Easton Thomas, a handsome and wealthy man with a generous heart, owns an historic mansion on Florida’s Gold Coast, a house filled with spirits and secrets from the past. When a hurricane grounds all flights and cruise ship connections, Easton invites a group of stranded passengers to ride out the storm at his mansion. He is drawn to Randy, a shy and insecure man from Atlanta, but Mitchell, Easton’s longtime companion and estate manager, has different plans for Easton.
Mitchell buttoned his shirt and made his way to the center railing overlooking the downstairs entry. “Easton, is that you?” He could see what looked like a crowd gathered near the front entry casually dropping suitcases and bags. “Did you pick up a tour bus before your cruise?” he asked sarcastically, trying to contain his anger. “Easton, a word please. This is a bad time to have a house full of guests. These people are not stray cats that you found on the highway. They are adults caught up in the same shitty mess as the rest of South Florida, so why do you feel responsible for them?” Mitchell hissed.
“I guess for the same reason I have always felt responsible for you,” Easton smiled, and his eyes glowed in the soft light. He took Mitchell in his arms and kissed him. “We have an ample supply of backup candles and flashlights in the cellar closet. Do you mind bringing them upstairs in case we lose power? I will move the cars to the garage. I don’t want them damaged,” Easton said.
“Let me do that,” Mitchell volunteered as he thought about the apartment over the garage. There was no need to take any unnecessary chances.
Mitchell opened the door and headed out into the fierce wind and rain. He secured the vehicles, closed the garage door, and started up the side stairs to the second floor. He reached the door to the apartment that had initially served as the living quarters for the chauffeurs, stepped inside, and closed the door. “Where are you?” Mitchell whispered.
He saw the shadow emerge cautiously from the adjacent room. “I’m here. I was beginning to worry. I considered leaving, but I wouldn’t make it very far in this weather. Why did Easton come back? I thought he would be away for a couple of weeks.”
“It’s this storm. The flights are grounded and he brought a group of stranded passengers with him to ride out the storm. You will have to stay here until it’s clear to leave.”
“How can I do that? There is no food here, and I cannot get cell service. Maybe we should let Easton know I’m here.”
“Absolutely not! Easton made it clear that you were not to come back here. I have no intention of being out on the street on my ass at this time in my life. I have too much to lose. I’ll bring you coffee and food before everyone wakes in the morning, so just take it easy.” Mitchell leaned in and kissed him. “Goodnight, and try to be patient.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled.
“Stranded Spirits,” gay romance and murder mystery by David Edmondson, is available from Amazon (KDP Select). Click to Purchase. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
A spur-of-the-moment vacation was supposed to jolt Cameron Douglas out of his funk, but it appears he only traded locations. It was a chance meeting with a handsome stranger that changed everything. Brandon stirs Cameron’s interest and his heart, but will the mysterious man reveal his true identity before their vacation in paradise is over?
Sometimes life in the spotlight was a heavy weight to bear for Brandon Bullet. He never knew if men were interested in him as a person or just enamored with his rock star status – until he meets Cameron Douglas. It wasn’t often that Brandon shared a connection with someone who wasn’t aware of his notoriety. He’s determined to keep his identity a secret while the two of them get to know each other and before someone blows his cover.
“A bed?” Cam raised an eyebrow, and his lips drew back into a sly smile.
Brandon chuckled. It couldn’t have been more perfect. He put his hand to his chest to proclaim his innocence. “I had no idea.”
Cam playfully rolled his eyes before he took a swig of his beer and placed it on the table next to the bed. He kicked off his flip-flops, lay down on the left side of the mattress and laced his hands behind his head. He stared up at the curtain draped across the top of the cabana without the slightest bit of unease.
Brandon joined him. They had met less than twenty minutes ago, and now they were lying next to one another, inches apart, on a bed on the beach. It was absurd and hot as hell.
Cam smiled, shifted onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow. His warm, brown eyes twinkled like melted chocolate in the glare of the afternoon sun. “Do me a favor. Take that knot out of your hair.”
Brandon stiffened, worried that recognition had finally crept into Cam’s head.
“I just want to see how long it is. And touch it.”
Brandon didn’t need any further prompting. He sat up and unraveled the elastic that held his hair in place. His blond curls cascaded down his back and over one shoulder. The soft breeze lifted a strand and blew it across his face as he turned to see Cam’s reaction.
Cam took the stray lock and tucked it behind Brandon’s ear. The smile on Cam’s face was full of allure and sent Brandon’s heart racing. His eyes rested on Cam’s gorgeous, plump lips. On any other day, with any other man, Brandon would have sucked on that bottom lip three minutes after they had met. He was waiting for the right moment to kiss Cam, and he was unsure about why he was hesitating.
“The Undercover Rock Star,” Book 1 in the ‘Bulletproof’ series, a new series by Jenna Galicki, is available from Amazon (Kindle Unlimited). Click to Purchase. Also available in print from Amazon.
Determined to become a rodeo star, Julian Busch ends up in North Carolina at Rolling Meadows Stables, where the days are grueling, the nights are wild, and his fellow trainees will mount a cowboy faster than they will mount a horse. Life in the rodeo isn’t easy, but wit and grit lead Julian to a place he never thought he would be.
Julian unpacked his suitcase, putting everything in the chest of drawers next to his bunk – socks and belts in the top drawer, underwear in the second, shirts in the third, and blue jeans in the bottom. He peeled off his red t-shirt with an Aggies mascot on it.
“Is that natural or do you work out?”
“What do you mean?”
“That chest. It just ain’t normal.”
“Just the result of daily workouts and some weightlifting.”
“I guess I’ve got to get me some weights.”
“Don’t need to. I brought mine. They’re still in the car.”
“Think you could help me?” He pulled up his shirt showing a modicum of development.
“Sure, we’ve got ten weeks here. I’m sure we could do something with that body of yours. It has potential.”
“Well, go shower. I’m going to grab a quick nap. Wake me when you’re ready to go to dinner.” Ross went to his bunk as Julian stripped, grabbed a towel, and entered the shower. A few moments later, Julian hollered to Ross, “Hey guy, you got some soap? I didn’t pack any and there ain’t none in here.”
Ross rose from the cot and took a bar of soap to the shower room.
“Damn, you’re a hairy one,” Ross said. “Good thing your Emily didn’t let you get very far. She’d be spitting out pubic hair more than doing anything else. You want some help there?”
“What? You think I’m gay and want to touch another guy’s junk?”
“I guess I was wrong. Sorry.” Ross returned to his cot and hoped Julian didn’t notice what he was sporting. Ross was disappointed in himself. He had vowed to follow the straight path now that he was starting a new life away from the life he had led in rural Georgia, and all the peers he had secretly been with. He knew he had to work harder on suppressing his innate desires. He fell asleep, but his mind conjured up a dream of him with the man he had just met.
“The Rodeo Rider,” an erotic cowboy romance novel by Duncan More, is available from Amazon in ebook and paperback format. Click Here or on Cover Above to Purchase. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
She rocks my world.
He sets my soul on fire.
We’ve traveled down a bumpy road, but we’ve finally found the balance.
It’s time to bring a new little rock star into our lives.
I’m Tommy Blade, the Prince of Punk Rock, and this is the next chapter in our story.
Loving two people is never easy, and Tommy Blade fights every day to ensure that his wife and his lover know that he loves them both equally. A commitment ceremony solidifies their pledge to one another and brings them closer together.
Jessi Blade is a lucky girl. With animosity behind them, she and Angel share a more intimate relationship and their lives flourish. She has everything she ever wanted – except a baby.
Angel Garcia never thought he’d share his life with a woman, no less marry one in a commitment ceremony. When a baby joins their family, it makes him realize how much Jessi really means to him.
The road Tommy, Jessi and Angel travel is never an easy one. Just when they’re at their happiest, an accident may very well change the course of their lives.
Tommy went for Jessi like an animal pouncing on his prey. He took her by the waist and pushed her back on the bed. His mouth was on hers, and his tresses fell like a curtain of golden silk. It prevented Angel from seeing the expression on their faces. It was one of the things he loved most about watching them. He tucked Tommy’s hair behind one ear so the silhouette of their faces was visible. Tommy’s lips covered Jessi’s, and his chest swelled with passion. There were little wrinkles between his brows which grew deeper when he pressed his mouth harder and turned it in a slow circle.
Jessi sighed and threw her head back as Tommy kissed his way down to her breasts. He ran his hands over her slender torso and kissed her waist. Jessi shuddered when his lips hit the area just below her navel.
Tommy abruptly sat back on his knees and yanked Jessi toward him. There was no hesitation or resistance as Jessi inhaled deeply and arched her back. Tommy gripped her hips and dug his fingers into her pelvis. His hair bounced and fanned his face. Glimpses of pouting, slightly-parted lips and a furrowed brow were visible between the flaxen strands of his long hair.
Jessi’s arms flailed wildly, and her breath came in heavy gasps. Bliss and ecstasy were clear across her face. Angel wondered what sex was like for a woman and if all women enjoyed it as much as Jessi.
“Punk Rock-A-Bye Baby,” Book Five in the Radical Rock Stars series, and a MUST READ by Jenna Galicki, is available from Amazon (Kindle Unlimited). Also available in print from Amazon. Click Here to Purchase
Ky’ren, Ke’ta, and their chosen mates, continue the galactic exploration started by their fathers as they discover several new friendly races. The adage, ‘you can’t tell a book by its cover,’ holds true for the aliens they meet. The more formidable looking the race, the more likely they were to be teddy bears. Never in their wanderings did they expect to encounter the Gods of the Universe, but they did. They never expected to find the end of time either, but they did. Or was it a prelude to a beginning?
By the end of the week, we were ready for a celebration on both fronts – the successful language translation and the final completion of our android.
Initially nothing happened, and then his eyes opened and he scanned his surroundings. A few seconds later, he moved his arms, flexed his fingers, and sat up. He did some side twists before getting down off the work table. It looked like he was doing bend and stretch exercises, which in a way, he was. He needed to test the limits of his movements. After five minutes of these ‘exercises,’ he dressed himself with the clothing Del’fra had laid out. He smoothed his clothing into place and smiled at us before speaking.
“Thank you all for giving me life. I am now ready to serve you. Let me be clear on who each of you are.”
I moved over to him and held out my hand to see if he would shake it. He did, and smiled.
“Why don’t you take a few days and think of a name you would like to be called. Take all the time you need and tell us when you’re ready.”
He smiled and looked around the room. “Thank you. I can tell you now. I wish to be called Nolforn.”
I didn’t realize how busy we had all been until my smiling naked lover walked into our main lounge that night and started undressing me. We were just settling into some deep kissing when Eo’poka came in with Del’fra and Ke’ta.
“Everyone, we’re having an orgy in the Peace main lounge. Come one, come all, so to speak.”
Patuka and I kept up our kissing as others popped into the lounge. We weren’t the only ones hungry for pleasure. After our second climax, we relaxed and cuddled, enjoying our closeness, before we circulated among the other writhing bodies.
I was always in awe of Torcano. He made an art form of sex. It was a joy to watch him. For my part, I had lost track of who I had sex with, at least nearly everyone. I was lying there trying to catch my breath when Patuka wanted more. When I opened my eyes, it looked like most everyone was gone. The last of the Eo’hala crew were leaving, and blew a kiss to us. The sex party was well appreciated, and much needed.
Patuka and I weren’t finished, though. We adjourned to our quarters for a nice, long, sensual, relaxing shower before we went to bed. As usual, we went to sleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning at breakfast, Nolforn sat down across from me. “That was an entertaining event last night. It gave me a lot of new insight into interpersonal relationships. Everyone seemed to enjoy having sex with many people, but I noticed that when some of the couples had sex together, there was more animation and happiness – you and Patuka, for example. Is that because you are bonded?”
“I didn’t know you were there, Nolforn. Yes, we do enjoy lots of sex, but with our bond mates, it’s so much more. The love between bonded lovers is deeper and more intense.”
“Legacy of the Emissary,” science fiction novel by Kiel Bei, is available from Amazon. Read free with Amazon Prime. Click Here or on Cover Above to Purchase Also enjoy “Phobos Nocturne” by Kiel Bei, available from Amazon.
J.D. didn’t miss what he didn’t have, including family. He barely remembered his mother and had never known his father. Following the death of his grandfather, he becomes the neighborhood pass-around-kid, raised by a group of caring church members.
When traveling evangelists Brother Bob and Sister Tina hear him play the piano, they quickly take him into their fold, where his talent and tragic story tear at the hearts of churchgoers across the Bible belt.
A hit on the revival circuit, J.D.’s talent and Bob and Tina’s showmanship soon turn their straw of a show into pure gold. Brother Bob and Sister Tina are becoming more than financially secure, but they need J.D.’s talent and story to keep their ministry going and their money growing.
When a clash between the old time religion and J.D.’s sexual orientation becomes a crisis, he runs to the military to hide, where he finds love with Ethan. But sweet, sexy Ethan, has a dark secret of his own, a secret that involves someone near and dear to J.D., which may keep the two men apart forever.
Ethan was a P.K., Preacher’s Kid, out of Tampa. I had been around other Preacher’s Kids, some of whom were so restricted they did nothing but rebel and lash out. Ethan was just the opposite. There was a goodness that came out of him naturally. He was as caring, honest, and kind as he was cute, and that guy was a whole bucket fulla cute. Ethan was quite the total package and made a damn fine looking soldier.
The beginning of fall had come to the southern base where we were stationed, and we could see that some leaves had begun to change as we walked slowly through the night together. In the darkness, we had not seen clouds gathering above us. The skies suddenly opened, a gusting wind pushing the falling rain over us in waves. I was content to cavort like a fool in the downpour, but Ethan, who was very good about letting me be silly, quickly pushed us off the sidewalk to a barracks we were near and into an open doorway. We stood looking at the rain for a moment, waiting for it to let up, with me grinning at Ethan.
“You are drunk. I shouldn’t have let you have that beer.”
“And you are cute,” I said, lightly pressing a forefinger into his chest.
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”
“And nice, and kind, and..,”
Ethan cut me off while I was speaking. “Stop. You don’t know me, man.” Ethan was suddenly dead serious, his face tightening and going dark. “I’m not the good guy you all think I am.” There was a moment of silence between us as I took in this new side to my buddy that I had never seen. Then just as suddenly, the Ethan I knew came back to the surface, “Hey,” he said, his warm smile back on his face, “you’ve never told me about your life.”
“It’s a long story,” I said, wanting to get back on track with where my little engine was heading.
“We’ve got time,” he said, patting the concrete next to him.
I tried to change the subject, but Ethan was having none of that. So I talked, catching him up on the gory details of my life to date, everything but why Bob and Tina were going to send me to Costa Rica.
“You were the only guy in basic who didn’t talk about family, so I’ve kind of been figuring that you might have had it rough,” Ethan finally answered.
I just gave him a shrug. “It’s all I knew,” I said. “Besides, Bob and Tina weren’t all that bad. They were just doing what they knew.” We sat for a few more minutes before I found the courage to say what I had been waiting to say. “Ethan, I, I’m in love with you,” I finally stuttered out.
There was a long pause. Ethan stared blankly straight ahead into the rain before standing. We had been in the niche for about two hours by then, but it seemed only seconds because I was with him.
“We’d better get inside.”
“I just said I love you, man,” I gently chided, hoping for something that deep inside my heart I knew was not going to be returned.
“I know,” he said quietly, looking me in the face.
I could see tears welling up in his eyes and I wanted to reach up and stroke them away with my fingers.
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard,” he finally said in return, and a tear fell to trail down his cheek. “But that can’t ever happen,” he said, without looking at me or saying anything more as he stepped away from me and headed toward the barracks.
“Key Maneuvered” by James Brock, a gay romance novel set in the deeply religious, evangelical Bible belt, is available exclusively from Amazon. Click Here or on Cover Above to Purchase. Also available in print from Amazon. Cover art by Syneca Featherstone, http://www.syneca-originalsyn.com.
Loner and con man Sam is a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. Born into a world of scams, hoaxes and schemes, he settles in Miami after making a major art swindle, only to lose his heart to the wrong man. Broke and broken, he rockets out of the sunshine state only to be detoured to Las Vegas. Running from the problem is nothing new to this flim-flam man, but he has always worked alone until now. Pulling off the scam that his life now depends on, he is forced to join a motley crew of amateurs, including a former reality star, a retired showgirl, and a disabled vet and his stripper brother, who is running a con of his own.
Love, loss, redemption and sex are set against the bright neon of the Las Vegas strip in this sizzling romance!
I owed a guy money.
A lot of money.
And I made a deal with the devil.
Yeah, I’m a thief. Not proud of that, but not disturbed by it either.
No moral compass at all, survival of the fittest was what it boiled down to with us – Dad, Mom and me. Poppa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his hat was his home…the old man was as good looking as my mother was beautiful, but they could never make it together. He would bounce back to us for a caper now and then when we needed to make a larger than average hit, and then he’d be off again. But even when we were together we were like sharks, moving from town to town. We lived as high as we could for as long as we could, and then we would be on the hunt for another sucker to take down. There truly is one born every minute, as P.T. Barnum famously said, and we were always ready to help that fool to be parted with his money.
First I was just a prop. Food, clothing, cigarettes, and booze were stuffed into the stroller net and to my tender, but thickening, hide. As a toddler, my carriage became a getaway buggy for auto parts, jewelry, rare books, and once, a few furs. I can still remember the soft brush of chinchilla against my skin. As I got older, I followed the lead of my parents. Scheming and scamming were their stock and trade, and I took to it like a baby duck to water, never questioning any of it because it was the only life I knew. I learned to hotwire a car, pick a pocket, forge a check, and dodge rent. Our coat of arms would have consisted of a piece of broken hanger and a pair of soft gloves to prevent fingerprints.
South Beach has beautiful Art Deco buildings and is packed with hot guys of all shapes, sizes and types. South beach is also packed with thieves, scammers, and con people like me. I was running an art deal, a specialty that I was becoming known for. It was an international arrangement in which I managed to smuggle two Dutch Master works out of the country on yachts. I knew a guy who had done amazing replicas of the works. With properly aged canvas (it’s amazing what plain old tea bags and the South Florida sun can do to age canvas), he used only the best materials to make the correct formulas of old pigment, and hand made his own brushes. The pieces were as close to the originals as anyone was going to get.
The haul was big. Following the way I had lived my entire life, I took a sublet in one of the glittery high rise buildings that dot South Beach, and lived a little. I like stability, but had gotten used to life on the go, settling in quick and not staying in the same place. But every now and then, when I was flush with cash, I would splurge and settle in for a little while. I was enjoying South Beach, so I hit the clubs, spent some time in the gym and at the beach, and met Carlos.
Carlos had large eyes the color of a melted Godiva chocolate, skin like satin, thick black hair landing nearly to his shoulders, and that body… he was built like he was made of steel coils wrapped in suede. The attraction was mutual and instant.
“Vegas Stripped” by James Brock, is a romance and con scheme mystery that combines a motley crew of amateurs, including a former reality star, a retired showgirl, and a disabled vet and his stripper brother, who is running a con of his own. Available exclusively from Amazon. Click on Cover Above to Purchase from Amazon. Also available in print from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
In the conclusion of the ‘Journey of Self’ series, Daniel Self finds himself defending his relationship with Jordan Richards. He’s prepared to forgive Jordan for the past, but it’s not so easy for Daniel’s long time friend, Dunnelly Knight. Daniel struggles to find the love he’s looking for, only to come face to face with the past he has denied.
Daniel landed at Love Field on schedule and was at the condo well before 8:00. Jordan and he had chosen to live separately and allow their relationship to progress over time. It seemed to be working well, though Jordan pressed for more at times, as if he were looking for some sort of commitment. Jordan could always generate passion, and the sex was beyond intense. Daniel felt that he lost his usual objectivity when it came to sex with Jordan, and he often wondered how Jordan had become so skilled in what he did and how he did it.
Daniel showered and climbed into bed. His nude body was tired and he was looking forward to down time with Jordan. He picked up his cell phone and noticed that it was almost 9:00, but there was no message. He switched on the TV to the local channel and saw a promo for the local news with Dunnelly’s smiling face. He still had the same boyish good looks and easy smile as he had years ago when he was on the sidelines in his Willow Wildcat cheerleading uniform. Dunnelly had always been the one constant in Daniel’s life of loss and change and he held him close to his heart. Daniel sighed and switched off the TV. It was almost 10:00 and still no Jordan. He tossed his phone aside and closed his eyes. He thought he was dreaming when he felt a warm sensation between his legs. He heard Jordan mumble, “Relax cowboy, I’ll take care of this.” Daniel glanced at the clock. It was twelve minutes past midnight.
Daniel could feel the familiar sensation that could bring him close to ecstasy. Sex with Jordan was beyond description. “Whoa, give me a little break between, would ya?” he smiled. “Man, you can go full throttle for hours, but I need to come up for air.”
Jordan looked up sheepishly. “Do you miss me when you’re down there in Austin with all those politicians?” Jordan asked.
“When I’m in Austin, I’m working,” Daniel answered.
Jordan lay silent, but quietly seethed. “Have you given any more thought to our living together?” He finally broke the silence.
“Not really, Jordan. Was I supposed to?” Daniel asked. “I thought you were clear that I didn’t want that kind of commitment. We get together when we want, and I don’t want to mess it up by moving too quickly.”
“Well, you are, and I don’t want to feel like I’m on hold forever,” Jordan whispered. He rolled onto his side and watched the steady rise and fall of Daniel’s chest as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Jordan slipped off the side of the bed carefully. Daniel was undisturbed as he murmured slightly and turned onto his back. His legs were spread and his hands were tucked behind his head under his pillow. A soft light from the bedside lamp cast shadows across Daniel’s amazing torso. Jordan smiled slightly, reached into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out his smart phone. What better time to capture this in pictures, he thought. He snapped several pictures of Daniel’s nude sleeping body and checked the time as he pocketed his phone. Still time for a couple of drinks, he thought as he tucked in his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and checked himself out in the bathroom mirror.
“Vision of Self,” book four and the conclusion of the ‘Journey of Self’ series, gay romantic fiction by David Edmondson, is available exclusively from Amazon (Amazon Unlimited). Also available in print from Amazon. The previous three books in the series are also now offered by Amazon Unlimited. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.
With the majority of its population male, Clarke’s Pointe is sure to be filled with opportunities for a lot of man-on-man action, or at least that’s what Jeffrey Martin thinks when he receives an offer to relocate to the artist colony in Delaware. The opportunity is too good to pass up for the part-time actor whose dream is to perform full-time on stage. Leaving the frigid winters of Minnesota for the Atlantic shore, he packs up his belongings and heads out, but not before he convinces a couple of fellow thespians to go with him. Jeff is in his element living among fellow lovers of the theatre, not to mention fellow worshipers of the god Priapus, and he can’t imagine anything going awry in this place that’s nothing short of paradise.
Jeff stripped down to his powder blue shorts, pulled the comforter over him, and quickly dozed off. Egoistic dreams filled his nap time. He saw himself on stage playing the lead in ‘Man of La Mancha’ and performing ‘The Elephant Man’ screaming ‘I am not an animal. I am a man.’ The sound of his doorbell disturbed these utopian dreams. Opening the door, a young man handed him a bouquet of red roses. He was rather attractive and Jeff couldn’t help but make a pass. “From you? You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t. I can’t afford to be sending guys I don’t know a dozen roses.”
“But if you knew me and loved me, you would, right?”
It was obvious that he was making the young man nervous. “Well, come in. What is it, about 5 below?”
“Something like that. I can’t wait to get home and get warm.”
“Well, let me get my wallet so I can give you a tip, unless you’d like to slip me your tip and the rest of what you’ve got.”
“You’re putting me on. A hot guy like you! My girlfriend won’t even offer to do that.”
“I will, and I don’t even love you.”
“Let me go park the delivery van. I’ll be right back.”
While he was outside, Jeff put the roses in a vase. His mom did remember him after all. He read the card: ‘To the love of my life, Mom.’ He smiled. Unknown to her, she had sent him a nicer present – a hot young delivery man.
Ross invited Robbie into Room 324. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out.” Five minutes later, he emerged totally nude, revealing a body that got Robbie’s blood pumping. Pleased that Robbie wasn’t wearing underwear, he kissed him as he slid off the vest. “I’m going to get on the bed and I want you to look through the bag on the dresser. Feel free to use anything you want.”
Some of the things Robbie had only seen in sex videos. Now he was with a guy who wanted to experience them all. “You like these things, don’t you?”
That sir told Robbie what role he was going to play in their little fantasy. “So were you a bad boy in New York? Tell me the truth. Did you do things you wouldn’t be proud of?”
“I was on the ferry going to the Statue of Liberty. There was this one sailor. He looked so hot in his whites that I had to have him.”
“And I spent the night in the West Side Sauna. Two guys had their way with me, and I loved it. Then while I was recovering, an old guy with white hair and a goatee came in just for me. I did it just like you taught me, and mouthed the words you always said to turn me on. You were the best teacher.”
Robbie erotically licked his way up the center of Ross’s torso.
Purchase ‘Clarke’s Pointe’ from Amazon by clicking on the cover above.
As the fashion-conscious homosexual that I am, in my head I have a matching set of clothing for every man I’ve ever been with. And yes, “been with” is a euphemism for sex. Before recalling the men in my life, dragging them out of my closet and airing them on the line for all to see, I thought it would only be fair to have one of my past lovers describe me in clothing. What follows is his response, unedited and unapologetic, much like him: “In the closet of my love life, you would be a pair of fitted, designer blue jeans – expensive and engineered to accentuate the bits you’re proud of while hiding the bits that you’re not. Below the jeans would be a saucy pair of modern, black, Italian leather shoes, well-worn and perfect for dancing. Under the jeans is a pair of forty dollar Calvins. Above is a tailored pin-striped shirt that you bought to make yourself look taller. P.S. You’re not short, you only think you are. The only accessory is a wristwatch that looks expensive but wasn’t. You hate being late. You think the idea of Queer Standard Time is appalling and reinforces a bad stereotype. In fact, you insist on being early for everything and bounce around like a little waist-coated white rabbit when others make you late.”
That’s not how I would introduce myself, but that’s the point. Before I start unabashedly gossiping about the men who have been in my life, in clothes and out, I thought it only fair to give myself the same treatment. Now comes the fun part. Without further delay, I present to you, in chronological order, the men in Randy Talbot’s closet.
Se7en was an underground club and it sounded like the party was well underway by the time we got there. We grabbed each others’ hands and went down the steamy, dark rabbit hole together.
“Cover is twenty dollars,” the goth door attendant barked at us as he checked our IDs.
“Evan, didn’t you say it shouldn’t be more than ten?”
“Oh, tonight’s our special anniversary,” said the attendant, a crooked smile curling on his blackened lips. “Seven years at this location. It’s quite the party in there.”
We briefly discussed going somewhere else, but we were already there, so we bit the bullet, paid, got our hands stamped, and crossed into the unknown. The thick, inky satin curtain dividing coat check from the rest of the club may as well have been a wormhole into another universe. We froze before taking three steps inside and surveyed the landscape: black leather harnesses, vinyl clothing, rubber gloves, glow sticks, back hair, chains, and gas masks paraded before us under a shifting net of green laser lights that zapped through a fog of dry ice and perspiration. Then there was us. I wore my standard “little black dress” – a black spandex t-shirt and fitted black slacks. Evan wore a skin-tight metallic gold t-shirt and jeans, and Andy’s outfit was something like mine.
“Oh!” Evan exclaimed, clasping his hands together like some kid on Christmas morning. “This is going to be sooooo much fun!” He bounced into the room and introduced himself to a rather hirsute man in ass-less chaps. The remaining three of us huddled together, looking at each other with our mouths agape.
The night didn’t go badly at all. Evan and I stuck together for pretty much the entire night and he eventually poured enough liquor down my throat to get me dancing to the hellish trance music. By midnight, hunky Kevin was wearing a dog collar and getting led around by an enormous muscular man who might have been around thirty, and he seemed to be enjoying it. Andy had his face covered with neon war paint and was chatting with a svelte young man whose nipples were pierced and chained together. Another chain ran down his torso and disappeared behind the waist of his black leather pants where I imagine it was attached to something else.
Evan only left my side once to go to the washroom. By that time we had already shared many kisses, but when he got back he seemed a little too energized. I could tell he was into me before, but whatever he had downed in the washroom shattered what was left of his inhibitions. And don’t misunderstand. The attraction was by no means one-way. Evan was one hot little number.
Last call came and went. Andy had already left on the arm of an exotic-looking creature with a green mohawk. Kevin had lost his “owner” but retained his collar and a phone number. The three of us split a cab back to campus. Evan was all over me in the back seat and I can’t say I was doing much to stop him.
“Geez, get a room, you two,” said Kevin.
“That’s the plaaaaaaan,” said Evan, taking a break from tonguing my ear. “Besides,” he said, sliding his hand under my shirt. “You don’t know where my dorm is. And, right now, neither do I.” Then he laughed like he had just cracked the funniest joke ever.
“Randy Talbot’s Closet,” humorous m/m erotic romance by Randy Talbot, is available from Apple, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand, All Romance ebooks, Kobo, Google, and Coffeetime Romance. Print Book is available from Amazon. Our website is http://www.beautobeau.com.