in the sequel they’d both signed on for. Cute, with sleek, curly black hair, she wore a ridiculously low-cut red sweater, which all but exposed her perky little breasts. “Little” being the operative word. She barely had any. Two little bumps were all that told you she was a girl and not a guy. She stood with Luc at the balcony railing. No. She almost stood on top of him as she held his arm like she was entitled to it.

“Is that who I think it is?” Mavis asked.

“Probably.”

As though feeling Reese’s glare, Luc scanned the crowd below. His auburn hair was pulled into a loose tail, exposing every gorgeous, carved line of his face. Sensual lips caressed the rim of the tumbler he brought to his lips as those sable eyes darted over the partygoers. Since the lights were all up, he easily caught sight of Reese. He smiled, raised his other hand to his lips, and blew Reese a kiss.

Reese would not gloat. He wouldn’t. But he did smile at his boyfriend — his! — and waved.

Beside Luc, Karin glanced toward Reese, her expression cool. She reached over to say something to Luc, splaying her hand over one side of his chest.

“She does know about you and Luc, doesn’t she?”

“Oh, she knows.” He lifted his drink to his lips. “She doesn’t like me much.”

Mavis laughed. “I can just imagine. She’s got a lot of nerve, though.”

“A lot, yeah.”

“What is she? Sixteen?”

Reese chuckled. “Acts like it, but she’s supposedly in her twenties somewhere.”

Luc was still watching him even as he responded to whatever Karin said. Reese grimaced. Luc sighed, shoulders slumping.

You can be the biggest fucking asshole in the world when it suits you, Reese recalled from a recent heated conversation with the redhead. Why the hell don’t you show her that side of you?

I’ve got to work with her, Luc had explained. It hadn’t helped that the conversation had taken place after a public screening of the movie. Reese had had to watch scenes where Luc held her, where Luc kissed her. Even one scene of them in bed naked — although Luc had assured them that they had not actually been naked. But that woman’s bare breasts had touched Luc’s bare chest, no doubt about that.

“I need a refill,” Reese murmured, standing as he emptied his tumbler.

Mavis nodded and stood, walking with him toward the bar. She got sidetracked on the way there, so Reese ended up reaching the bar alone. He chatted briefly with a few friends who were also at the bar, ordering another drink while trying to tamp down his annoyance.

Trina, the bartender, had just set down his drink when an arm slid around Reese’s shoulders from behind, yanking him back against a very familiar chest.

“Hey, tiger,” Luc murmured, nuzzling Reese’s ear.

Reese glared at him in the mirror behind the bar. As glares went, it was mild, but Luc got the point.

He lowered his head, pressing his cheek to Reese’s. “I didn’t know she’d be here.”

“I thought she was in California.”

“Turns out she’s got family here in New York.”

“So she just suddenly decides to up and see them?”

Luc groaned softly, face buried in Reese’s neck.

“Terrific.” Reese sipped his drink over Luc’s arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. Not like you could help it, I guess.”

Luc studied him in the mirror. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re madder than you sound?”

Reese gave him a false smile, patting the arm banding his shoulders. “Because you know me well.”

Luc bit the side of Reese’s neck, then laved it with his tongue. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

Reese chuckled darkly. “Oh, yes. You will.”

Luc laughed, pressing Reese closer to the bar. Reese was wondering if they might have to duck out of the party for a while to take care of the erection he felt against his butt, as well as the one in his pants, but Luc suddenly backed up. Reese watched, curious, as Luc reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He checked the number, then promptly flipped it open. “Hell, what’s up?”

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