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Shifter Safe Haven S4

SCENE FOUR

Seven stood in the doorway of the study, envelope in hand as he hesitated at the threshold. He just got there, but what it took to move now he was in sight of Blackwell felt too much. Mail was to be brought at 4 pm sharp. It was 4:23. It would not be unnoticed. It would not be unpunished.

The study was dimly lit and full of books and occult instruments. A stunning rug of indigo with intricate patterns stretched beneath Blackwell’s feet, and far from the fireplace a beautiful, solid wood desk sat. Seven barely saw the room. He was going to be punished. He knew it as assuredly as he felt the displeasure rolling off of his master through their bond. Rarely did Seven see Blackwell and not be punished. If not with pain or degrading acts, then the far more heart twisting reminder he could never leave. Seven would always return to this room and to this horrible man.

“You’re late. I called for you over fifteen minutes ago.” Blackwell didn’t turn, content to stare at the flames of the fireplace from his seat.

Seven took a deep breath and forced his legs to move. He didn’t tremble anymore. He had no anger left to shield and ultimately tear him in every struggle for freedom. He learned to erase all feeling from his very being along with the memories of who he once was. It was easier. It was easier to be nothing, than to be someone while a slave to a sorcerer.

Randal Blackwell was not a man accustomed to waiting. Patience didn’t grow with long age, not after the hundred and twenty-seven years he lived. If anything, he found his expectations and need for structure to be more rigid as each year passed. Blackwell’s magic was strong. He was powerful enough to preserve his appearance and health while weaker sorcerers aged, decayed and died. He was considered to be the top sorcerer in all of North America. Sure, there were a few rogues steeped in the dark arts who might possess superior abilities, but they weren’t practicing commercially. If they weren’t direct competition, they weren’t worth considering.

Blackwell amassed a fortune by casting for men with political sway as powerful as he was magical. It gave him an edge. He was protected from laws, protected from prosecution. He never slipped, but if the impossible did occur and he was caught, Blackwell knew he would never see the inside of a jail cell. He was untouchable.

Still, his sweet-tempered demon disobeyed.

Seven glided cautiously into the study and stood to the side of his master’s chair. He didn’t dare block Blackwell’s view of the fire; he was clearly in a mood. “Forgive me, Master. I was watching…”

“The rats. Yes, I’m aware.” Blackwell’s fingers twitched on the armrest. “I keep toying with the idea of getting a cat, but I fear you’d keep the creature from hunting with all your fussing.” Not to mention, he’d probably never see the demon at all if Seven had a pet to chase around. He was far too distractible as it was. Blackwell waved his hand and beckoned him closer. “Have you succeeded in your mission?”

Seven crossed the small space and knelt nude at Blackwell’s feet. His long red hair cascaded like silk on the floor as he pressed lips to the toe of his master’s shoe. Unlike the more brutish, leather-winged demons, Seven was an elegance of black, feathery wings, dark curl of horns, and long serpentine tail. His lithe body flexed gracefully and submitted when Blackwell pushed his head down roughly with the flat of his shoe. Seven kept his bright blue gaze fixed on the floor patiently as he was held down.

He was the prize piece of Blackwell’s demon collection. Seven’s beauty was unmatched but it wasn’t his true value to Blackwell. Seven was able to become intangible at will. It allowed him to slip unseen and untouched where no one else could travel. He was his thief, and when information was needed, his eyes and ears. Possibly more unique was Seven’s sweet, affectionate personality. Blackwell admitted to the poor habit of spoiling the gentle pet when he would harshly discipline his other slaves for the same lax behavior.

When the shoe was removed from his head, Seven held the envelope up to Blackwell. He kept his eyes averted from his master’s roaming gaze. Blackwell broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope with a manicured fingernail. He skimmed the missive quickly, then tucked it into his pocket. “Another taken.”

“Master?” Seven queried, unsure if he was speaking to him or to himself. It was a mistake; Blackwell grabbed him painfully by the chin and pulled him up.

“Do you know how difficult it is to find these useless little cats, my pet?” The question was rhetorical, no answer actually wanted. Blackwell teased fingers through Seven’s blood-red hair, then tightened his hold on his chin. He smirked at the demon’s noise of pain. “Yes, I am well compensated for my efforts but for how long when these imbecilic socialites can’t hold onto the dreadful, flea infested creatures? Their failures always lead to complaints. I do hate complaints, Seven.”

“Yes, Master,” Seven whispered, his words muffled when his head was forced down and face pressed against expensive slacks.

Blackwell continued to stroke his head as he muttered bitterly aloud. “It’s more than that; this is a challenge. Some meddlesome leech is out there feeding off my hard labor. What is he, keeping the cats for himself? Stealing them once they’re sold and then selling them again? Whatever he makes is owed me. I do not allow resale of my labor; I would rather kill the troublesome creatures.”

His fingers tightened in Seven’s hair and Blackwell pulled him up roughly to stare into the demon’s troubled, bright blue eyes. His dark gaze lingered on Seven’s flawless face and paused on the furrow of pain to his brow and the way his flushed lips were parted. “Are you in need, pet? I think a distraction is in order after such foul news. I cannot recall the last time you fed.”

Seven swallowed hard and tried to keep his expression impassive as he dared to meet the cruel eyes of his master. Randal Blackwell’s long, silver hair was kept in a neat ponytail at his nape, his facial hair groomed to perfection, and his eyes so black they rivaled the demons Seven grew up among. Blackwell never gave without pain; he never took without it either. Seven still hurt from his last feeding and wasn’t in a hurry to repeat it.

“It was only yesterday, Master. I do not hunger,” Seven said as emotionlessly as possible.

“That you are fed at all is only due to my generosity.” Blackwell’s reminder was a dangerous purr, and his hand tightened painfully in his hair.

Seven blanched as he realized his mistake. “Of course, Master. I’m grateful not to starve. No master is as generous as you. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.”

“No?” Blackwell’s grip loosened and his fingers slid down. He pressed his thumb to Seven’s lips until the lush flesh yielded. “Then feed, my pet. In my entire collection, I personally feed you. Show me how grateful you are to have been gifted such a generous master.”

Seven whimpered as his face was roughly pressed down the front of Blackwell’s pants. He knew his master only fed him because he sustained off of sex while other demons needed blood. Blackwell would never be so generous to open a vein for his slaves. Seven nuzzled into the bulge growing on the other side of the fabric, his eyes closed tight to hide his relief. Rarely did a blowjob lead to pain, unlike the other ways Blackwell took him. As long as he played his part, it would be over in minutes and he wouldn’t have to return to this room for another twenty-four hours.

“Hands,” Blackwell ordered. Seven obediently slipped them behind his back and wrapped his tail around his arms to keep them in place. One of his horns was held tight while Blackwell unzipped. There was a rustle of fabric and his dusky tipped dick sprang free and jolted Seven on his cheek. Seven quickly took a breath, knowing he would be unlikely to get another as his both his horns were locked in Blackwell’s grip. He was pulled down, his lips stretching to take the cock pushed abruptly into his mouth.

Seven kept as pliant as possible. He knew what Blackwell preferred after all these years. His participation in the act wasn’t required, just his gasps for air and hot tears when he choked. Blackwell liked to know he suffered, his throat raw with each brutal thrust of his dick. Seven released a pained cry when his hair was twisted hard. He hoped it would be enough, but wasn’t surprised when Blackwell’s hand reached for his neck. Long, cruel fingers wrapped tight around his throat and bruised his porcelain flesh.

Seven could feel the anger in the grip. He whimpered and struggled not to fight back or pull away when his air was cut off completely from the painful hold and the thick cock dripping wet in his mouth. Blackwell would make it worse if he fought. Seven might fear him, but over the last ten years enslaved to the sorcerer, he had yet to be killed. Seven opened wider and stayed as still as possible as Blackwell thrust deep, careless pumps against his tonsils, his cock head jarring against the back of his throat erratically. With a groan, Blackwell pulled him tight while surging forward. He sank his cock deep into Seven’s throat and held there while the demon dripped tears and saliva.

“Yes. Don’t fucking move.” Blackwell stared down into his eyes, watching Seven’s face flush with his need for oxygen. “Grip it. Deeper. Tighter.”

There was no way to do both with his mouth open so wide to take him in deep. Seven ran his tongue sloppily over the underside of Blackwell’s shaft, relieved to feel his heavy length thrum as he got closer. Maybe it was the pulse of his own heartbeat. Things were getting hazy and Seven could no longer feel the fingers biting into his neck or the saliva dripping crystal down his chin.

“Hold. Like that.”

Seven’s sway was stopped by the wrench to his hair. Blackwell’s cock swelled in deep his throat, and he grunted as he jerked streams of cum against the back of Seven’s throat. He held him there, Seven’s nose crushed to his navel as he ground hard like he was trying to ingrain the pattern of his cock into his flesh.

Seven rumbled deep in his chest as power zinged through him with every drop of seed. He didn’t need energy but his throat convulsed and he drank it down eagerly. He loved the taste, the texture, the buzz; he loved everything about the life giving nectar he fed from. Yes, blood could sustain him but it was nothing compared to the wild high he got from cum.

Seven gagged and tears streamed down his face as the fingers around his throat tightened. Heat rose through him and Seven’s vision dimmed. He struggled to stay conscious. He couldn’t pass out. If he spilled a drop of cum, Blackwell would rage about the waste and his immaculate clothes being ruined. It was just a wave of magic to clean any stains away, but his master enjoyed his games.

“Good, Seven. Very good.” Blackwell’s thumb stroked down the side of his throat. “Swallow your reward, my pet.” His fingers reluctantly released Seven’s neck and he smoothed over the pattern of bruises while Seven swallowed down what was left of Blackwell’s seed between gasps for air. There was no time to recover; three of Blackwell’s fingers shoved between Seven’s swollen lips and reached as deep as he could get.

Seven groaned at the new intrusion. He swayed dizzily and saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth as Blackwell continued to fuck his lips raw. It didn’t matter; it was nearly over. He just needed to wait it out and he’d be free for hours.

“You are beautiful, my pet. It must be why I put up with your constant disappointments,” Blackwell mused. He used his free hand to comb through Seven’s blood-red tangle of hair. “The others are jealous of the attention I give you. They don’t think you deserve it, pet, not when you don’t join them in their raids. Thirteen, in particular, seems very upset with you.”

Seven’s gaze focused blearily on Blackwell’s knee as thick fingers continued to thrust into his mouth. Dread tightened in the pit of his stomach and quickly churned to something unbearable. He heard the promise of punishment clear in his master’s voice. Not done. Not done yet.

Blackwell curled his wet fingers and scraped down Seven’s throat as he tried to make him gag. “I have a plan, my pet. I think I know how to get Thirteen to appreciate your gifts better.” Seven closed his eyes to block out his impassive stare. He didn’t have to turn when the quiet sound of padding bare feet reached his ears. He knew it was the powerful, gray skinned demon with burning red eyes and long, leathery wings.

Thirteen was the newest to the ranks and already caused quite a stir with Blackwell. He was powerful, brutal and so eager to kill; everything Seven wasn’t. Everything Seven despised. Blackwell knew. Seven hadn’t been blind to the dark, hungry look in his master’s eyes whenever he noticed Thirteen glaring at his sweet demon pet.

“Sorcerer slut.” Thirteen was careful to growl in their demonic language so Blackwell wouldn’t understand. His glare burned over Seven’s naked body where he knelt on the floor with mouth open wide as he choked on Blackwell’s fingers. “You let this human fuck you. It would be better to kill yourself, you pathetic waste. You are no demon.”

Seven did his best to focus on every small gasp of air he could drag in and not Thirteen’s words. Even if he could have spoken in that moment, Thirteen was too proud to listen. He was too new to understand what life on Earth was like. There had been no choice once Blackwell collared him. Death. Death was not a choice but an inevitability he would not rush toward. As long as he held life within him, Seven would seek the light he could of each moment. Life was precious, sacred, and fleeting for so many. Seven didn’t kill; surely the last scrap of his sanity was in his refusal to take another’s life for his master. Something Thirteen couldn’t say for even his short time there.

“Get up, my pet.” Blackwell removed his fingers from Seven’s mouth and wiped the wet digits on his throat to smear on his skin. His thumb came up again to run over Seven’s bruised bottom lip before he let him stand. “Kneel on the carpet with your face to me so I can see your expression. Spread your knees wide and get down on your hands.” Blackwell’s eyes didn’t move from Seven as he watched him sink to the floor with his ass up in the air. “Good. Is it too hard for your skin, pretty pet?”

Seven panted softly, his unfocused eyes turned in the direction of the elaborately woven carpet. “It’s fine,” he answered as blandly as possible. He knew Blackwell was only trying to incite Thirteen. He was pretending to pamper, pretending to give a fuck like he was the sorcerer’s treasured pet and not his favorite hole. By the sound of Thirteen’s snarl, it was working. Seven didn’t have to look at Blackwell to know it would please him; there was something fucked up in the man. He was cruel and twisted and took pleasure in seeing Seven injured and humiliated whenever he could.

“Thirteen, to me.”

The muscular demon took sure, silent steps and stopped in front of where Blackwell was seated. Although his head was held high, his eyes were fixed on where Seven was spread out on the rug.

Blackwell’s gaze ran down Thirteen’s nude, powerful form as he took in his hard muscle and blue-gray skin color. His eyes lingered and fixed on the demon’s half-erect arousal. “Your anatomy is always so fascinating. It doesn’t matter how much you demons vary in shape and abilities, you’re all designed to ensure your mating is successful.” His palm came up to caress Thirteen’s dick. Blackwell squeezed and stroked the flesh to full hardness. A smile quirked his lips when he saw the full impressive size.

Thirteen’s glare grew the longer he was fondled. His expression was stone-faced when the raised ridges that wrapped his shaft every inch were traced by Blackwell’s fingers with interest.

“You grow even larger when you cum and lock inside your mate. It must be painful for a tight hole like Seven.” Blackwell’s gaze slid down again to where Seven was bent forward, his curtain of red hair draped around his shoulders. “My pet knows enough not to complain about such things, even if he still cannot figure out how to answer my summons in a timely manner.”

Seven swallowed thickly and didn’t dare look up. The last thing he wanted Blackwell to see was his fear. “Forgive me, Master.”

“I do not forgive, Seven. I punish and expect obedience to follow.” Blackwell gave a final squeeze to Thirteen’s pulsing, ridged cock, his gaze full of barely contained anger. “Thirteen, you may mate him but there must be no blood. Bruises are fine. Expected with one as strong as you. Do not stain my carpet; it was a gift.”

January 21, 2017: What an extraordinary day in history…

January 21, 2017. What an extraordinary day in history…

I’m currently compiling and lightly editing the two Demon Bonded Sagas I’ve written so far: Demencious Saga and Apprentice Saga. They will be available through the KU program for the first time and purchasable in two ebooks instead of the nine individual books. The saga price will be $4.99 each, except when I first release them; they’ll be $0.99 then so my current readers can acquire them inexpensively.

I thought about this a lot, to be honest. The thing is, I don’t write to make money. I make money writing so that I can continue writing. This is probably not the soundest business decision, but I’m addicted; I love it, and this is the life that I am blessed to have. I understand for some who have purchased all nine individual Demon Bonded books, that offering the books like this now might feel unfair. That is not my intention. Yes, you paid more than others will end up paying for the series so far, but you also contributed to my ability to write the next books in the series, something I am eternally grateful for. Because of your generosity, you have also made it possible for newer readers that don’t have as much money to be able to purchase a story that I think we all love—Even more amazing, in my opinion.

You’re never going to find one of my ebooks out there for $10 (not that I’m disparaging authors that charge that amount.) I was born into poverty, adopted into middle class, and I’ve been homeless and disabled—my value of money is far lower than my value of being able to share the really cool stories that float around in my head with as many people as possible. Reading was an escape for me in many a difficult life struggle, and I want to be able to offer that for others no matter their financial circumstance.


Okay, next. Part of meeting so many new authors has been learning they blog about stuff far more interesting than I do. Eric, who not only writes a plethora of amazing gay stories, also has time to blog his ass off and host Facebook groups where others can find and talk about the books they love. Please, check him out when you have a chance.

Gay Fiction Addiction and Fiction Addiction



Blood In The Water by Tami Veldura

Kyros Vindex, treasure-hunter, has a problem. He’s carrying a torch for a fellow pirate with the sexual awareness of a teaspoon. Rumors say the man has killed hundreds. He’s determined to knock some sense into the work-a-holic that captains the Midnight Sun, but damned if he knows how.

Eric Deumont has more pressing concerns than the treasure-obsessed Kyros. There’s a creature inked into his chest that no witch in the seas will lay hands on for all the gold in the world. He knows it gives the Midnight Sun a cursed reputation and that doesn’t make living any easier. He has heard stories of spirits trapped for lifetimes inside spelled puzzle jars. Eric tracked down three of the pieces for such a jar with a lead number four. The fifth is still out there.

Even then, the spirit of vengeance that lives in Eric’s skin has no intention of giving up such easy access to the mortal realm. It craves blood and the light of the moon allows it to wreak unchecked havoc. Cursed is an insult. This is madness.


StepDaddy by Sadie Sins

Hey, don’t miss out on StepDaddy. It’s free for the month!

Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.


Soapbox time, my dears.

Look away if reality frightens you; I can’t protect you or soothe your fears. Mine are just as large.

The darkness is sweeping in, and LGBT* was wiped from the face of the White House with the ascension of America’s new president. In one stroke, the very existence of lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgenders, queers, asexuals, and all the many variations we humans use to help identify our core self when it comes to sexuality has been blacked out from the government that is supposed to represent all of its citizens. At the same time as I write this, there are women, men, Americans, and people all over the globe of all creed, all color, all orientation, protesting the future that is to befall my country.

Humanity is crying out, and I hear it. I hope you hear it too and understand.

The rights that I grew up with—that I know true in my heart—I learned as an adult had to be written through my government to be protected. And when the governing power decides that those rights have no value, we are not protected. When a man that can rape and assault a woman—many women**—rises to the seat of president when his entire country knows and dismisses his crimes, women are no longer protected. Voices in America said that one man was more powerful, more ‘right’ than the women he assaulted and their rights to their bodies. Believe me, no politics in this election will ever compare to the absolute devastation that one message speaks when it comes to our fundamental human rights: One man has more power over my female body than I do.

This message is not limited to women. This is a message that one man can refuse to pay his employees and not be punished. That one man can exploit citizen status, the color of skin, religion, gender, youth, sexual orientation, years of institutional racism and sexism to ensure that his victims fear too much to fight back. That one man can defraud students in a fake school of his creation and not face the consequences beyond throwing an endless stream of money. That one man can exploit the sheer lack of wealth all his victims have as he takes whatever he pleases. That one man can lie, every moment, every time and not be held accountable for his words and actions. Voices in my country said that this behavior was acceptable. Their votes said it when their silence reigned. They said money was greater than human rights. They said money was greater than my human rights, greater than my family, my friends, my neighbors, and the strangers I have yet to meet but share so much.

Those cold, apathetic voices are willing to give my rights away, but my rights don’t belong to them. They are mine. Our rights are innate, born to us, live within every child born until the day we die. We are equal, and we are free, and that is how we are meant to exist. And yes, these rights are only protected because of the documents of my government that ensure that it is so, but that doesn’t mean that they will ever be gone if those documents change. It doesn’t mean our rights will ever not be ours even when an administration that lords over us with subversive religious mandates says otherwise.

Our rights cannot be taken from us, but they can be given. In the silence, in the bargaining for power and safety, in the fear, people give their rights away.

As this darkness sweeps in, crashing in a frozen wave to submerge my country, I will not be silent. I will not give my rights away. I will support every voice that speaks up against inequality and tyranny. As much as this new president will try to separate America from the globe we live in, I will do everything to reach out. Our neighbors are our help, not our enemy. They are our guide when we are lost in the darkness. My voice might not be the most educated or the loudest or compelling, but it is all I have, and I will use it.

Now is the time to be loud. This is the first day of the first battle that will continue for the next four years. It will become as innate as my breathing—as innate as those rights that each and every one of us holds within. I will be loud. I will not be silent and complacent in the stripping of our freedom. If we are all loud, our roar can shake apart this darkness.

Goodies This Week

Hey, some sweet stuff this week

Hot damn, Sorcerer Slayer is happening. I just got through this really fun scene… Fine, I wrote it like a month ago but the new scenes are too rough at the moment so you get this… Unedited. ^^; Lol. It’s below the awesomeness. Speaking of which…

We’ve got $0.99 goodies and StepDaddy is free for the month of January. Also, expect a new book from me sometime next week. It will not be hitting Amazon as it is one of my pervy, kinky–In this particular case, forced to fuck incest theme. Yup, I’m back in the spirit of writing. XD

Also, I started using this service called Payhip where I can sell directly from my website safely, securely and with paypal and credit cards. Instead of waiting 3-4 months to get paid (I know, try paying rent like that @[email protected]) I only have to wait 2 days. It’s been pretty cool so far, so any book not in Amazon KU will be available on the website through Payhip with links to the smashwords version too.


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Becoming Omega Series Books 1-3 by Stephan Hoppa $0.99

This three book box set contains all the novels from the Becoming Omega series by Stephen Hoppa:

Omega to the Ranchers After being beaten and left in the woods, Ryan wakes up in the bed of two powerful ranchers who are much more than they appear to be…

Omega to the Exile Bo is destroying himself to escape his past mistakes. He can’t outrun his debts and soon one of the most powerful gangs is going to make him pay. His problems only complicate when lone werewolf, Brayden, turns him into his omega, something Bo understands nothing about, as he struggles to ignore the fated connection he shares with Brayden…

Omega to the Alpha Alpha werewolf Silas grew up believing that when he found his fated mate, everything would fall together so easily; then he met Alex, harder than steel, more fragile than ice, member of the gang trying to kill off Silas’s pack…

*These stories all feature heart pounding action and steaming hot intimate scenes between men with HFN endings, no cheating, and no cliffhangers.*


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Bound By Sacrifice by R. Phoenix $0.99

Now that supernatural beings have seized control of the world, life has become a struggle for the humans who once held power. Witches, vampires, and werewolves determine the fate of every single human, but their moral compasses have long since been shattered. Rebels, free humans, and slaves all share dreams of hope, mercy, love, and more. But with their fate so uncertain, survival isn’t enough… and they may have to sacrifice what is nearest and dearest to them if they want to change their lives.

*Please note that this world has little place for humanity. As a result, content in these works may contain scenes of depravity, cruelty, and violence — sexual or otherwise — that could be offensive and potentially triggering to some readers.*


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Securing Him by Jace Presley $0.99

When an explosion rocked a military camp in the middle of the desert, Khian didn’t expect to find anyone alive. However, in the middle of the rubble, was Dr. Stephen Colt; injured, but alive. Once he came to, the fitness obsessed and recently divorced doctor is surprised by his body’s reaction to this tall, dark and mysterious savior, Khian.

As the two men search for who was behind the attack, they grow closer together and form a bond that soon turns to love. But a loved one is a liability a man like Khian cannot afford. To keep him out of danger, Khian sends Stephen away. Little does he know that the Doctor isn’t easily pushed aside and will cross the world to secure his new love.


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StepDaddy by Sadie Sins (free)

Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.


Sorcerer Slayer Sneak Peek

“What are you getting at?” Vincent finally spoke, as cutting as always.

“Huh?”

“Is this some kind of joke?” He tried to pull his hand free, but Fox wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck—No, you idiot. Why the hell would I joke about something like this?” Fox shook his head briskly, annoyed he had let himself get upset. He pulled Vincent’s hand against his chest, holding the sorcerer tighter. “I want to go out with you.”

Vincent stared at his hand again. “Go out?”

“Date. Be your boyfriend,” Fox added gruffly, his cheeks growing hot. He didn’t care how much he blushed; he wasn’t going to let Vincent play dumb on him. “I want to date you.”

Understanding slowly dawning in his eyes, Vincent carefully pulled his hand free. “You want a relationship with me. Like Black and Doe.”

“Eh…” Fox couldn’t dream to be so ambitious as that. He had a feeling whatever he could hope to have with Vincent wouldn’t be anything comparable to the wild passion his dragon roommate had for Dorian Black. “I want a relationship of the two of us. I don’t know what that might look like, but that’s—”

“I can’t,” Vincent said abruptly.

Falling silent, Fox tried to ignore the way his heart felt like it was shredding. Dumb—Really fucking dumb. He knew it was a long shot at best. Still…

“Why?” He found himself asking, trying to read Vincent’s too subtle expressions. “Because you hate me?”

“I just can’t. Not ever.” Vincent looked away, avoiding Fox’s gaze. “I can’t explain it. It’s just something I’m not going to be able to get around.”

Fox growled in annoyance. “Vince, just fucking tell me. It took a lot for me to ask you out and I just want to know why.”

Frowning, Vincent glanced sideways at him before offering flatly, “It’s too dangerous.”

“What, you think I’m going to hurt you?” Fox asked, his annoyance slipping away to be replaced with concern. Had someone hurt Vince?

“No, stupid,” Vincent replied sharply. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

Fox was only growing more confused. Whenever he could get Vincent to talk, the sorcerer had always been more than direct. That he refused to be now was aggravating on top of confusing. He doubted Vincent was holding back to spare his feelings—It was Vince, after all.

“Please, just explain it to me,” he tried again, fighting to keep his tone even. The last thing he wanted to do was whine about something like this. “I… I just want to understand.”

Vincent sighed heavily, frustration clear in the sound. “I can’t, zorro. The person I am when it comes to shifters… I came here to not be that person. That’s all I can tell you.”

Fox’s heart sank. Right. Of course. It was because he was a shifter. Of course, Vincent would never date a shifter.

He wanted to be angry, but glaring at Vincent only brought to mind all the things he liked about the boy. Beneath his beautiful, damn near perfect exterior seemed to be a heart so fragile, he was half afraid his blundering would destroy it most days. Even then, when Vince was tearing him apart, the sorcerer just seemed so lost and confused at every moment.

Fox wasn’t aware he had moved, not until he heard Vincent’s breath hitch. Even then, he couldn’t stop himself, his eyes caught in the deep, lonely expanse of the sorcerer’s silver eyes. He cupped Vincent’s face, creating the lightest of pressure as he leaned forward.

***

And that’s all you get! *runs away*

Oh, and all those awesome deals above (hey, two of those models look totally the same. <3) Fox is not one to give up. Like, you could beat him over the head and that boy just keeps on trying. XD Hope you’re all having a fine weekend. <3

Taken By Beasts

Taken By Beasts

This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.

66,000+ wrds, Published October 28, 2016.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT TAKEN BY BEASTS

on October 30, 2016
Incredibly awesome, hot and steamy. Multiple books but all were well written erotic shorts, guaranteed to get you a little wet in the pants
on June 17, 2017
This was a really sexually erotic series of stories that was full of the paranormal and very entertaining. Vampires, thralls, werewolves, magicians, shifters and mythical creatures..Menage’ is part of some of the stories and the sexual encounters are really hot. An excellent book. Would recommend it for anyone to read.
on June 1, 2017

I love this story collection. It has five wonderful stories, each one taking place on Halloween night. If I have to pick a favorite, it is the final story in the collection, a werewolf story that intrigued me and pulled me in from word one. I just loved the way the story unfolded, so perfectly through dark and shadow, the main character so haunted by howls and laughter in the woods. The writing in this one was some of the best I’ve seen by this author. (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…

Right?

Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.

***

He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

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StepDaddy

StepDaddy

Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.

35,000+ wrds, Published August 27, 2016.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT STEPDADDY

This was a hot, sexy, funny yet dirty read. Ethan can’t help checking out his hot stepdad and his stepdad Jeff has been lusting after his stepson for ages. Whose going to cave into their lust first?
Ethan made me laugh when he dressed to impress, with a provocative flare, to get Jeff’s attention.

The book is written well but I wouldn’t expect any less from Sadie Sins.

This was a fun and naughty read, and also a very provocative guilty pleasure. Jeff is the sexy, hot step, dad who is trying his hardest not to give into the raging lust that he has for his step son, Ethan. Ethan feels the same way and tries many little schemes to get Jeff’s attention. The only thing that bothered me about Jeff was his constant regret when he did give in to him at times, although I don’t want to spoil anything since it was an enjoyable read. Ethan’s mother is never there and they have somewhat of an open marriage, so there’s that. 🙂 The writing, of course, was excellent (as usual) and the characters were very tantalizing. I can’t wait to read about what happens in that home next. Super titillating.

Arghh, good, so good! This was kinda tame for Sadie, with the stepfather spending most of the book being a dang upstanding and respectable man *grumbles* I really wish this book had been longer, if for no other reason than to have lots more steamy Daddy kink scenes :p I loved both characters a lot! (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

“Damn, kid, don’t you ever go to school?”

Ethan blinked up from his phone screen as his stepfather came into the kitchen, his eyes lingering for a moment on the man’s tattooed arms. “Summer vaca,” Ethan mumbled, ducking his head back down and hiding behind his box of cereal as the man made his way to the stove top and began cooking up a late breakfast. “Don’t you have work?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. Jeff didn’t talk much. The guy had moved in six months ago after a whirlwind engagement and besides hanging out in the adjoining garage painting all day, Ethan rarely saw the man outside of the occasional times Jeff would try and catch up with him.

He was kind of glad the guy was so busy. Jeff unsettled the fuck out of him.

“I’ve actually been up since dawn. Just grabbing something to eat before I get back to the canvas. Got that gallery showing in a week and I need to get some last minute touchups done before framing.”

Ethan nodded to himself, having a bite of his now soggy cereal while sneaking a peek at the man. Jeff was still in his pajamas, wearing a pair of black flannel night pants and a black wifebeater that was flecked with spots of paint. He wasn’t wearing shoes—the man rarely did while around the house. Both of his arms were covered from shoulder to wrist in tattoo’s, his tanned skin colored in elaborate, geometric patterns in blue, gold, and black ink. It was apparently inspired by one of Jeff’s own paintings. A badass painting if he was to go by the man’s bulging biceps.

Ethan’s new stepfather was a lot of eye candy. With his piercing blue eyes and brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, the guy could have been a model. He had the body for it—tall, lean, and buff—as well as the not giving a fuck attitude. Jeff always looked like he was two days late to shave, a light fuzz prickling at his jaw and neck, and he rarely dressed up beyond jeans and a t-shirt. He was also one of those health nuts, having filled their refrigerator with tons of fresh, organic produce when he moved in, his blender heard before any of the alarm clocks went off.

“You looking for a job?”

Ethan ducked his head back down, shaking it silently when the man glanced over at him from the stove. He tried to lose himself in his video game but couldn’t stop from being distracted by Jeff’s presence across the room. The thing was, Ethan didn’t like guys. He was pretty fucking sure. But it was really hard to look away from Jeff whenever the man was around. There was just something about the guy that drew his eye and kept him looking. Like his colorful biceps. Or the way the man’s thin pants clung to his sculpted ass.

It was unsettling. Confusing. Ethan just couldn’t stop getting hot whenever around his stepfather and it had been going on for months now.

“You need a job, kid. An internship. Something. You going to waste your life hanging around the fucking house all the time?”

Ethan looked up when his cereal box was suddenly taken away, watching as Jeff placed a plate with an omelet in front of him, the man nudging his bowl of cereal aside on the kitchen island to make room. “You also need to start eating some actual food. There is no way there are enough calories in that sugary shit to even get you out of your chair. I don’t know how the hell you get through your soccer games on this shit.”

Jeff was damn near intimidating when up close, the man’s face predatorial and eyes stunning as they met his. He was also bisexual, something Ethan’s mom had mentioned in passing and now he couldn’t stop thinking about. Ethan nearly dropped his phone, quickly grabbing the fork that was pushed his way to hide his tremor.

“Your mother ever teach you how to cook?” Jeff asked, cocking his hip and leaning against the island while he waited for Ethan to try the food. The hem of the man’s shirt was stretched over his hips in a way that revealed a flash of tanned abs and a sparse trail of hair leading beneath his pants. It was very distracting.

Ethan really wished the guy would look somewhere else so he could fucking breathe and stop feeling like an idiot already. He shook his head silently, finally giving in to his stepfather and scooping some food onto his fork. “Shit—I mean, this is really good. Uh, sir. T-Thank you.”

Jeff raised a brow at the stuttering boy, silently mouthing the word ‘sir’ to himself. His gaze slid down to where the blond had just nearly dropped his fork. “Well?”

Ethan jolted, looking up, the utensil now caught between his lips. “Um…?”

“Did Leah ever show you how to cook?” Jeff repeated, a slight smile curling the edges of his lips when Ethan began to flush.

“My mom’s not… She doesn’t cook,” Ethan mumbled, reaching for his phone with his other hand in the hopes of ending this absolutely alarming conversation where his stepfather looked at him and kept asking him about stuff.

“You wanna learn how?” Jeff prompted, watching as the blond boy tried to hide behind the small cell phone screen and eat another bite of food at the same time. “Seeing as you’re going to be around all day, and I do try to make it a point to eat.”

Ethan shrugged, grunting something noncommittal.

Jeff was not deterred, the man’s fingers curling around the boy’s wrist to guide his hand away from his face. When Ethan looked up, only blushing brighter now, he added, “And while I’m showing you how to cook, you can fill out some job applications.”

The man’s words sinking in, Ethan scowled, pulling his hand away to rest it on the table instead. His wrist felt like it was tingling where Jeff had touched it, an annoying distraction as he tried to state his case for not needing any job now that he had gotten his last year of high school out of the way.

“I don’t want a job. I’m starting college in a couple of months and I just want to chill for a bit before all that.”

“What, are you ancient? Decrepit? Eat your omelet.” Jeff turned away, going back to the stove and cracking more eggs into a bowl and whisking them with a fork. “You’re going to want money, right? You’re going to want to hang out with your friends. Gas cost money, kid. Concerts, food, the mall—Believe me, you’re going to want a job.”

“Really, I’m not,” Ethan muttered, glaring at his plate. He had only just started to feel the freedom of being out of school. All he wanted to do was hang out with his friends and maybe his house. “My mom will pay for all that shit.”

Jeff snorted, the trash bin rattling as he threw the eggshells into the wastebasket. “Like fuck, she will. Leah does enough without needing to pay for your lazy ass.”

“I’m not lazy,” Ethan said with a growl.

“Oh, did you pay for that $600 phone your face is always glued to? What about the nearly $100 a month it costs so that you can text your friends your every riveting thought as you have them? The motorcycle you’re driving or the insurance that allows you to do so?” Jeff turned, pointing the spatula at him when Ethan stood, the boy getting ready to escape. “What about rent? All that cardboard food you keep eating? Just where do you think the money for all that comes from? Not your schooling.”

Pursing his lips, Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lazy. I’m just a kid.”

Jeff scoffed. “Not anymore, you aren’t. I don’t get why Leah didn’t have you working through summers. It’s time to grow the fuck up and start contributing. I’m not painting every day to keep your ass in designer jeans, kid.”

Glaring, a million scathing retorts swirling in his head, Ethan opened his mouth but nothing came out. Jeff’s eyes were blazing, the man unblinking and deceptively calm as he just stared him down. “No one asked you to buy me anything,” Ethan finally muttered, unable to meet the man’s glare any longer. He liked it, though. A part of him liked that Jeff cared enough to lend him money for things. His mother was never around but Jeff was, even if the guy didn’t talk to him as much as he’d like. Ethan had never had a dad before and Jeff was the closest thing to perfect in a lot of ways when it came to things like that.

“Hm.” His eyes narrowed, Jeff turned back to the stove, flipping his omelet before it started browning. “Don’t go running off until you eat. I don’t think you’ve had more than pizza and Cheetos this entire week.”

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan sat, glaring at the man’s back. Only to have his eyes inadvertently slide down, his gaze caught on Jeff’s ass when the man leaned over to grab the salt and pepper shakers. It was a decidedly interesting ass; firm, symmetrical and muscular. He hadn’t really known that he liked muscular asses but he definitely liked Jeff’s.

“You interested in anything in particular?”

Ethan jumped, his eyes snapping up. But the brunette was only looking at the pan, poking it with his spatula. “What?”

“For work. You have anything in mind you’d like to do?”

Ugh. “Play video games,” Ethan said flippantly.

“Cute. I’m sure people just hand you money for that shit.”

“Coming from the artist,” he muttered, stabbing at his omelet. That it was about the best thing he had tasted in as long as he could remember didn’t help his mood at all. “People pay you to hang out around the house painting pictures.”

“Not exactly.” Plating his food, Jeff turned the stove top off and poured himself a glass of fresh juice before sitting across from Ethan at the kitchen island.

“People buy a product from me. Now some pay for a service if they want to hire me to paint as a demonstration, or to design a mural, tattoo, whatever. But for the most part, I create something and people buy a print or the original. That’s how I can get away with hanging around the house all day; I’m selling even when I’m asleep. That doesn’t mean I don’t have to work it for clients at galleries and meetings that get my art on walls where people can see. Renting out one of my paintings to a business requires me to do more than just paint, but it’s worth the money that comes in. Half my income this month was just on rented paintings. They’re not even new pieces but they can pay the bills if you know what you’re doing.”

Ethan really didn’t want to care just how Jeff made his money. Unfortunately, he was finding it interesting and he sighed again, daring to look up at the man. Jeff’s head was ducked, a long lock of wavy hair brushing over one of his eyes, his mouth open as he took a bite of his breakfast. The man had ridiculously lush lips, full and red. Combined with his sharp features and strong jaw, he really was just the epitome of male beauty. Ethan idly wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. They probably weren’t as soft as they looked. With Jeff’s bristle, it might even be prickly, a little rough.

Glancing up, Jeff caught Ethan staring at him, the boy immediately looking away. “You pick a major yet?”

Ethan shook his head weakly, hating how flustered he felt. “Mom said she was going to help.”

“Yeah, well waiting for Leah to pull herself from her work is like watching paint dry.” Jeff smiled grimly. “I can help you if you want. I’m surprisingly good at that kind of shit.”

Glancing his way a moment, Ethan shrugged. “Okay. Um, maybe tonight? Once I get back from hanging with my friends. I was thinking of something business oriented.”

He couldn’t help but wonder how quickly it had taken for Jeff to figure out just how unavailable his mother really was. It would probably still take the man a good year to realize she wasn’t going to change. And seeing as he married her, he might even stick it out longer trying to make it work. He was young still; he might think it was worth putting the effort in.

Ethan hoped he would. Not because he wanted to see Jeff break his heart but because he really liked having the man as a stepfather. Jeff was cool. Scary, but cool. Ethan had never had anyone actually care about him and even though Jeff breezed in and out most of the day between painting, the man was always saying and doing stuff that made it clear he gave a fuck. He was a calming presence. Sturdy and reliable. Ethan wasn’t used to having something like that and he’d be really pissed if his mother ruined it for him.

His mother had tried this time, he knew that much. Jeff was very different from what Leah usually dated. He was self-driven and had interests outside of just their relationship—Really important seeing as Ethan’s mother lived for her work and her last three relationships had failed because she couldn’t put enough time or energy into them. She was always at the office and when she was home, her head was at the office, planning new ideas, designing new rooms and buildings.

Leah Walde was an architect, a highly sought after one, and she had started her own firm ten years ago. Jeff had actually been commissioned to create a portrait of one of her more famous buildings and that was how they had met. That Jeff could balance his creativity with business savvy had been a good fit for Leah, even if Jeff didn’t have much interest in doing much beyond supporting himself so that he could continue his painting. It was still a step up from the last guy who had thought he was going to be some sort of jobless house husband.

“Any thoughts on what you want to learn how to cook for tonight?” Jeff asked, having a sip of his juice.

Ethan couldn’t help but stare; a droplet of moisture dripping from his stepfather’s mouth to trickle down his chin. God, what was wrong with him? He blinked, finding Jeff staring at him with a raised brow, the man waiting patiently for an answer. Ethan really didn’t have one. “Um, whatever you feel like eating, I guess.”

Grinning wickedly, Jeff put his glass down, leaning close and crooking his finger. “Careful there. I don’t think you could stomach half the things I eat, kid.”

His breath curling hot around his ear, Ethan’s breath hitched. He glanced Jeff’s way, feeling stupid as fuck when he caught the man still smiling. His eyes were sparkling at him, flashing with some hidden laughter that was making him feel hot inside. For a frozen eternity, he was certain the man was flirting with him and he had no idea how to respond.

Thankfully, Jeff seemed oblivious to his panic, the man reaching over and patting Ethan’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t make you eat anything too healthy and green. Seeing the diet you’re coming from, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm your system with anything of substance.”

“Oh.” Gnawing on his bottom lip, Ethan slowly sank back in his seat, hoping his cheeks would stop burning soon. He had a sip of his soda, his gaze inadvertently drawn to his stepfather again. “Um… So, like, when did you know you were bi?” Ethan asked daringly, his heart feeling trapped in his throat once he got the question out.

Moving in a way that seemed just a little too casual, Jeff placed his fork down. “Young. Younger than you are.” He met Ethan’s curious gaze, his head tilting slightly. “Why? Does my sexuality make you uncomfortable?”

“Jesus, only when you say it like that,” Ethan muttered, covering his face with his hand for a moment. He peeked out, combing his fingers through his short blond locks. “Just… Did you know at the same time? Or was it, like, you liked one and then realized you liked the other later?”

Considering the question a moment, Jeff finally answered after having another drink of his juice. “Both. I had at least half a dozen crushes back then and it was pretty easy for me to see that gender was not a barrier for my attraction.”

“So bi people, they all know, like, at the same time, then? Like, if you’re going to be bi, you’re definitely going to know when you start getting crushes. It doesn’t, like, change?” Ethan asked nervously, his fingers twisting at his placemat.

“I’m not sure that would be the way I’d word it,” Jeff said carefully, studying his stepson’s face while Ethan bit his lip and looked at the table. “I think attraction is based on more than just a body, and sometimes when all the right elements come together, you might just find yourself looking at someone you weren’t expecting to be looking at.”

His brows furrowing at the answer, Ethan forced himself to look the man in the eye. “I’m not talking about love or shit. I’m not saying people can’t, like, fall in love and overcome gender or what have you. I just want to know if, you know, you can suddenly be attracted to…” He trailed off, waving his hand nervously.

“Are you worried you’re going to wake up wanting to suck cock?” Jeff asked blandly.

“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Scowling and beyond embarrassed, Ethan stood, more than ready to get away from this man that flustered the fuck out of him on so many different levels. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with gay people. That’s not what I was—”

“Sit your ass down, brat,” Jeff ordered quietly. “Did I say there was anything actually wrong with sucking cock?”

Ethan paused and glared at the man, his brain unfortunately now stuck on the question of if his stepfather had ever sucked cock and what that might look like. A beat later and he sat back down, his leg bouncing nervously. “I just want to know if you can, well… Like a…” He couldn’t say it and was only feeling more upset by the fact because it was Jeff he was trying to explain it to.

“Can you suddenly like someone of the same gender and still like the opposite sex as well?” Jeff supplied when Ethan seemed unable to continue on.

Pursing his lips, Ethan nodded sharply. “But more, can you just, like, suddenly like someone of the same gender. When you never did before. Not ever.”

“Not ever?” Jeff repeated, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

“Not ever,” Ethan repeated sternly, daring him to call him a liar.

“Well, I’ve only ever had my own experiences to compare to, but if this has happened to someone, I’m pretty sure it’s not the end of the world.” He flashed the boy a comforting smile, placing his elbow on the table so he could lean his chin on his hand. “It’s not like this person would have to act on anything just because he felt something new. People get crushes all the time and don’t act on them.”

Ethan nodded, fairly certain Jeff had no idea just who he was crushing on by the casual air the man was giving off. “But it’s, like, normal?”

“As normal as the huge range of human sexuality can get.”

“But is it bi?” Ethan added, his expression again growing tense.

“It’s whatever that person wants it to be. A fluke. A one-time attraction… Or maybe it’s bi, and they’re just finding out.” Jeff’s smile had only grown, his eyes sparkling, and Ethan was feeling decidedly uncomfortable with just how nice the man looked with his perfectly white teeth.

“Stop smiling at me like that. I never said it was me,” he grumbled, grabbing his plate and jumping up to rinse it in the sink.

“Did I say I thought it was you?” Jeff asked, his smile now beaming. “Shit, are you going to start calling me dad now?”

“Fuck off,” Ethan snapped, grinning despite himself. “You’re lucky I call you sir.”

“Yeah, could you not do that? It’s weird—Children of the Corn weird. That would be a movie you’ve never heard of, by the way.” Jeff stood as well, stepping up behind Ethan at the sink with his empty plate in hand. “Just call me Jeff. ‘Hey you,’ if you’re feeling lazy.”

Ethan was having trouble focusing, Jeff standing far too close for him to notice anything else. God, it might be ‘normal’ but it was still really annoying to feel so fucking hot over someone. “Here, just…” He turned, taking the plate and fork from the man, nearly dropping both when their fingers brushed accidentally. Spinning back, he quickly washed them and put them in the dryer rack, his heart racing too fast in his chest. God, he hated this. Fucking hated it.

Jeff had stepped around the island and was drinking the last of his juice when Ethan finally got up the nerve to turn around. The faucet off, he crossed the kitchen to grab his phone.

“I start cooking around 6:30,” Jeff said, Ethan pausing mid-stride.

“Right. Um, I’m going to meet my friends tonight. Like, eightish.”

“Alright. It’s a plan.”

Nodding, Ethan edged to the door, slipping through with a quick backward glance. Jeff was staring back at him and for a frozen moment their eyes met, Ethan’s heart racing in response.

God, he really needed to get over this thing.

***

Son of a bitch. Bi? Was the kid bi now? Why did Ethan have to tell him he thought he might be bi? What was he trying to do to him?

Groaning inwardly, Jeff pressed both his hands on the kitchen island, leaning heavily over the countertop as he willed his erection down. One fumbling touch from the kid’s hand on his and he had gotten hard. Not good. Really not good.

Talking to Ethan had been a terrible, terrible idea. Sure, he had known he was being too antisocial and that he was worried the kid would start thinking he hated him. Leah hadn’t been around in forever, and he was pretty sure the kid had no adult supervision in his life but fuck… Fuck.

The things he would do to Ethan Walde if he hadn’t married the boy’s mother.

He was too young for him, didn’t know shit about life—And only ten minutes ago, decidedly straight. Many very good reasons Jeff had focused on whenever he found himself in the same room as the young man. But Ethan was also fucking delicious. He had soft, golden hair and wide, clear, green eyes, flawless skin and his average height was already filled out with muscle from his competitive soccer playing. That summer vacation had started and Ethan seemed content to haunt the kitchen and living room most hours of the day, half the time without a shirt on, had become a special type of hell for Jeff.

Cooking lessons? The kid needed to learn how to cook—to eat—but shit, why the fuck had he suggested cooking lessons? Knives and fire and the two of them in the somewhat cramped kitchen? Alone.

Dumb. Really fucking dumb.

He needed to get laid. That was all. He had gone into this thing with Leah with a predefined understanding that he needed sex more than she did and that she was more than happy to let him go out and get it as long as he was safe about it and he was home for the weekends to do family stuff. Of course, it had turned out that he had no problem being home on the weekends while Leah couldn’t seem to find her own house. Jeff hadn’t gotten around to checking out his options in the area. He had moved to a new town for Leah and although he was enjoying his large art studio, he hadn’t done much outside of the house besides grocery shop and jog in the morning. Something that was going to have to change if his sexy-ass stepson was hanging around all summer. And now bi.

The kid needed a job. Like yesterday.

Jeff could only hope that whatever reason Ethan had been looking at him strangely the last few weeks had to do with that conversation and would finally stop. The staring had been the icing on the shit cake of this insane situation. Ethan was probably just curious about the bi thing. More than a few guys were curious about the bi thing. It used to be the quickest way for Jeff to get a straight guy into bed—Just tell him he was bi and let him ask a million questions until he explained how much easier it was just to show than tell.

Not something he could do with Ethan. Not something he should even be fucking thinking about doing with the kid. Stepson. Young, naive, and very much off-limits for anything.

Hot, though. Really fucking hot. He had great nipples, the perfect size, pink spots just begging to be kissed, licked and then nipped sore. And his neck—he wanted to coat the boy’s long throat with his cum until it dripped down his toned torso like a pearly, dirty river. And if Ethan wanted to call him daddy while he was doing it, well, that would be more than fine with him.

“Jesus, get it the fuck together,” Jeff grunted to himself, his body lighting up with heat and his cock again hardening until it was pressed up against the side of the island.

It was time to start checking out his fucking options in the area. There was a bar within walking distance; some pool joint where he’d seen a mix of ages and sexes go in. He just needed to fuck something—preferably a hot twink that could pass for half his age so he could get this out of his system. Until then, he was going to have to settle for his hand and get the fuck back to work. He had a set of three paintings that Leah had commissioned from him for one of her older clients. It was guaranteed money and a potentially lasting connection if he got it all done in time and kissed ass well enough. That on top of his gallery opening in a week had him completely swamped. He couldn’t be wasting his time fantasizing about fucking his sexy-ass stepson.

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