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StepDaddy

A Stepfather/Son Novella
Exclusive Library
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.
Heat level: X



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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Robyn

Forced To Be Their Sister
Exclusive Library
Rob has had enough of his older brothers teasing him. Just because his mother insisted he was her honorary girl when she was done raising sons didn’t mean he was an actual girl! He’s sick of being treated like a chick and he’s looking for vengeance.

Rob’s three older brother’s are sick of their little brother acting like an angry, spoiled brat. When Rob crosses the lines with another one of his childish pranks, they decide it’s time to teach their little sister a lesson in being a girl the only way three muscular, controlling guys know how.

This story is 17,000+ words long. It contains graphic language, sexually explicit content between brothers, a great corset and leather boots, spanking, and mild humiliation mixed with some tears. 18+ Only

17,000+ wrds, Published June 11, 2016.
Heat level: XX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ROBYN

Sizzling hot story with four brothers! Loved the characters and the plot. Great job!
story warning: contains incest between 4 brothers. Wheew! This was another great story by Sadie. One thing you will always get with her books, is lots of heat! The best Thing about them though, is they have an actual storyline with that sex. If you like taboo books, this one is perfect! Rob and his older brothers heat up the pages.
Shocking debauchery.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Rob had finally had enough. His assholic older brothers had crossed him for the last fucking time. The three jerks had once again—well, Frank had and he totally fucking hated Frank—Frank had said he was a girl. Worse, a cheerleader. This time in front of the entire fucking football team. The bastard had stood in front of everyone and said the reason his little brother couldn’t try out for the team was because he was really a chick and they should have him cheer instead. And then everyone had laughed. Dan, his other asshole of a brother, had laughed the loudest and even Joey, who was usually the nice one out of the three, had joined in. Whenever he was around Frank and Dan, Joey always took their side. It wasn’t fair. Rob had three older, stronger, meaner brothers and they always picked on him.

Today, he was going to show them.

Rob stalked into their family kitchen, his parents still at work and his brothers still at practice. He placed the bag of sugar he had bought at the convenience store on the table, pulling a chair out and standing on it so he could reach the higher cabinet over the fridge. Fucking Frank was always laughing about how he needed to stand on something to reach the cabinet just like their mom. But Frank was a goddamn giant, as was Dan and Joey, and normal people needed a stool to reach that high. He wasn’t short and petite, he was just being compared to fucking giants. Everyone looked like a matchstick compared to his brothers.

Grinning viciously, Rob grabbed the container of whey protein powder out of the cabinet, gasping when he fumbled the large, plastic container and nearly dropped it. Fuck, that would have been a total mess. He cradled the container to his chest as he jumped down from the chair, then headed straight for the sink.

They thought they were so fucking great with their bulging muscles and tall, athletic forms. Just because mom had wanted a girl for the longest time and used to call Rob her baby Robyn didn’t mean he was a girl. Just because she had spent the first five years of his life dressing him in pink and calling him Robyn and telling everyone he was her honorary daughter didn’t mean he was actually a fucking girl. And what the fuck did his brothers do? Did they show sympathy? Did they try and help him bulk up like them or help him practice so he could join a sport? No. They just made fun of him too, teasing him for his slender body and cute face. They were always calling him Robyn, and cutie, and their pretty sis. God, he hated them all.

Just wait until the three of them were fat and slow, then they’d wish they were even close to as skinny as he was.

Rob poured three-fourths of the protein powder straight into the sink, turning the faucet on and running the garbage disposal so it wouldn’t clog. Taking the container with him, he hefted the five-pound bag of sugar and tore at the top of the heavy paper bag. Only to scowl, his fingers not strong enough to actually rip through the thick material. Goddamn, he hated his brothers. He could just hear Dan jeering in his ear about how weak he was. He didn’t have girl’s hands!

Grabbing the nearest knife, Rob stabbed into the bag, tearing the instrument out and pouring the sugar into the nearly empty protein powder container. He didn’t need to be strong; he was fucking smart. Once the plastic jar was filled, he replaced the wide cover and gave the powder a good shake to mix the contents. He got back on the chair, putting the container back where he had found it.

His brothers mixed the stuff into everything. Everything. It wouldn’t take long before they started getting fat, then they’d see how terrible it was to make fun of someone because of their body. Rob couldn’t help that he was short and thin. It was just the way he had been born. Just because his three older brothers had been born looking like Greek gods didn’t give them the right to treat him like shit. Fuck them.

Putting the chair back, Rob had a moment of quiet worry, his gaze sliding up to the cabinet. They always mixed the powder in stuff, usually flavorful stuff because it tasted like crap. He was pretty sure none of his brothers would be able to tell.

He snorted, grabbing the empty bag of sugar and crumpling it between his hands, then stuffing it into his backpack. He’d dump the evidence at school. He didn’t want to risk anyone seeing the bag in the house trash. No, he was fucking brilliant and didn’t have to worry about shit. His older brothers were a bunch of idiot jocks. Like they’d fucking figure it out?

***

It was after five before the once nearly empty house was full, Frank, Dan, and Joey coming home, sweat still clinging to them from their time working out. They all beelined it to the kitchen, crashing through the house like a small herd of animals. Their parents wouldn’t be home till much later seeing as it was their weekly date night, meaning the boys had to fend for themselves for dinner. Rob was nowhere to be found but the sound of the shower could be heard from the downstairs bathroom. Joey’s expression was grim as he scolded the eldest of the three tall, tanned, dark-haired brothers for his earlier comment.

“You know how sensitive Robbie gets, Frank. You really shouldn’t have said that. Not in front of the entire team.” Joey’s hair was longer than the other three, black and shoulder length with a soft curl that was currently dripping sweat while he chugged a bottle of water.

Frank, the tallest and strongest of the three, looked far from apologetic as he reached above the refrigerator and grabbed the protein powder from the cabinet. His hair was short with bangs that teased over his forehead when they weren’t spiked back. “Come on, Joey, the kid gets asthma walking to the fucking mailbox. He can’t join the team. Those guys would break Rob to pieces and you know it.”

Joey flinched, his kind, gray eyes full of worry as he imagined their petite, slim-limbed brother trying to go up against an entire football team. Rob was just too small and delicate even if he was all punk attitude.

“Besides,” Frank continued, taking the glasses Dan handed him and putting the three out on the table. “You know what Johnson would pull if Rob even stepped near a fucking tryout. No way in fuck I’m letting that happen.”

At Frank’s unhelpful lack of explanation, Joey turned with furrowed brows to Dan, the youngest of the three rolling his deep blue eyes back at him.

“Seriously, Joey? Don’t you fucking pay attention? Johnson’s been perving on Robyn for a fucking year now. You really want to let that creep near our little brother?” The glass clinked, Dan stirring milk into his protein shake. “Rob doesn’t know how to handle himself with a guy like that. Johnson would have the kid stripped and on his knees sucking cock in five minutes flat.”

His spoon held in his hand like a knife, Joey pointed it straight at Dan’s face, the brunette’s expression dark. “Could you please not put that mental image in my head, asshole? I will stab that fucker if he touches my Robbie.”

Dan and Frank exchanging a silent look, Frank carefully pulled the spoon from Joey’s hand. “Yeah, well, to save you from a life sentence in prison for murder with spoon, I made sure the kid wouldn’t step near the field,” Frank said flatly, using the spoon to stir his own drink. He dumped a final scoop of powder into Joey’s glass, replacing the lid to the container. “Robyn is too sensitive for sports. Remember when he tried to play kickball, then spent an hour bawling when he stepped on that butterfly?”

“Come on, he was ten,” Joey reminded, unable to stop a small smile from gracing his lips. Robbie had always been ridiculously adorable. It was kind of hard not to pick on him. He had the cutest face and just got so worked up over everything. How could you not want to piss him off until he threw a little hissy fit? Robbie’s beautiful, violet-blue eyes would flash angrily and he’d always try to take a swing at you even though the kid had the scrawniest damn arms. Of course, it always ended in tears, the boy so emotional, he’d be hiccuping by the time the older brothers relented.

Joey admitted to a dark, secret thrill in seeing his little brother cry, especially when Robbie would cling to him for comfort after, burying his face against his chest until he finally calmed.

Joey slowly frowned, growling internally when his mind flashed for a second on Nate Johnson who had started hanging out with the three of them more, always asking to come over to the house. If that fucker so much as looked at Robbie funny, he was going to beat the guy’s face bloody. He’d beaten guys for less when it came to his little brother. All but Frank and Dan, who he shared an unspoken agreement with to back off when things got too rough when picking on their little brother.

Maybe it was time to teach Robbie how to take care of himself. If a creep like Johnson was looking at the kid…

“He asked me to show him how to get strong,” Joey said after a moment, meeting Dan and Frank’s eye as his glass was handed to him. “He wants to learn how to fight.”

“Like fuck,” Frank growled. “The kid would be fighting everyone that looked at him sideways. He’s too mouthy, too undisciplined—Way too angry all the time.”

Dan agreed with a grin, raising his glass. “Besides, if Robyn was strong, then he wouldn’t be our cute little sis anymore.” They each took a sip from their respective drinks, Joey immediately spitting his back into his cup when the overwhelming flavor of sugar hit his tongue. Frank and Dan slowly followed suit, their eyes growing dark.

“Son of a whore—Didn’t we just get this stuff?” Frank tore the lid off the protein mix, scooping the powder up and putting it in front of Joey so his brother could inspect it. It was clearly sugar, the crystals unmistakable, large and nonclumping.

“The little bitch,” Dan growled lowly.

“He must have been really pissed,” Joey muttered, going to the sink and dumping his glass down the drain. He cupped some of the running water into his hand, rinsing his mouth from the teeth-itching sweet flavor.

“Yeah, but sugar? He knows that can kill you, Joey.”

Joey shrugged but his expression was grim as he glared down while the sink drained. Robbie had never tried to get him to eat sugar before. Watching his older brother take daily injections of insulin since the age of seven had set a line none of the Conner brothers had dared to cross before. “You know how he gets when he’s angry. He forgets shit. Says and does things he doesn’t really think out.”

“I’m the one that called him a cheerleader,” Frank said with a growl, tossing the protein powder straight into the garbage bin. “He should have come at me.”

“We all use the powder. Rob knows as much,” Joey reminded reasonably. “He wasn’t just going after me.”

“Fuck, fine, what the fuck are we going to do about it?” Frank fixed his forgiving brother with a hard look. “That shit was expensive and we can’t have Robyn dosing the diabetic with a daily shot of sugar. He’s got to stop with this shit already. It’s getting old, man.”

Joey sighed, slumping against the sink. “Come on, guys, you’re just going to get the kid more upset. You can’t keep picking on him. He’s never going to grow up if you’re always on his case about shit.”

Frank and Dan exchanged another look, Dan stepping up and whispering into his taller brother’s ear. Joey watched them warily, his arms folded over his chest.

“It’s just a punishment, Joey,” Frank assured him. “So Rob won’t do it again. Think of it like training.”

“Like fuck,” Joey said with a scowl. “What are you going to do, duct tape him to the door again? Robbie was pissed for weeks and only acted out more. This prank war hasn’t helped anything.”

Snickering at the memory, Dan shook his head. The boy’s eyes were full of mischief, Joey even more anxious to see. “Nope, I think it’s time our little bro grew into a full-fledged woman.”

“Damn it. You guys know that shit pisses him off the most,” Joey growled in exasperation. “He’s tired of us calling him a girl.”

“He looks like one,” Frank said flatly. “He’s sure underhanded and bitchy like one. And if Rob keeps this shit up, we’re just going to have to treat him like the girl he is.”

Joey inhaled sharply, his stomach tightening against his will. A part of him loved the idea of Rob as a girl. It was the same part that used to love to tease the boy merciless until he’d cry and cling to him, whimpering into his shirt front. For the longest time growing up, Robyn had been their little sister and it was really hard to let go of seeing the boy silky and in pink. But Rob wasn’t a girl, he was a really angry boy who had been a total pain in the ass lately. One that he really wanted to protect from whatever revenge Frank and Dan had up their sleeve. His other brothers knew Joey could take care of himself but because of his illness, they still felt the need to overreact. Something he was pretty sure the two were going to do again as Dan suddenly bounded down the stairs and out of the front door right after flashing Frank a grin.

Fixing his remaining brother with a glare, Joey pushed himself from the sink. “What the fuck did you mean by that? What are you going to do to him?”

“You mean, what are we going to do to him.” Frank wasn’t intimidated by Joey’s scowl, returning it with a tilted chin. “You’re the one babying him, Joey. You let Rob get away with all kinds of shit.”

“I have to,” Joey said reasonably, used to this particular argument. “You guys are total asshats to him. He thinks we all hate him.”

Frank wasn’t impressed. “We just say shit, bro. Robyn’s been a total terror. He poured soda in our beds, put glue in the shampoo and I’m pretty sure he’s the one that left out Dan’s porn for mom to find. He told Jessica that we all have crabs and that—”

Joey sighed heavily, running his hand through his shoulder length hair. “Fine, I get it. He’s been a total dick lately. Just, you freaking out on him isn’t helping shit.”

Frank shrugged, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of orange juice instead. “You babying him hasn’t done shit either. You notice when it all started?”

Joey thought back but couldn’t really pinpoint when Rob had started being quite so angry. A few years back he had gotten really defiant about mom pretending he was a girl but it had only been recent that the kid had started pulling these stupid and sometimes dangerous pranks.

“Well, I noticed,” Frank spoke up when Joey didn’t have an answer. “It started when he was passed over for that bit in the school play.”

Blinking, Joey nodded after a moment in agreement. That could have been about the time.

Frank poured him a much smaller glass of juice, handing it over. When Joey went to take the glass, Frank didn’t let go, meeting his brother’s eyes steadily. “The play you prep’d him for like two weeks straight. Where he kept making doe eyes at you until you were wrapped around his finger.”

Huffing in annoyance, Joey rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, he’s a good kid. Annoying at times but he’s—”

“Joey, he’s in love with you,” Frank interrupted curtly. “Head over fucking heels. Absolutely, completely smitten with you.”

Nostrils flaring, Joey put more pressure into his grip until Frank relented the glass. He drank it down like a shot, trying to ignore the way the cold liquid felt like lead in his gut, heat rising over his skin in an anxious wave. “That’s crazy,” he finally said after the silence had stretched on too long, his voice gruff.

Frank was unaffected, looking completely at ease. “It’s pretty obvious. Robyn threw that hissy when you started dating that chick from the next town over. He sulked the entire time, you know, when he wasn’t spreading rumors about the three of us and hiding all our fucking shit. Dan figured it out before I did,” he added as if Dan thinking the same thing confirmed it all. “I was ready to hold the little brat out of a window by his ankles until Dan spoke up.”

“This is crazy,” Joey muttered, turning and rinsing his glass to give him something to do with his hands while his mind reeled. He glared over his shoulder, his expression full of accusation. “You’re just saying this shit to get me to agree to whatever terrible you’re about to do.”

“He loves you, Joe. He was auditioning for the role of a chick—”

“There weren’t any male roles!”

“Yet he still wanted to be in the fucking play,” Frank replied, his eyes narrowed on the way his brother’s face was flushed in anger. “Believe me, Robyn is in need of facing some facts about himself and that is not going to happen if you don’t face the fact that our little bro wants your dick. Bad.”

Glaring stonily out the small window that looked into their backyard, Joey held his tongue. There had been times, glances, sometimes hugs that had gone a little too long that had made him wonder. But that had been a while ago and he had told himself it had all been in his head.

“He doesn’t,” Joey said, sighing softly. “He really doesn’t and you’re going to freak him out if you suggest such a thing. The kid is angry enough, Frank.”

Giving his younger brother a calculating look, Frank tilted his head, indicating Joey should follow. After a moment, Joey did, dragging his feet as they walked down the hall past the bathroom, stopping in front of Rob’s room. There was a pretty pink unicorn superglued to the boy’s door covered in swipes of black sharpie. One of Dan’s jokes after Rob had deliberately erased one of his video game saves. Mom had set aside a room just for the girl she had always wanted. Instead, her Robyn had been born a Rob and the woman had still insisted her youngest get a room of his own. It used to be all pink until Rob had finally put his foot down a few years back.

Frank pushed the door open, stalking immediately to Rob’s backpack. The room was painted a mellow sage green, no remnants of the soft pink and white lace curtains their mother had inadvertently tormented her son with in view.

Maybe it had been all their faults. Just, Rob had never really seemed to mind. He used to like his pink clothes, used to like getting to wear socks with fun patterns and do twirls to show off his latest dress. It was really easy to forget that their little sister was a boy, especially when it was just so easy to make Robyn cry.

“Come on, Frank, don’t go through his stuff…” Joey trailed off, Frank pulling out the empty bag of sugar from Rob’s pack. Gnawing on his lip, Joey didn’t say anything when Frank turned the bag over, searching for whatever evidence he was determined to find. He looked around the room again, taking in the posters on the wall Rob had started putting up. Most were of girls in elaborate, funky clothes from school girl outfits combined with combat boots and crazy, sparkling pigtails to a wall dedicated to leather, gothed out vamp girls. They had a subtle sexuality to them, very subtle when compared to some of the posters Frank kept on his side of their shared room. Rob was young in a lot of ways still, Joey reminded of it at every turn.

Grunting, Frank continued his search, finding what he was looking for deep in the pages of Rob’s math book.

Joey sighed heavily when Frank held up the photo that had been carefully hidden away, his own face staring back in a quiet, easy-smiling pose. Fuck.

 

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A Mate Of His Own #1

HEAT: Abducted To Be His Mate
Exclusive Library
Ryan Moss is a werewolf long separated from his pack. He has no idea how dangerous his heat is until he finds himself stalking down the closest available bachelor. Unfortunately for Ryan, his wolf finds Shane Cooper, the gay bashing, angry, rich punk that’s been tormenting him for the last ten years.

Even though Ryan hates Shane, his wolf won’t be denied. Against all sanity, he bites the blond and drags him home to mate.

Bound and trapped in Ryan’s basement, Shane plots his escape. He has no interest in being anyone’s mate, especially to his long time rival. If only his body would stop betraying him, seeking out first touch and then pain, things Ryan knows how to gift just right.

Ryan discovers that underneath his lust and resentment, he might just love his angry mate. But after what he’s done, can Shane ever forgive him enough to see him as worthy?

This short story of over 23,000 words contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Although featuring mating/breeding with werewolf anatomy that knots and ties, there is no mpreg.

23,000+ wrds, Published June 3, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT HEAT

on July 2, 2016
Best! Abduction! Ever!
Reader beware, this is downright dirty and oh so hot. The writer puts you smack in the middle of that basement and holds you down until the very end.
on May 16, 2017
For a long time I have been searching for a book like this one and almost gave up hope, thinking it too taboo of a subject. I’m beyond ecstatic to have found this book and will probably read again before the year is out!
on June 26, 2016
That was steam. I love the dirty talk. This was a great domain book. You get to understand how freeing the sub feels and know his mental issues. Take out that and still hot read. I will definitely b looking at more books from this author.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Ryan Moss had just stepped in the door and already regretted coming to school. He could feel the heat coming over him, each wave stronger than the last and threatening to cascade into a fever he wasn’t sure he could contain. He had to, he had exams and classes and needed to keep his fucking shit together. It was just getting surprisingly difficult.

He hadn’t actually expected to actually feel hot but, fuck, he was seriously sweating. His backpack felt attached to his flesh, his thin t-shirt nothing more than a second skin at this point. He had jogged to school like he always did, the morning air a cool contrast to the exercise, but his body wasn’t responding right. He had gotten there in half the time, his first class not starting for another twenty minutes. The muscles of his strong, tanned, six-foot-seven-inch frame were bulging and currently drenched with moisture, his dark bangs dripping into his pale eyes covered by sunglasses. He didn’t dare take the lenses off; his normally deep blue eyes had turned nearly white, his pupils a pinprick and reflecting the torment of his inner wolf.

Fuck, he was feeling really hot. Horny. Had he mentioned horny? Crazy, hot, and horny. He was about ready to hump the library book drop-off slot, he was feeling so crazy. Damn Mr. Menson and his fucking calculus exam.

His older brother Will had warned him, had told him how it hadn’t mattered how determined and focused he was, there was no fighting the heat. But Will wasn’t like him. Will belonged in the woods with the rest of their family while Ryan passed with the humans. No one had pegged him for a werewolf the last twenty years of his life and if he could just make it through this week, he was damn sure he could make it through a lifetime pretending to be two-legged and furless with an actual fucking career.

Being the first werewolf to graduate in his family probably would have been a bigger deal if his family gave a fuck. They didn’t. Ryan was a bit of the laughingstock with his wild relatives who were more than happy to dance under the moon after howling and hunting their dinner first. Not that he had anything against being a wolf. But times were changing—Fuck, they were already so changed that the pack was facing extinction. His family was screwing around in the woods instead of learning how to defend their land from the encroaching companies looking to mine through land and animal alike for dwindling fossil fuels.

Maybe it was unrealistic to hope his wild cousins would skin up and lawyer up after a lifetime of rooting around in the forest. Maybe he was a total tool for thinking he could fix what they had failed to even attempt. Well, besides the murdering. The pack had gotten damn good at killing the poor innocents that trespassed on their land for drilling. It was a problem, one Ryan was hoping to eventually solve no matter how dismissive his family got about him leaving the pack.

And fuck, now he was hard.

What part of needing to become the smartest fucking werewolf out there and get into law was getting him hard?

Growling to himself, Ryan pulled at his shirt, the soaked material stubbornly sticking to his skin even though he was in the air-conditioned hallway that led to his class. It did nothing helpful, his nerve endings tingling from the simple feel of fabric against his flesh, his nipples peaking, cock twitching. His calculus class was right after his first-period history class with Mr. Edwards. He just needed to get through the stupid exam and he could go home and masturbate until he was raw.

This thought hot in the forefront of his mind, Ryan forced himself to walk towards his next class, trying to ignore the way his skin was tingling, his muscles puffed up too large, stature too aggressive and intimidating. He knew he was acting more wolf than man that day and he was having a hard time curbing the beast. It was horny—unbearably horny—and the damn thing kept fixating, staring at every person that dared close, scenting, seeking. Thank fuck the place was nearly deserted. Showing up early had one good advantage. God, he needed sex. Preferably with a drop dead sexy guy with strong thighs and hard abs. Someone strong enough to handle the marathon of fucking his wolf was up for. It would be a marathon. A week at least, if he found a sexy enough body he could convince to spread for him.

“Mr. Cooper, I was clear with you. Take it up with the Administration board if you think you’re being treated unfairly. I don’t care. Just get the hell out of my class.”

“Bullshit! Do you even know how much money my parents donate to this shit joke of a school? I need to pass this course!”

Ryan rolled his eyes as Shane Cooper’s privileged, snobby ass voice reached his super sensitive hearing through the door that led to his first class of the day. Shane and him had gone to grade school together, giving Ryan many a year to hate the obnoxious bully. Shane thought he was better than everyone. More so, that he deserved to be better than everyone just because the kid’s parents were richer than fuck. Ryan had spent the better part of his education finding himself in competition with the rich snob. Not because he was trying to compete with the kid but because Shane hated anyone smarter than him. Ryan was happy to say he was fucking smarter. He was stronger, faster, and had all intentions of beating Shane Cooper at anything the annoying fucker challenged him at. Seeing the blond’s face flushed with anger every time he beat him only made it sweeter.

Professor Edwards seemed even less impressed with Shane’s parents if Ryan guessed by the man’s next words. “I have warned you numerous times what would happen if you continued to be late for my class, Mr. Cooper. If you can’t be bothered to show up on time, I can’t be bothered to teach you.”

Ryan could see where this was going, two other students already kicked out of their history class since the semester started. Shane apparently could too, his tone changing to one of pleading. “I told you, I have swimming practice. I get here as soon as humanly possible and—”

“It is not my fault that you didn’t plan your schedule better. Perhaps dropping my class would be a boon to you.”

“Damn it, please, Professor. I need this class. Can we work something out? I’m sure you could use a little help towards retirement and I’m always happy to donate to education.”

“Fucktard,” Ryan sighed. He counted silently to himself, giving his professor enough credit for not actually slugging the annoying brat.

“Mr. Cooper, I will give you a week to allow you to reconsider your stance on this particular topic.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I mean I will be informing the Dean of this conversation. If you are seen on school property during the next week, you will be permanently expelled. The next time you arrive for my class in a week’s time you can either be on time or expect to be removed from it. Now leave.”

The door to the class snapped open, Ryan stepping back before Shane could storm into him. The tall blond stopped short on seeing him, his angry scowl only growing. “Get the fuck out of my way, faggot.”

Ryan refused, too busy staring at the angry boy. Shane Cooper was the absolute bane of his existence but today his wolf was at the surface and the animal didn’t seem to give a fuck about that. No, it was too busy howling at the way Shane’s broad shoulders stretched his stupid preppy shirt and his designer jeans clung to his hips and tight, muscular ass. Damn, he could fuck that. Hell, he wouldn’t even have to bag the kid—Shane was hot all around except for his ugly-ass mouth with the stupid shit he was always saying. His dirty blond hair was kept short and spiky, making his nearly black eyes look even more intense when the kid glared at him. All he’d have to do is gag the annoying punk and then he could happily fuck him senseless. Shane would look good in a gag. In a gag and absolutely nothing else.

Closing his eyes, Ryan took a steadying breath and tried to calm his suddenly pounding heart. Fuck, he really shouldn’t have come in today. He had to be fucked in the head to ever think of Shane Cooper as fuckable. He hated Shane. Absolutely hated him.

There had been a time when Shane had been taller than him. The blond had taken huge amounts of joy in it even though Ryan had always been able to outrun the annoying fucker. Now Ryan’s bicep was nearly thicker than Shane’s head. Even though he was well aware of it, the blond who was half a head shorter than him seemed oblivious as he snarled and went to push past him.

Shane hit him square in the chest but Ryan didn’t budge, a soft growl rising up from the brunette as he caught a whiff of the boy’s scent. Holy fuck, yeah, he could totally hit that. Not only did he look like sex, the kid smelled like it too. Ryan’s wolf gave another inner howl, heat rushing over his skin like wildfire.

“I said, get the fuck out of my way, you fudge packing, panty wearing fairy!” Shane went to shove him but Ryan was faster. He grabbed the blond’s wrist, ignoring the hiss it was met with when he squeezed too tight. Shane might have thought he was tough shit, but against a werewolf, the boy’s perfect swimmer’s body might as well have been ornamental. With an angry snarl, Shane went to punch him with his free hand, Ryan easily catching that one as well and pinning it in his larger palm.

Looking into the boy’s dark, wide eyes, Ryan did everything he could to fight the beast inside him that was demanding he push Shane Cooper against the wall, tear his tight jeans down, and fuck him raw.

“Moss, get the fuck off me.”

There was a new tightness to the blond’s voice, something that broke through the hazy heat trying to steal Ryan’s mind completely. Shane was not a werewolf. Fuck, he wasn’t even a potential mate—The kid was an angry, gay hating, rich punk that couldn’t face the real world without his parents’ money to fix all his fuck ups.

God, but he smelled so fucking good. Looked so fucking tight and hard and fucking hot. The stupid fucker could get in his face and talk shit all he liked, just as long as he kept smelling like that. Fuck, he wanted to rape him. Just a little. Just until the blond was begging. He could make Shane beg. He could make him beg like a good bitch. Or just cripple the annoying fucker and do whatever the fuck he wanted to him.

Fuck, he was turning into a total psycho. Ryan dropped Shane’s hands before he could convince himself otherwise, turning and taking two large strides away, his breath loud in his ears. The heat was only getting stronger and the annoying little punk just smelled so good to him. Bullshit—Fucking bullshit. He hated Shane.

“What the fuck is your problem, Moss?” Shane snapped, rubbing his wrist, a red mark threatening to turn purple where the brunette had grabbed him. “Choke on the wrong side of the dick today?”

God, he fucking hated him. Ryan started down the hall, not caring if he missed his history class and failed his calculus exam. He needed to get the fuck out before he did something stupid and potentially dangerous. He should have listened to his brother. Should have never tried to fight his wolf nature and just hid away in the woods until the heat left him. Fuck, he could still smell the annoying fucker!

Ryan whirled, Shane right behind him, the blond’s expression twisted in a wicked smirk suggesting he was about to make another rude, smart-ass remark. “Get the fuck away from me, Cooper.”

“Like fuck, you faggot freak. I think you sprained my wrist. I’m totally going to sue your pansy ass for assault.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryan tried to take a steadying breath. It might have worked on a normal day but today his vision was full of a throbbing red that had never been there before, his blood pounding loud in his ears, muscles tense with restrained force. Every inhale only surrounded him with more of the strange, enticing scent of the blond before him, and it was everything he could do to keep his hands at his sides.

“I’m going to take you for everything you own, Moss. All twenty-five dollars and seventeen cents.”

Asshole. The motherfucking asshole. He went to turn away, growling when he felt Shane move, the blond rushing forward to shove him. Snapping around, he grabbed Shane by the collar, slamming him hard against the wall of lockers no one ever used but the college insisted on having.

“Shit,” Shane hissed, grabbing uselessly at the large hand effortlessly holding him in place. He stilled when Ryan pulled his sunglasses free, nearly white, inhuman eyes staring back at him. “What the fuck?”

“You really don’t want to mess with me right now,” Ryan said, his voice a low, husky growl, strange pale eyes burning into Shane’s. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, inhaling deeply of the blond’s scent and listening to Shane’s breath hitch in surprise. Sexy. So fucking angry and sexy. The things he would do to this kid. Nasty, degrading things and it would be so easy.

“Be good for me, Cooper,” Ryan murmured, letting his lips press to the boy’s jaw for a fleeting second, his dick throbbing from the light contact. “Be good and shut that sexy mouth of yours for one damn minute so I can get the fuck out of here.” He let the blond go abruptly, immediately regretting it as he took a step away, his piercing gaze pinning Shane in place. Fuck, it would be so easy. Shane was weak and he was strong. His wolf knew what that meant. The creature understood all too well what happened to weak things that crossed their path. They were used. Broken. Devoured in all the many ways one could devour a hot, tasty morsel like Shane Cooper.

Daring him on, he flashed the blond a condescending smile, Shane’s eyes widening when he caught sight of Ryan’s elongated fangs. He watched uncertainty flicker on the blond’s face, quickly replaced by hot embarrassment and anger as Shane pushed himself off the wall of lockers and took a stalking step towards him. It felt like slow motion to Ryan’s enhanced wolf senses when the blond pulled his arm back, winding up to punch him like the hotheaded, tasty bitch he was.

Grinning fiercely, Ryan grabbed the boy by the bicep, spun him with a rough wrench, and slammed him chest first against the lockers, pinning him with his chest and hips. Before he could fully understand what he was doing, Ryan’s fangs slid deep into the juncture where Shane’s neck met his shoulder, hot, tangy blood flowing onto his tongue in a gush. Fuck, yeah.

Shane gave a pained howl, his face going pale, body tensing then going limp from the sudden, overwhelming pain. Ryan barely noticed, his senses filled with the scent of the boy’s flesh and sweat, the taste of his perfect blood and feel of his hard body against his. Groaning lowly, he rocked his hips forward, rubbing his aching erection against the strong globes of the blond’s ass, humping him in rough, erratic thrusts while gripping Shane’s hip painfully tight. He came with a grunt, his fangs slicing deeper and flooding more blood, a growl ripping through him as he slammed the boy’s limp body forward and ground his orgasm against Shane’s tight cheeks.

His. Fuck, Shane Cooper was his.

 

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Bullying Teacher : Episode #5

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Picking up where book 4 left off, in the last installment of Bullying Teacher, Darien must find a way to break through Beau’s silence and insecurity to finally get the man to see their connection. He’s been working on his teacher for weeks but Beau just can’t seem to understand just how much he truly cares.

Darien hunts down the man that hurt his teacher but he still faces a dilemma. Frustrated with Beau’s continued refusal to reach out to him in times of need, Darien decides a proper punishment is in order, enlisting three of his very muscular, large friends to help assist in the night’s lesson.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016

Theresa rated it it was amazing

Shelves: keepers
4.5 stars Really good humiliation smut. Awesome DP scene. Syrupy sweet ending.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Pulling a cigarette free, Darien lit it up in the hall the moment he stepped outside Beau’s classroom. His teach was trying to get some food down and he just needed to get the fuck out and breathe for a second. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something, and scream, and hunt down and destroy the fucker that had hurt his Beau. Instead, he was going to smoke for a minute then go back in and pretend he wasn’t a fucking mess inside so that the blond could feel safe.

Why the fuck hadn’t Beau called him?

He looked over to where Roland was typing on his phone, the man doing his magic with the guys back at their office to find every bit of information available on Collin Hayward. Darien hadn’t bothered to tell Beau that the business he had started when he was back in high school involved the finding of sensitive information and then the blackmailing of people that gave a fuck about if that information was shared. He had started the company with a few ex-military friends, some he had gone to school with, some who he knew from other connections. Once, he had thought he’d be using them just to find out if his father was looking to fuck with his life again. Now he had a feeling he might have to see if Roland knew how to hide a body depending on how bad the night went.

“Do you want me to call in a doctor?”

Darien shook his head sharply. “Not unless he asks for one.”

“Boss, he was practically catatonic when we got here. For all we know, his brain took a bruising from that hit to his face.”

Blowing a steady stream of smoke, Darien didn’t bother to answer. His teach could take a punch. He had seen him take worse at the hands of Blake and his bitch friends and hadn’t missed a fucking beat. No, his teach had gotten down on his knees, sucked him off like a pro, and then rode his fingers until he came. Pain was not a deterrent for the blond but an aphrodisiac. If Beau wanted a doctor, he’d ask. It was one of the many rules they had set up to make sure the blond wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Except, even with everything Darien had done, Beau had still managed to get hurt the second he was out of his sight.

Beau wouldn’t let him hire a bodyguard. It had been a huge sore spot for Darien, one that he was pretty sure was about to blow up after this. He just wanted to have a familiar guy with his teach, someone he could trust to make sure nothing went down when he couldn’t be there. But Beau thought he was being silly. The man didn’t want people thinking he was someone special or some stupid shit like that. But Beau was special. His teach was his fucking life and today had been a new kind of hell for Darien when the man hadn’t shown up for dinner.

He shouldn’t have let him leave without a bodyguard. He should have locked the man up in the fucking house and made him quit his shitty job. There was just something about Beau, something in his eyes that called to certain individuals to feed his need for pain. It made them want to hurt him, use him, and when his pretty teach was in the right headspace, Beau loved ever second of it and begged for more. But that was only when he was in that headspace and with someone that actually gave a fuck enough to figure out what he liked.

Tears. Fucking tears in those beautiful blue eyes, and not in a sexy way. No, in a fucking helpless way that wrenched Darien’s heart too painful to fathom. Beau could take a fucking punch but this thing, whatever had happened, it had hurt him in a way pain didn’t. He was doing his damndest to not imagine just how exactly that could have been.

“I gotta make some calls,” he finally said, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel and scraping it into the tile. “I want that fucker found, and I want him brought here tonight.”

“Here?” Roland looked up, pulling a second phone out while he continued typing one-handed on the first. “The school?”

Darien nodded, ignoring the questioning look his head of security was sending him. He needed to make sure that whatever had happened hadn’t fucked up his pretty teach forever. Beau had a special kind of wiring, one that demanded the right knowledge and a skilled touch. He knew the longer the problem stretched on and festered, the harder it would be to get Beau feeling like himself again. He wanted things taken care of asap. The fact that part of it involved beating the shit out of the deadman that had touched his Beau was just a total perk.

“We got him,” Roland called out before the boy could leave, pushing off the wall. “He just used his credit card in a restaurant less than twenty minutes away.”

“Danny?”

“Already on the way with Jordan. How do you want this guy brought in, boss?”

Darien considered, eying the picture Roland held up on the screen of his phone. “Keep him pretty. I want to fuck him up myself. Let me know when they get him here, but not in front of the teach.”

Roland nodded, texting as Darien spoke. “The guys dug up some more shit on him. Hayward was in a heavy scene about five years back. Used to frequent an underground club. Few regulations, lots of drugs. They were known for some pretty fucked up doms. A young man ended up dead and the place was shut down. Looks like Hayward’s aunt threw some money at some people and no one is saying shit.” He glanced up when Darien growled, fixing the boy with a look. “Hey, this is good news. With info like this, you have this guy by the balls.”

Darien just grunted, fighting back his anger and the pit of seething emotion beneath it. “You remember that kid I asked you to keep an eye on a few weeks back? Sutor’s brother, Rich? Did he ever get back to us on that thing we discussed?”

Roland nodded, already flipping through his other phone. “He seemed agreeable enough to it. Clean record. Able to listen.”

“I want him down here.” Hopefully, it would fix it.

In that moment, he felt like he was fighting fire with fire while holding onto the foolish hope the place wouldn’t burn down. But that was what Darien did. Every day he pushed forward, demanded the best from himself and everyone around him, and he prayed he wouldn’t trip and be stopped flat. Being with Beau had changed that. He had been allowed to take a beautiful soul and feed it, nurture it and give his teach everything the man could ever desire and he had felt at peace from it. Until someone had tried to take his teach away from him. Now Darien was back to trying to keep ahead of the consequences at breakneck speed while hoping he wouldn’t crash.

He had to suck it up. Push through and keep his eye on the prize along with every other cliche fucking saying that would help him get through this. Not for him but for Beau. His teach needed him strong. Darien didn’t feel strong; he felt absolutely out of control. The one man he gave a fuck about had been assaulted and he hadn’t been able to do a thing. He hadn’t even known until hours later. It didn’t matter what he did to this Hayward dick in retribution, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed Beau, that he could fail him again at any time. He could wrap the blond in fucking bubble wrap and order him to stay at his feet but Beau was going to pursue the things that brought him joy even when pain swiftly followed.

Sighing, he lit up another cigarette. He didn’t take pain as well as Beau did. He didn’t like to feel pain; he liked to push past it and let it spur him into action. Watching his pretty teach take pain was an experience unmatched by any other. The man was beautiful—strong in such a way he was never going to be, and so fucking beautiful. The man embraced the good and the bad, the pleasure and pain, and he transformed it into something beyond with his own body. Beau was fucking magic and didn’t even know it.

It didn’t matter how hard Darien pushed himself. Life wasn’t scripted and there was always something waiting in the dark to try and prey on the weak and unlucky. He could only protect his teach to the best of his ability and hope that Beau would be able to take the burden of pain when he failed. He’d be able to carry his teach through after, but he couldn’t change the fucking world that would break the man in the first place.

 

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Bullying Teacher : Episode #4

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Weeks later, now living with his wealthy student, Beau has lost himself in his relationship with Darien. Full of doubts and insecurity, not to mention a blossoming realization of his true feelings for his muscular master, things go bad in the matter of a day when a new professor arrives.

Collin Hayward has never met Beau, but he knows men just like him, or so he seems to think. Cornered and used, Beau doesn’t know if telling Darien is worth the loss of the one good thing in his life.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on March 3, 2017
on December 25, 2016
on April 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Eyes sliding slowly around the room, Beau tried and failed to relax in the huge bathroom of marble, stainless steel and glass he was in. It was very open, very spacious and he felt both small and exposed whenever he stepped inside the luxurious but sterile room. That was helped by the fact that all the blinds on the floor to ceiling windows had been left open, the early morning light bouncing off each shining white, silver and black surface. Outside the window, an expansive green lawn could be seen, the grounds looking more like they belonged to a golf course than surrounding a person’s home. Or should he say mansion? His student called it home but Beau was fairly certain the only way to classify the building was as a mansion.

He slowly stripped his new silky pajamas off, his eyes drawn to the mirrored wall where he could see himself reflected clearly. From the angle, it looked like he was outside standing on the lush grass instead of the cool marble tile. Slender, toned and lithe, Beau’s blue eyes couldn’t tear away from the red marks wrapping around his thighs and hips in faded slashes. He was always so surprised to see the marks on his creamy flesh in the light of dawn, how they had come to be there feeling like a foggy, heated dream of the evening before. He traced over a thin red welt that ran right across his left nipple, his body jolting as he remembered how he had earned it. Darien had said he was just too pretty, that he had been begging for it so bad the last time he had shown up to class with his pretty teach. The ruler was the only way to deal with such a bad teacher.

It had been a little over two weeks since he had moved in with his student and Beau still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or seconds away from ruining his life.

Stepping around the jacuzzi tub that took up the entire length of the windowed wall, Beau set the electronic shower. The thing could turn into a sauna with a push of a button but he wasn’t the type to indulge in such extravagances. The multiheaded jets that hit him in all the right spots was far more than he was used to. The water hot and steamy, he slipped into the spray, his golden blond hair quickly drenched as he was lost in the sounds and sensations of the shower.

It didn’t matter how much the glass steamed up, Beau still felt exposed, still felt like he was being observed through the large open windows of the bathroom. He wasn’t a vain man even if he was beautiful. He had used to hate how girly he looked, how women would refuse to date him because they thought he was prettier than them. Now he prized his beauty only as much as it gained him the attention of the one person he didn’t want to look away from him. He could be beautiful for Darien. If it kept the young man holding him tight and tying him up, Beau would be as pretty as possible.

There was a camera on the other side of the glass shower wall. He wasn’t sure exactly where, but Darien had insisted when he had first showed him the bathroom, pointing vaguely in the direction. It had been a terrible problem, one Beau had found worse in the mornings when he woke hard and Darien was still asleep. He turned his back to the windowed wall where the camera was supposed to be, one of his hands lightly bracing on the shower wall while his other moved down to his crack, his fingers probing into his hot, tight flesh still sore from the evening before. Darien wouldn’t be up yet, the boy rarely rising before ten am, but Beau had classes to teach and a job to get to. He’d have to wait until after the school day was over to feel the brunette’s claiming touch and get proper relief for the ache already building inside him. It didn’t stop him from driving his fingers deep inside his entrance, bending forward while gasping and putting himself on display for Darien just in case the boy did wake and look at the footage he kept of the bathroom.

That Darien had expressly forbidden him from coming without him present to see only made him harder.

Beau bit his lip, gasping softly under the sound of water hitting his flesh and the tile. It was only the second time he was trying this, still shy since having moved into the large mansion with his student. There weren’t a lot of places where he was alone, Darien usually right next to him. The idea of the boy watching him masturbate in the shower when he wasn’t supposed to was intense for him. He wasn’t even sure if there was really a camera. He wasn’t sure if Darien even looked at it if there was and if anything could be seen past the steam. But touching himself in such an open, spacious room felt hot like anyone could just walk by and see.

He really wanted Darien to see him. Really wanted the boy to know he was thinking of him with every plunge of his fingers into his passage.

His calves straining, he spread his legs wider on the slightly coarse stone floor that kept him from slipping. He clenched around his fingers, groaning lowly only to cover his mouth. Noises still made him feel like he was crossing a line and he could only allow himself so much before he got too shy. If Darien had been there, it would have different, but alone, Beau’s courage was very limited. Not that it was courage that had him riding his own fingers and whimpering desperately under his breath with each stroke that failed to hit his prostate. No, it was a mix of need and shame and giddy anticipation of the many things Darien had already done to him and would hopefully continue to do.

There was a noise under the sounds of the shower spray, Beau stilling his movements and pressing his face against the warming tile. His lashes dripping droplets of water, he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of his tight entrance when no new sounds were heard. He wanted to pretend he was being watched, his body flushed and tingling at the very thought. Darien had a slew of nameless servants that breezed through rooms silent as could be. On more than one occasion, he had been in the middle of a session with his student only to catch a glimpse of a person watching as they stepped by the door.

Beau groaned lowly, his muscles straining as he imagined those faceless people watching him now. He came with a cry, his passage clenched painfully tight around his fingers as he shoved them as deep as they could reach. Moaning, he ran his tongue over the immaculate tile wall, wishing he had a dildo or just his very large student to take him properly.

Hell, even alone he was getting messed up. He had to wonder if it was Darien doing it to him or just the craziness inside that had been allowed to be let lose.

The shower door clicked open, Beau gasping and staring straight ahead at the shower tile as cool air rushed into the enclosed space. For a frozen eternity, he questioned who it could be because he had yet to see Darien up this early. A servant? Maybe a relative of Darien’s that was wondering who the fucked up man was masturbating in the boy’s shower?

“Bad, teach. Very fucking bad.”

Melting at the words and the boy they belonged to, Beau raised his head, peeking over his shoulder. Darien was standing in the shower doorway, his muscular chest bare and tanned, black tattoos running over his thick biceps possessively. His hair was mussed from sleep, the boy dressed hastily in a pair of low hanging jeans, the bottoms already wet from the water spraying and bouncing off the floor.

Green eyes glared at him, Beau whimpering when he met that burning stare. He was in trouble and he couldn’t wait to find out what his punishment would be.

 

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