Burning Bright

by A. Catherine Noon

  “It’s too soon,” Steve murmured.

  “That’s okay,” Sasha said, coming off him enough to speak. He licked the head, then ran his tongue around it. “I’ll just play with it.”

  Steve chuckled, a playfully wicked sound. “Sure you will.”

  Sasha intended to make Steve come, no matter what he said, but the empathy increased the heat in his chest. He moved in tandem with Neal, his mouth sliding back and forth on Steve’s shaft but with no actual intent on Sasha’s part. It didn’t seem to interfere with their pleasure; on the contrary, his body reacted to all three stimuli and not simply Neal’s movements.

  “It’s like I can feel you inside him,” Steve whispered, eyes closed. “God.”

  Neal grunted but didn’t speak. Instead, he tightened his hands on Sasha’s hips, holding his body steady as he rode into him. Neal’s own orgasm built and an echo grew, deep in Sasha’s balls, as though his body responded to the empathy itself. Sasha’s voice, undone, bounced out of him around the flesh in his mouth. He cupped Steve’s balls in one hand and focused as much attention as he could spare on the big man’s cock. Despite what Steve said, his shaft responded to Sasha’s movements.

  “I’m getting close,” Neal murmured. “Holy shit.”

  “Me too,” Steve agreed, panting.

  Sasha tried to speak but couldn’t. Instead, he squeezed Steve’s cock in his lips and let Neal’s thrusts bounce him back and forth. The orgasm bloomed slowly, like a flower in early spring, and then smashed into all three of them simultaneously.

  He pulled off Steve’s cock for fear of biting him, and kept his hand around the pulsing shaft. Neal cried out and buried himself into Sasha’s body, bending over his back and panting.

  Steve laughed, a delighted sound that brought a grin to Sasha’s lips.

  Neal pulled a towel over and caught himself as he pulled out of Sasha. He cleaned them both up and collapsed onto his back, tossing the towel onto the floor and missing the hamper entirely.

  “Your aim is off,” Sasha chirped.

  “I’d love to see you do better,” Neal retorted.

  Steve said nothing, just slid along Sasha’s back to lie next to him, cradling Sasha’s smaller body against the big black man’s torso.

  Neal flipped the sheet over all three of them and Sasha snuggled tighter against Neal’s body and pulled Steve against his back with his free arm. The other lay pinned under the heavy weight of Neal’s head and the pillow.

  Just like Nirvana.

  Somehow, not getting the job at Northwestern didn’t loom as large anymore. He’d come to Chicago hoping to find his dream career and instead, ended up with much more than that.

  Job hunting could happen any time. As both tigers started their rumbling purrs, vibrating the mattress like a large twin engine, he grinned. Tomorrow could wait. Today, love completed the circle.

  About the Authors

  A. Catherine Noon is an author and textile artist based on Chicago, Illinois. A writer since the age of nine, she enjoys telling stories. Ms. Noon has taught creative writing, creative expression and textile arts, including Artist’s Way workshops. She co-founded the Evanston Writers Workshop, a non-profit writing advocacy group based in Illinois.

  She finds working with Rachel on collaborative projects both fun and rewarding. She also enjoys a full-fledged textile addiction including knitting, needlepoint, and crochet.

  Rachel Wilder dove into the world of writing and has never looked back. She wrote when she was younger and re-discovered it several years ago. Currently living in Las Vegas with her sister and cat, she loves to travel.

  She met A. Catherine Noon through a fan fiction site and they became each other’s betas. It wasn’t long before this mutual partnership became full-fledged collaboration on original fiction, usually with an exotic and erotic bent.

  Rachel hopes you enjoy reading her stories as much as she and her co-author love writing them.

  If you’d like to learn more about them, please visit:

  Website: www.noonandwilder.com

  Blog: http://taurusandtaurus.blogspot.com

  Facebook: Please visit us on Facebook as Noon and Wilder

  To forgive is divine…if he can pin his lover down long enough to beg for it.

  Finding Forgiveness

  © 2011 Dana Marie Bell

  Poconos Pack, Book 1

  Ben Malone’s role as Marshall attunes him to every nuance of the pack’s wellbeing—which means he’s forced to feel every one of his mate’s hangovers. It’s the one reason Ben will never claim Dave Maldonado. Being alone is better than being with someone who lives in a bottle.

  Dave was destined to be a pack Alpha until his first migraine hit at age fifteen, the day he caught his future mate holding hands with another boy. In the nine agonizing years since, he’s contented himself as Beta, but never learned to live with the pain and confusion of Ben’s rejection.

  Dave’s worst attack yet sends him to the hospital—and brings them both face to face with the misunderstanding that’s kept them apart all these years. It’s too late, though. Dave is headed for Gay Pride Week at Disney World with one goal in mind. Forget Ben Malone.

  Ben’s got a problem with that. Only one man is destined to hold his David. And he’ll give anything, even his last shred of pride, to win forgiveness—and the right to finally claim his mate.

  Warning: This book contains explicit sex, graphic language, and male/male love scenes between two top dogs. Who knew Rock Paper Scissors could be such fun?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Finding Forgiveness:

  “Did you scent him?”

  Dave nodded. What kind of teenage hell was this? Ben was leaving things—nasty, flowery, melty, bleeding things—on his back porch and then slinking away like a terrified Scooby-Doo. “The man needs a clue.”

  “Then give him one.” Rick picked up the meat, his brows rising in surprise. “Fresh venison. Straight off the deer.”

  Dave wrinkled his nose. “Ew.” He darted back into the house and grabbed his bottle of Mr. Clean. He doused the back porch and grabbed the hose. “I’d move if I were you.”

  Rick moved. He knew Dave meant it.

  Dave started the hose and rinsed off the blood and disinfectant. “Has he ever heard of ‘I’m sorry’?”

  “Rumor has it he’s been trying to say it, but the women have decided he needs to grovel more.”

  Dave stopped the flow of water and stared at his Alpha. “What?”

  “Yup. They want you to go on vacation and come home, calm, rested and ready to claim your mate. They want Ben to suffer while you’re gone. And they want to have a hand in it so later they can whisper and smirk and look all smug when you two snuggle-bunnies coo at each other.” Rick rolled his eyes. “Hey, I tried to stop them.”

  “But stopping Belle and Chela when they’re on a roll is like trying to stop a hurricane with tissue paper.” Dave leaned against the back wall of his cabin and sighed. “They’re more likely to drive him off than drive him closer. Ben hates games.”

  Rick held up the bloody slab of meat.

  “Don’t ask me. I don’t know what the fuck that’s about.” Dave threw up his hands and got dripped on. He ignored Rick’s chuckles and coiled up the hose. “If he really wants to apologize, why didn’t he knock on the door? Why this stupid-ass shit?”

  “Maybe he thinks it’s romantic.”

  The two men eyed the blood dripping to the ground from Ben’s latest “present”.

  “Nah.”

  Rick laughed and threw the meat in the garbage. Dave had no idea how long it had been sitting out in the sun before they found it, but the scent was already beginning to turn sour. “He gave you flowers and candy and venison steaks. What more does a guy need?”

  “How about actually talking to me?”

  “How about a fifty-two-inch LCD flat screen with surround sound and a vibrating recliner to sit in while watching Jessica Alba in that skin-tight Fantastic Four outfit?”
/>
  Dave blinked. “That’s oddly specific.”

  “Thanks. I’m warming Belle up for our anniversary. Think it’ll work?”

  “Not if you mention Jessica Alba.” Rick had claimed Belle the previous February; it was now nearly June. She’d been Luna for over a year now, and Dave had a good idea how she’d react to her mate’s obsession with Ms. Alba. “You’ve got a ways to go before then.”

  “I know, but maybe I’ll get one of them for Christmas.” Rick winked, as happy and carefree as Dave ever got to see his best friend. But that carefree expression didn’t last long. “Listen. Whatever Ben’s planning, he’s obviously not ready to claim you yet. Go and enjoy your vacation. The women will torture him, you’ll get some sun, and maybe he’ll have gotten his head out of his ass by then.”

  Dave shook his head. “I don’t know. At this point I’m not sure if I want his head on straight or if I should just look for a second mate.”

  Rick looked shocked. “Are you serious?”

  Dave shrugged. “It would be a fresh start with someone new, someone who doesn’t have the baggage Ben and I do. And besides, bloody chunks of meat aside, can you honestly say Ben wants me?”

  Rick opened his mouth to reply, but there was nothing really to be said. All games aside, Dave was pretty sure this was Ben’s way of taking care of his poor, wounded mate. Dave would lay odds it was Ben’s wolf that had pushed him into it too.

  Well, if Dave got a second mate, Ben’s wolf could take a flying leap. He’d have someone to take care of him, thank you very much, and Ben could sit alone and miserable in his cabin while Dave boned and got boned every damn night for the rest of his life.

  “The week I head to Florida?”

  “Yeah?” Rick was giving him a strange look, but Dave couldn’t figure it out.

  “It’s Gay Pride Week.”

  The wolf races in where the human heart trembles to follow.

  Moon Run

  © 2011 Joely Skye

  Wolf Town, Book 3

  Iain’s head has called Wolf Town home for six years. His heart, hurt by a childhood spent suppressing his wolf, won’t let him believe he isn’t one misstep away from exile.

  During the first moon run of the year, the electrifying connection his wolf makes with Teo, the pack’s beta and resident doctor, has potential mate written all over it. Yet the only emotion that rises above the tangled scars of his past is excitement over ensuring a permanent place in Wolf Town.

  Teo can’t believe Iain so easily crashed through his rock-solid resolve never to date within the pack. The young wolf’s artless, fumbling explanation for his attraction only serves to remind Teo why he set those rules—his own past in a dysfunctional pack. Guilt that he let Iain so far under his skin forces Teo to do the one thing his heart rails against. Keep it clinical.

  Teo’s apparent rejection not only breaks Iain’s heart, it triggers a deep-seated desperation that pushes him to take a terrible chance for the sake of the pack. And to show Teo their connection is no illusion.

  Warning: Contains explicit m/m sex for all the wrong reasons, all the right reasons, and a relationship that starts out on the wrong paw.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Moon Run:

  After plonking his beer on the side table, Teo turned back just as Iain reached him. He grabbed Iain by the arms—not what he’d been expecting. He thought Teo would stand, get out of the way. He thought he was chasing Teo out of his apartment so he could stop feeling this shitty emotion of regret and hurt. Too easily hurt, that was him. But he’d forgotten—because his wolf instincts were worth shit—that Teo was beta and didn’t stand down from challenges, even stupid ones from the pack idiot.

  They glared at each other, Teo’s what the fuck expression sapping Iain of some of his anger. He pulled his legs under him, even as Teo continued to hold him, not allowing him closer, not pushing him away either. Iain’s knees now leaned against Teo’s strong thigh, and he reacted. Of course he did.

  Not how it fucking went, this dance. No. But still, the press against that thigh, the pressure of those large hands on his arms—Iain shuddered in reaction. And when Teo didn’t throw him aside, Iain leaned in and placed his face in the crook between neck and shoulder, while his chest rested against Teo’s side.

  Needy. Never enough. It put people off. He should know. He’d done it before. He was always like this, unless they got down to the fucking right away.

  Goddammit. But still he breathed in Teo, soaking up the physical contact…waiting for Teo to gingerly extract himself from this embarrassing display, or for his body to become tense with displeasure at the unexpected embrace.

  Just a little longer…

  What was going on here? Besides the obvious. A part of Teo wanted to shove Iain away, but the idea of sending him sprawling caused Teo pain. It was the oddest embrace he could remember, his hands on a man’s arms while he leaned against him.

  And yet it had been too long. His body was reacting, hard. He was a fool, Teo thought a little grimly, to think he could focus elsewhere. He’d been ignoring his basic nature as if he thought he didn’t require…

  …this.

  Not wanting to leave bruises on Iain’s arms, he slowly relaxed his grip and tried to work out a course of action, a way to extract himself from this situation.

  “Iain,” he said in a low voice.

  “Don’t speak.” The words were muffled against his collarbone. “Better that way. Just…go.”

  There was his out—and yet it wasn’t. Iain was waiting to be pushed away, expecting it, and that bothered Teo. He also didn’t understand. Admittedly he hadn’t paid close attention, but he was pretty sure Iain was popular among the guys who liked guys, and not only in a theoretical way.

  He slid a hand over Iain’s shoulder and down his back, the thin T-shirt allowing him to feel the musculature as well as the bumps dotting Iain’s spine.

  The motion made Iain breathe in hard, and arousal seemed to thicken in the air.

  Don’t lead him on. That was wrong, yes. Teo didn’t do that.

  End it now, Teo told himself sternly, except his conscience, if that’s what it was, faltered. Because ending it here and now, well, that felt wrong too.

  His wolf wanted Iain. That desire had been stifled while Teo kept his distance and practiced medicine in the town. But there was no distance between them at this moment.

  Iain mouthed his neck and Teo jerked.

  “Iain.” The word came out more intense, like a command, and Iain raised his face, darkened eyes gazing into Teo’s, and he could imagine his eyes were similarly black with dilation. “I’m your doctor.”

  The pad of Iain’s thumb came to rest on Teo’s lips, rubbed back and forth over his mouth, and Teo hardened further.

  “No.” Iain traced Teo’s lips. “I don’t like doctors. I don’t go to them. I don’t go to you.” That thumb pressed into the corner of Teo’s mouth, stroked just slightly, making Teo want to open his mouth for a kiss.

  Iain placed his palm on the curve of Teo’s jaw, and he felt mesmerized by this attention to his face.

  “You are not my doctor, okay?”

  “Look—”

  Iain’s lips came to rest on Teo’s, not quite a kiss but making it difficult to speak, his thumb connected to the tender skin, his palm a caress on his jawline. “Tell me what you want.”

  Teo’s chest heaved once. He was the beta. He didn’t fuck around. But somehow Iain’s hand slid down Teo’s chest and into his sweats. It wrapped around his dick, and he jerked a second time.

  It had been too long. And Iain was too goddamn appealing. His moral weakness should have appalled Teo, except his wolf insisted this felt right, and Teo generally listened to his wolf, who had never led him astray, even at the worst of times.

  Iain kept his mouth on Teo, this not-quite-kiss. “Tell me.”

  Tell him what? Teo had lost track of the conversation.

  And it was too late. This was a type of intimacy anyway. Iain
was not his patient, not yet at least, and there weren’t actual fucking rules about betas and sex. Those were all in Teo’s head. The rules to make life right and avoid past mistakes.

  Teo’s head emptied out, what with Iain stroking him, making his body thrum with pleasure, a thumb gliding over the slit before the stroking resumed.

  “Christ.” His voice sounded hoarse, and Iain grinned.

  “Allow me.” Iain slid down Teo’s body, entirely pleasurable, and brought Teo’s sweats and boxers with him. Then, hands on Teo’s hips, Iain licked the glans, setting off a series of jolts through Teo’s body.

  Iain’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock, and Teo groaned. There was expertise here he could appreciate. Iain moved his tongue down the underside of Teo’s dick, approaching his balls.

  Teo slammed his hands on the couch. “Jesus.”

  Both balls were pulled gently into Iain’s mouth, even while he kept his grip on Teo’s hips, a massaging movement with his palms. As Iain took Teo in his mouth again, Teo brought his hands to Iain’s shoulders, let the feel of them, the tendons, the bones beneath skin, become familiar terrain, a kind of knowledge of touch, even as Iain rose and fell, establishing a rhythm.

  Always have an ace up your sleeve.

  Coyote’s Creed

  © 2011 Vaughn R. Demont

  Broken Mirrors, Book 1

  If con games were taught in high school, Spencer Crain would be on the honor roll. As it is, he’ll be riding the edge of failure to graduation next month. Then Spence gets the news that his long-gone father is not only dead, but was a Coyote, one of three clans of tricksters in the City.

  With a near-catatonic mother on his hands, Spence couldn’t care less about the Coyotes’ ongoing feud with the Phouka and the Kitsune—until it lands on his doorstep. Suddenly he’s thrown headfirst into a dangerous world he knows next-to-nothing about. His only guide is Rourke, dashing King of the Phouka, plus a growing pack of half-siblings, a god, and Fate herself.