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

Is this not awesome?! I love this cover. Kudos and my everlasting thanks to PL Nunn for the Rabin/Izzy loveliness

Keep up to date about what’s happening with Squire here. Still due out beginning of September.

This isn’t a long excerpt, just a quick look at when Rabin meets Izzy. And, yes, Brent would be Heaven Sent’s Brent Rose.

Keep up to date with IK1: Squire here

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©2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

When Rabin finally found the gate with the number Brent had given him, he was fairly bouncing with excitement. This place was fucking unreal. He leaned out his window to press a button on a pad mounted in front of the gate.

“Hey, Rabin.” Brent’s voice was crystal clear.

“How’d you know it’s me?”

“Cameras everywhere.” Brent laughed as the gate in front of Rabin began to slide open. “Come on up. Front door’s open.”

Daylight was slowly fading to twilight as Rabin parked his truck beside a dusty black Corvette and a recently washed white Mazda under the shade of a spreading tree. Rabin knew fuck all what kind of tree it was, but it sure was pretty, matching many of the other trees that surrounded the house and the embankment that led down from the house to the water. The house itself was two levels and looked like a huge cabin, complete with all the rustic finishes. Gorgeous.

After hefting his guitar case and the largest of his three suitcases from the truck, he headed toward the front door and found it open as promised. “Hello?” He stopped at the threshold. Loud pop music and a truly heavenly scent of some sort of cooking poultry lead him to his right and what he thought might be the kitchen.

Kitchen it was, all done up in dark colors to match the rural feel of the exterior of the house. The appliances were state of the art, lining the wall to the left of the opening that led into the room as well as the wall in front of Rabin. A huge island dominated the center of the room, complete with copper pots hanging above it. A four-seater table was built into a huge bay window overlooking the lake to Rabin’s right.

There was a young man who was very obviously not either Brent or Hell busy at the sink, his back to Rabin. He was on the short side, closer to Hell’s diminutive height than he was to either Brent’s or Rabin’s size. His hair was shining black, pulled into a tail that hung in gentle waves halfway down his back. He was singing and jiggling to the music, shaking slim shoulders, a trim waist, and a pert little ass. Reaching the chorus of the song, he belted out in a very nice if slightly off-key tenor. Tugging a towel from where it hung at the waistband of his jeans, he turned around, eyes closed as he sang into an imaginary microphone. Rabin grinned, enjoying the show. The kid was incredibly pretty. A softly rounded jaw and high cheekbones gave his face a gorgeous shape, and a long, thick fringe of that black hair hid his forehead, brows, and part of his eyes. Seen from the front, his snug, lime green T-shirt proclaimed Straight? So is spaghetti until you heat it up. Once the chorus was done, his dusky pink lips curled up in a smile and his eyes opened. Amazing eyes. Big and almond shaped, with irises as dark as chocolate bonbons and lashes any woman would die for.

Finally seeing Rabin, the young man stopped, eyes and mouth open wide in surprise. “Oh. Hi.”

Rabin felt like applauding but didn’t, since he still held his bags. “Hi.”

The kid’s mouth closed and his throat worked over a swallow while an embarrassed flush colored softly rounded cheeks. “You must be Rabin.” Tucking the towel back into his waistband, the young man hastily circled around the island toward him. One hand extended to go with a wide, welcoming smile. “I’m Izzy.”

Pairing: m/f

Available in ebook from Aspen Mountain Press

Available in ebook from ARe

This is a heavily revised and expanded version of an out of print story of the same name. Same characters, same situation but I’ve tweaked it mightily and it’ll be longer.

Skyler has the dubious honor of being my only fully heterosexual main hero to date. I like him anyway.

BLURB:

Ann has safely put Skyler and her juvenile feelings for him behind her. She’d been mad about him in high school but they’d never been more than friends. Then he left early graduation and never looked back.

Eleven years later, Skyler shows up and proves that she’s never gotten out of her system, no matter how much she’s tried. He’s only in town for a short time, but he makes it plain that he’d like to see her during that time.

Can Ann take advantage of the opportunity and experience what she missed in high school without losing her heart to a man who has no intention of sticking around?

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©2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Subtly, she drifted farther from him, losing his hand. “But since…?” Gram had been sure to fill her in about his travels of the past few years. He’d been around the world, drinking in every experience he could, while he could.

Although he itched for her touch, he played the good boy and shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Yeah, I know. Europe was great. Australia was mind bending. I’ve been all across the States and back and down into Mexico. I loved it all. At the time.” He gave the fatalistic shrug that had become so familiar lately. “It all ends up being the same underneath, just a different location.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Another shrug. “Pretty much everywhere is just plain old home to someone.”

“Interesting observation.” Her voice was soft, her eyes on the ground the walked. “Do you think you’d ever move back here?”

“Nah.” Gut reaction. “It’s not for me. Nice to visit, but I’d go crazy if I stayed here.”

To that she had no reaction and he chose to let the matter rest.

A trickle of water was all that dampened the creek bed that bisected the path. One wide arm of an oak tree spread low along the side of the path, convenient for sitting. Beyond was darkness, a haven of trees that had been his retreat during his younger days. A haven where he could be alone or where he could take a girlfriend. He stopped at the threshold. The two of them had been here before. Here he’d made his fatal mistake.

A hand gently patted the back of his shoulder and looked down into her beautiful, sympathetic eyes. “I’m so sorry about your knee. You must have been devastated.”

He blinked, so very far away from thinking about his short-lived career. “Thanks. I was. But life goes on.”

“You’re okay now?”

“As much as anyone can be, I guess. A little limp sometimes.” He shrugged.

“So.” She settled against the branch, gazing up at the leafy canopy, not remembering or, it seemed, uncaring of their location. Her hands linked loosely before her. “What do you do these days besides travel the world?”

He braced beside her on the branch, watching the water. “A lot of nothing, actually. Thanks to Gramps, I was smart enough to invest then get out before everything crashed. So I’m okay for at least a few years while I decide.”

“Decide…?”

He grinned at her. “What I want to be when I grow up.”

She laughed and the warmth of the sound, the warmth of the woman, snapped his control. She was here and the moment felt right. He could no longer stand not to touch her. He leaned in to close the distance between their lips, giving her ample time to pull away.

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Click here for the site’s main page for Bye Bye Skyler

http://www.cafepress.com/jetmykles

NOT WORKSAFE

O_O

It made me laugh. Made me wonder why anyone would do that. Where was the other sock? Stuck down someone’s pants, perhaps? I couldn’t think of why someone would do such a thing. Me being me, I started to think if perhaps it was a sign of a secret society (kind of like Ally’s Sinister Starfish). If so, what could the sign mean? Is someone arranging an assignation? Is it a clue to an identity or a place? Or is it a gang/group marking their territory?

I love random stuff like that. It’s harmless, hurts no one and nothing, but it sparks the imagination, even if only for a few minutes. That, to me, is a beautiful thing.