life isn’t . . . In the Ring.
roaring crowd. The chance at a championship belt. The not-so-little secret Liam
Shaughnessy—the Bonny Bruiser—is fighting to keep tucked far away.
out of him on the mean streets of Cin-city—the other Sin City. The oldest in a
Catholic clan where his da never pulled any punches, he went from geek boy to
the golden boy of the boxing world care of his fists. Liam’s on the fast track
to having it all . . . all except the one man he wants.
pretending to be hetero goddamn difficult for Liam. The man is blond and
beautiful and just so happens to be Liam’s trainer. With a penchant for doing
shirtless yoga, giving midnight massages to loosen Liam’s muscles, and
sometimes even taking it out in the ring with him. To say Liam has porn-style
fantasies about Michael is an understatement.
Liam’s only proud of what he can do in the ring. He can’t risk his career,
least of all for someone unavailable. Michael has a lover. Liam has the lies he
lives every day. And when his money-grubbing manager gets involved as the title
win approaches, Liam doesn’t know what hit him.
honor. It won’t be easy, but that’s okay. Nothing worth fighting for ever is.
the feel of Michael touching me, so close. He moved away, leaving me with a
cold wash of air in his wake. Around the corner, a shower turned on, and when I
looked again, Michael was gone. His discarded clothes sat on the bench in front
and insecurity inside. Everyone expected me to climb higher, do better, be bigger—never
weak. I wanted to be less than what I was for just one minute. More than I was,
in someone else’s eyes.
me was Michael, back-to, soaping up. Foam ran down his traps, delts, glutes,
balls. “You checking me out?”
grabbed my arm.
effort I’d put into shutting this unwanted thing
down melted away as his hand curled around my bicep.
my bare chest.
Sensation weakened me, the sheer sexiness of his wet touch swirled inside my
tummy, gripped my groin like a fist.
multiple showerheads. My erection leaped to my belly, big, hard, unmistakable.
Diamond droplets of water slid off Michael’s hair, dripped into his eyes, and
ran down his chest. Down below, the torrent gathered in his curly golden pubes
that circled the base of a shaft that reached upward. Pink, wrapped in pulsing
veins, the entire picture of his cock was so much sexier than any man I’d ever
fucked or any porn I’d ever watched.
Michael stood so close his heat clung to my skin.
against the black stubble on my jaw. “Liam, are you just curious—or gay?
Because this”—his fingertips drifted down my abs which jumped on contact—“is
scorched down to my cock. “No.”
head of my dick.
closer to his reddened lips. To feel them on mine.
curious?” His tongue darted to my earlobe.
trailed along my neck.
and wet, and the other into his hair. “Kiss me if you wanna find out.”
mine. Not like a girl. Nothing near a woman. Stubble, rough mouth, harsh
groans, all man. But for all the force our bodies contained and all the months
of desire coursing through me, our first kiss was sultry, liquid, languid.
I leaned away to look at him.
sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough
trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His
Command. Her latest endeavor, the Carolina Bad Boys series, is fun, hot, and
has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor
to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has
changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during
her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and
wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has
been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is
represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html