Only ten more days before Here For Us lands on your e-readers! I'm so excited for this book to finally come out. To get you revved up for it, here's a very NSFW first chapter of my forthcoming March/May/September menage romance. Enjoy!
Chapter One
I need to
fucking get laid.
The thought followed Cris Sable through the heavy
industrial door that hid the throbbing interior of Big Dick’s, the most popular
gay nightclub in Harrisburg. The place was hard to find if you didn’t know
where it was, or if you didn’t know the big muscle bear sitting by the entrance
was a bouncer. Cris hadn’t been to the club in over a year, mostly by choice,
but tonight he needed something.
Definitely a drink, although he’d have to limit
himself now that he was functioning with one kidney. And, if possible, he
wanted to leave with a willing ass to fuck. It had been a long dry spell.
A dry spell of his own making, but still, a guy
had needs, and he wasn’t looking to get his needs met by a woman tonight.
Tonight he needed dick.
He eased his way over to the bar and ordered a
margarita on the rocks. Something he could work his way through slowly. The
club was in full swing, bodies gyrating on the dance floor, men dry humping
their way through the evening. Soon early morning. At the rear of the dance
floor, six go-go dancers were on risers, each decked out in one color of the
rainbow. Barely-there briefs in a solid color, sparkle body paint all over
their chests and legs, and some dancers even had colorful streaks in their
hair. Monday was theme night for the go-go dancers, which explained why there
were so many. On the other nights of the week that Cris had visited, the club
usually only had three dancers.
Cris zeroed in on the dancer in blue. He loved the
color blue, and this kid was pretty fucking hot in a royal blue thong, with
blue swirls across his pecs and shoulders. Something kind of tribal and arty. He
spun around to shake his ass, showing off very taut blue-painted cheeks. Even
from the distance, he was cute. The kind of cute Cris liked to wrangle around
in bed and fuck through the mattress.
Occasionally, a hand would rise from the crowd
with money in it, and the blue dancer squatted low enough for the money to be
tucked away in their underwear. Very strip club-esque, but Big Dick’s had a
strict policy about not touching the dancers for longer than it took to tip
them.
He scanned the other dancers’ faces and froze
solid at the guy at the end. Despite the yellow paint, Cris knew that nearly naked
body intimately enough to see past the costume and recognize Colby. Not his
real name, and Cris didn’t know what it was, but they’d filmed together at Mean
Green Boys roughly two years ago. Colby was only with the company for a few
months before he quit to be with his boyfriend.
Cris had been intensely jealous at the time. At
twenty-eight years old, he’d failed to find and maintain a serious relationship
for longer than six months. And even that relationship had imploded when she
found out he did gay porn. Okay, so he shouldn’t have kept that a secret for so
long. He’d been so damned happy to find someone who understood and accepted he
was bisexual that he’d been scared to destroy it too soon by admitting to the
porn.
But secrets never did a relationship any good, and
Lily had dumped his ass hard.
He’d taken a two year hiatus from porn after that,
hoping to try and rebuild his flailing love life, before returning to Mean
Green. The studio owner, Chet Green, was one of his closest friends—hence the
very secret reason for his single remaining kidney.
“Hello, gorgeous.” A slinky number in leather
pants and a silver mesh shirt slid up to Cris at the bar. Cute, kohl-lined
eyes, plump lips that promised they knew how to suck a dick.
Cris grinned. “Who, me?”
“Oh, honey, we both know you’re the sexiest thing
in the club tonight.” A warm arm draped over his shoulders. “Name’s Luke.”
“Cris.”
“Hmm, I think you look more like a Vincent.”
Cris tensed. No fucking way could this random guy
know who he was. There was no hint of malice in his easy grin, no sign the name
was anything other than a really good guess. Cris came from an Italian family
from Long Island, and the genes were pretty strong. He’d rid himself of his identifying
accent years ago, though, thank Christ.
“Or Vincenzo, or Anthony,” the kid said, oblivious
to Cris’s racing thoughts.
“Well, it’s Cris.” Rude, fine, but he’d lost any
interest in Luke. Cristian Sable was his identity now. “See you around.”
Cris pushed away from the bar and eased his way
into the crowd occupying the fringes of the dance floor. A few blatant offers
came his way, but Cris turned them all down. He didn’t realize he’d inched closer
to the risers and his blue dancer until the guy was less than ten feet away.
Blue had a face that was both easygoing and sharp.
He was enjoying himself without totally letting his guard down. And he was
hella cute. Fuckable for sure.
Bodies danced frenetically all around him,
allowing Cris to stay close to the wall and shift nearer to Blue. Someone held up
a bill between two fingers. Blue wiggled his hips and squatted low so the money
could be tucked into his g-string. The triangle of blue material held a very
promising package for a smaller guy.
Blue blew a kiss to his patron, then spun in an
ass-wiggling circle. His dark gaze roamed the crowd, then paused on Cris. An
unexpected thrill shot through him. Some sort of instinctive acknowledgement of
the man on the stage, as if they’d been waiting to meet. Blue held eye contact;
Cris drew out a long, lazy smile. Blue cocked his head, winked, and then kept
dancing. Cris stayed in his spot. Every few minutes, Blue glanced his way.
Right into his eyes.
Target
acquired.
The dancers came and went from the risers, likely
taking breaks in between sets. When Blue winked again and disappeared, Cris had
half a mind to try and find him. Except he didn’t work at the club, and he had
no real excuse to get backstage. Cris sipped his watered-down margarita and
watched the eye candy on display. The gorgeous men, the throbbing music, and
the heady scents of sweat and sex worked their magic on Cris, and he was
half-hard by the time a brown-haired kid with a smear of blue under both eyes
sidled up next to him.
Cris studied the familiar face, now scrubbed clean
except for those two very appealing smudges. His hair maintained hints of blue
glitter. He’d covered that amazing body with jeans and a white sleeveless tee,
but this was Cris’s dancer. Blue.
“You off the clock?” Cris asked.
“Yup.” He grabbed Cris’s glass and finished it off
with a smirk that did funny things to Cris’s balls. “Damn, I think I owe you a
drink.”
He laughed. “Cris.”
“Jake.” He snagged Cris’s belt and tugged him
toward the bar.
The forwardness was a huge fucking turn on, and Cris’s
cock was at full mast by the time they reached the bar. An older man in a
sparkly vest smiled at them.
“Two margaritas on the rocks,” Jake said. “My
tab.”
“On it,” the bartender said.
Cris rested one hand on Jake’s lower back, and he
was surprised by the tiny thrill that vibrated up his arm. Jake pressed into
his touch, eyelids fluttering as if he’d felt something similar. Cris leaned in
to whisper in his ear, “Blue is my favorite color.”
Jake looked up, big brown eyes glimmering with
mischief. “Oh yeah?”
“Definitely. It looks good on you.”
“Know what else would look good on me?”
Cris saw the flirty line coming, but he played
along. “What’s that?”
“You.”
He nuzzled Jake’s ear with his nose. “I agree.”
The bartender slid their drinks over. Jake gulped
his, while Cris only sipped. And studied his future sex partner. A good six
inches shorter than him, and slimmer all over. Dance-honed muscles. Tight jeans
that did nothing to hide his erection. A very One Direction boyish hotness
about him that made Cris want to fuck him senseless.
“I’d ask if you want to dance,” Jake said, “but
you didn’t bust a move all night.”
“Not much of a dancer.”
“No good?”
“I’m plenty good.” Cris put a little leer into
those words. “But I don’t like using dancing as foreplay. I’d rather play in private.”
Jake pressed his hard dick against Cris’s thigh,
amusement dancing in his eyes. His voice was crazy sexy in a way that Cris
couldn’t describe, but he liked it. “So I’m guessing you aren’t a fan of the
bathroom with the favors?”
Big Dick’s had two bathrooms for its patrons, and rumor
had it that the bathroom on the left had a bowl of condoms and lube sachets for
patrons. Folks interested in a quick—and safe—fuck with a stranger. The
bathroom on the right was for regular business.
“Nope.” Cris slid his hand from Jake’s lower back
to grab his ass. “I prefer a nice big bed where I can have my way with someone
for a few hours. Upright in a bathroom stall is over too fast.”
Jake swallowed hard, his cheeks pinking up.
“Sounds like an adventure.”
“You up for it?”
“What do you think?” He ground his dick into Cris’s
thigh. “Think I’m up for it?”
“I might need more convincing.”
Jake grabbed at Cris’s erection and squeezed, the
contact sending happy sparklers down Cris’s spine. He really liked Jake
touching him. “I’d suck you right here but Richard frowns on public displays of
fellatio.”
Cris didn’t know who Richard was, and he didn’t
care. Owner or manager, probably. His only priority was getting Jake naked in
his bed. He pushed his mostly full glass away. “Then let’s get out of here
before you get in trouble with your boss.”
Jake gulped his margarita, then plunked his glass
on the bar. “Lead the way.”
He did.
The cool night air did nothing to ease his
throbbing dick, nor did the long walk to his car. Jake kept close, their arms
brushing, but otherwise not touching. The city was still alive and well all
around them, and while Cris was big and imposing enough that few people ever
bothered him, Jake walked with purpose. Aware of everyone they passed. He’d
danced the exact same way: wary of the world.
Cris silently promised to help Jake forget those
shadows that made him walk through life like it would turn against him at any
moment. Even if only for a few hours.
The instant they were in his car and Cris had it
aimed toward his apartment, Jake reached over and undid his fly. Stunned at the
kid’s brazenness, Cris didn’t protest. He kept three-quarters of his attention
on the road, while the rest watched—and felt—Jake tug his dick out of his
boxer-briefs. Jake’s touch felt like a brand on already sensitive skin.
“Uncut,” Jake whispered. “Very nice.”
Cris’s pulse raced at the compliment. Most of the
chicks he’d slept with had been initially turned off by his foreskin. They were
used to seeing cut dicks. Dudes were way more appreciative.
Jake played with his dick, sliding the foreskin in
a slow, lazy way that barely kept Cris from driving them into a telephone pole.
Jake kept hold the entire ten minute drive, a long descent into madness that
nearly had Cris demanding Jake suck him off already. His orgasm teetered on the
edge without getting close enough to tip him over.
He pulled into the underground parking and into a
space between two SUV’s. The vehicles would provide great camouflage for a blow
job, but Jake proved just how sadistic he was by letting go. He flashed Cris a
wicked grin. Wicked and challenging.
This is
going to be fun.
Cris tucked himself back in, which was not an easy
feat thanks to Jake’s teasing. Even in the privacy of the elevator, Jake stayed
hands-off. Cris led him down the corridor to his apartment, unlocked it, and
let them inside.
The moment he locked the door behind them, Jake spun
and yanked his head down. The faint taste of lime and tequila filled Cris’s
mouth. A very insistent tongue stroked past his lips, teasing and seeking. The
spark was immediate and dizzying, electric everywhere they touched.
Cris spun them. He pushed Jake against the door,
holding him there with a thigh between his legs. Jake humped his thigh while he
devoured his mouth with a very talented tongue that Cris couldn’t wait to feel
against his dick.
The desperate kiss softened by degrees. Cris
dragged his lips along Jake’s jaw, tasting sweat and soap, then down to nibble
at his earlobe. Jake shoved his hands past Cris’s belt to grab both cheeks. The
small huffs and groans encouraged Cris to play with Jake’s ear some more. Suck
the lobe. Lick the delicate shell.
“Fuck,” Jake said.
Cris chuckled. “Soon.”
“Bed.”
That he could do. He untangled them, grabbed
Jake’s wrist, and led him across the small living room to the single bedroom.
Flipped the light on. Jake gazed around. Cris wasn’t big on useless objects, so
the room had furniture and a mirror. A lamp. A TV and blue-ray player. Little
else beyond some dirty clothes he hadn’t put in the hamper.
Cris fished a condom and lube out of the
nightstand and tossed them up near the pillows. Jake followed their trajectory,
then toed off his sneakers. Cris did the same, shucking his clothes as
expediently as possible, because hot, cute boy. Near his bed. Also getting
naked fast.
This was the fun kind of sex. Chemistry, intent,
no cameras or director reminding him not to block the come shot. Cris had every
intention of coming inside Jake tonight.
Before Cris could haul Jake in for another kiss,
Jake dropped to his knees and licked up the length of Cris’s cock. The slick
touch spread a wonderful warmth through his belly and chest, that only
intensified when Jake nibbled on his foreskin. He bit and played until Cris
almost couldn’t stand it, before sucking him down onto wet heat.
“Fuck.” Cris sifted his fingers through Jake’s
soft hair, holding on without hurting, because damn. Jake’s tongue dragged up
and down the underside of Cris’s cock, an amazing sensation that made Cris’s
eyes want to roll back in his head. Except he couldn’t stop watching Jake. His
stretched lips and hollowed cheeks. The intense way Jake went about blowing
him. Cris could watch this all day long and never tire of it.
He’d never been so mesmerized by a sex partner
sucking him as he was with Jake, and he didn’t ponder the meaning behind that.
Only that holy damn, it felt good.
Too much, too fast had Cris’s orgasm teetering too
close. He nudged Jake off, then ran a thumb over his glistening lips. “Your
turn. On the bed.”
Jake grinned, licked his thumb, and then did as
told. He spread out on his back, hands behind his head, so perfectly wanton
that Cris wanted to devour him. To lick every inch of skin, tease every curve
and plane of muscle. He also desperately wanted in that taut little ass, and
that took priority over exploration tonight.
Maybe Jake would be up for a repeat.
Cris knelt between his spread legs, admiring the
boy on his bed. He rubbed his palms up Jake’s legs, from calf to thigh,
enjoying the perfectly smooth skin. The way muscles jumped beneath his touch.
Jake’s cock lay flat against his stomach, long and hard with a lovely mushroom
head. Fun to play with and play Cris did. Licking around the glans, nibbling up
and down the shaft, nosing at the root. Putting Jake’s scent and taste
everywhere.
Jake’s thighs trembled. Hands in Cris’s hair kept
trying to direct him, get him to suck already, but Cris was stronger. He flattened
Jake’s hands to the bed on either side of Jake’s hips, then returned to his
oral assault until Jake started cussing at him.
He looked up into frenzied eyes that dared him to
keep teasing. Cris winked, then sucked Jake’s length down. Jake hollered, and Cris
nearly crowed at the sound. He loved making his partner fall apart, frenzied
with need, long before the fucking began. Hard pulls up and down, sometimes
scraping with his teeth. Jake pumped his hips, trying to fuck Cris’s mouth.
“Fuck, please,” Jake said on a gasp.
Cris pulled off. “Not yet.”
He released Jake’s hands so he could push his legs
back, tilting Jake’s hips and exposing his hole.
Jake made a desperate noise. “Yes.”
“You like getting your asshole licked?”
“Fuck yes.”
Cris flicked the tip of his tongue against the puckered
muscle, the barest touch.
Jake’s hips jerked. “Bastard.”
He bit Jake’s left cheek, earning a surprised yelp
that settled into a long moan. A second flicker of his tongue. Another hip
jerk. Cris entertained himself with the tease, alternating long swipes with
short flicks, playing Jake’s body for all he was worth, because damn, the kid
was responsive. Jake never stopped making noise, never stopped thrashing and
begging for more, and each little sound made Cris harder. Sent him higher.
Cris snagged the lube without missing a beat.
Slicked up a finger while he ate Jake’s hole, softening him for the surprise.
He lifted his head to watch Jake’s face as he pressed that finger inside.
Jake’s eyes went wide, mouth falling open in a long, desperate gasp. He humped Cris’s
finger, so Cris fucked him with it, slow at first. A gentle tease, waiting for
a sign from Jake.
The moment Jake lifted his head high enough to
meet his gaze, brown eyes simmering with lust and need, Cris fucked him harder.
Jake’s eyes rolled back when he added a second finger, fucking him to the last
knuckle, driving Jake higher with only his hand. No sounds beyond Jake’s gasps
and cries and the slip slap of skin on skin.
Jake raised his head with effort, cheeks stained red,
and gasped, “Another one.”
Something inside of Cris twisted up tight at the
absolute trust shining in Jake’s eyes. The need for more, to climb higher,
believing Cris could take him there. Three fingers took a little work and a lot
of patience. He watched Jake’s face for any sign that it was too much, too
painful, but Jake panted and gasped and pushed down. Urging him. Precome
smeared Jake’s belly where his cock dragged on every thrust.
Cris’s own cock was painfully tight, desperate to
relieve the pressure building deep inside.
“Oh fuck,” Jake said. “Oh shit.” He grabbed his
dick and hadn’t pulled three strokes before he clamped down hard on Cris’s
fingers and shot across his own belly and chest. A blob of white even landed on
his chin. Cris stilled his hand while Jake came down from his high, thighs trembling
with aftershocks over what looked like a doozy of an orgasm.
Cris gently removed his fingers and wiped them on
his thigh, uncertain if he could still—
“Fuck me.” Jake held his legs back, keeping
position, sleepy-eyed but determined. “You can.”
Cris didn’t need a second invitation. He gloved up
and pushed inside in one smooth stroke that made Jake moan. So good, so loose
and ready for him, and it took maybe a dozen hard thrusts for Cris to fall over
the edge in a blast of pleasure that lit him up from his toes to his scalp.
He had enough sense to pull out and put Jake’s
legs down before collapsing on top of the smaller man. Jake draped loose arms
around his waist and tucked his head beneath Cris’s chin. Warm breath tickled Cris’s
sweaty chest, cooling the skin. Some guys didn’t like to cuddle after sex, but Cris
did; especially if he felt an actual connection to his partner. And boy howdy,
he felt something with Jake. And judging by the way Jake had burrowed in close,
he felt something, too.
“You can stay,” Cris whispered, the room too quiet
for full volume.
“Okay.”
Cris reluctantly left Jake’s embrace. In the bathroom,
Cris wiped off, then brought a warm washcloth and clean towel into the bedroom.
Jake was still boneless, so he let Cris clean off his chest, then roll him over
and gently do the same for his ass. Cris kissed each butt cheek. Then Jake’s
mouth, where he lingered for a long time.
Eventually, they ended up under the covers with
the light out.
Jake curled up against him, head resting on Cris’s
shoulder, one arm slung across Cris’s chest. All kinds of compliments rattled
around in Cris’s head, but the easy silence didn’t require them. The sex had
been mind-blowing for them both. That much was obvious.
Maybe he could talk Jake into another date over
breakfast. He dozed on that happy thought….
….only to wake with morning sunshine streaming in
through open curtains. The other side of the bed was empty and cold.
Jake was gone.
And an hour later, Cris realized, so was his
wallet.
#
(c) A.M. Arthur 2017
