by Talon p. s.
“You’ll give me another chance to make things right?”
“Things were already right from the start; I am giving you a chance to stop running.”
Maxum let out a heavy sigh of relief, “No running. I want this.” Maxum fell silent a moment gathering some resolve for himself. Maxum never considered himself as a real risk taker. Life to him came with two options. For him there were challenging hurdles, numbers he knew how to calculate far in advance of what direction they would take that meant reaping the rewards, and then there was foolishly throwing money away. He liked spending his money on enjoyable things, not tossing it out without purpose or usefulness. Darko, had until now, seemed like a huge risk that came with instant rewards, but no certainty of the long run. “I’ll be honest no one has ever scared me like you do, but damned if I can make myself let go of you. I want you. Hell, you’re already brandished into my veins. I’m not letting go so you might as well come to terms with it.”
“Only, I have something to ask of you.”
“Anything.”
“No, not anything, just this one thing.”
“What is it?”
“That you let me show you how much I want to be with you. That I can be the man you will be with for years to come.”
“So how do we start?”
Darko’s gaze flickered to the large television screen and the crowd it showed in the city below. Cheering and party favors abound as the moment approached. “Well it’s almost midnight. Maybe stepping into the new year with an old tradition is a good start.”
“You want me to make a New Year’s resolution?”
“Kinda. How much money did you donate tonight?”
Maxum sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a solemn sigh that ended in a warm smile. “A hundred and fifty grand.”
Darko cocked a brow up at the six-digit sum. “Well that might get you a kiss.” Despite the dim lighting of the room, the copper brilliance Darko had seen in Maxum’s eyes the first time they met sparked back to life and he realized he had missed the flickering color.
“A kiss? That’s all I get?” Maxum was suddenly put on a pouty bewildered look, “Not even a door prize?”
Darko shrugged, trying not to laugh at the playful look at his knight. “What were you expecting for just a hundred and fifty grand?” Darko mirrored the surprised expression along with a wicked grin.
“Well, I don’t know. I was kinda hoping I got to keep the man giving the kiss.” He took a step in, bringing them almost nose to nose.
Darko took on a more cocky arrogant air. “I think you’re over calculating the value of your money here.” He leaned in nudging his nose against Maxum’s in a taunting glance. His smoldering blue eyes dropping down to consider Maxum’s lips in a visual caress he could feel. “Perhaps we could consider it a down payment and work out some kind of arrangement.” He drew one of Maxum’s hands toward him, depositing it on his hip, then took Maxum’s hip in his own. “With your budget, I’m sure we could work it out in installments. Maybe even a parking space.” He brought an arm over Maxum’s shoulder, delivering more of that smoldering aura he was well aware were among his seduction skills. The countdown on the television at Times Square began just as the starting-lights for Darko’s approach had.
Ten— nine—
“I might have to put in a little overtime, but I think I can manage that.” Maxum grinned at him.
Seven— Six— Five—
Maxum’s smile paused and he let out a deeply contented sigh. “I want to make a New Year’s resolution here. I want to promise that I can be a forever man and I am willing to devote the rest of my life to prove it to you.”
Three— two—
And just as the countdown reached its climax with the ball dropping at Times Square being shown on the television screen, Darko pulled Maxum in. Kissing this man, he’d spotted on the side of the road one early winter morning and knew then, they were meant for each other—a rough attraction—like rocket fuel and fast cars.
THE END
ABOUT THE TWINS
Talon and Princess like any set of twins, was far closer than just your average brother and sister and went through life sharing and liking many of the same things, music, writing, rocks and even the desire for men.
Now sharing a home in Tarpon Springs, Florida, where they raise Prin’s daughter fondly named the Bug. They found themselves returning to writing, in the form of screen-writes with hopes of one day seeing one of their scripts put to actual film. They never did.
Both worked in the concert Industry: Prin did everything from being a stagehand to Production manager, while Talon remained a tour rigger and steel climber. Yet writing would call them back time and time again.
This time, the call came in the form of a dream Prin had, when she was down with pneumonia. After three days stuck in bed, when she found she could finally muster the strength to get up, she spent the next two days glued to her computer and typed out over a hundred pages, but there was something missing and the both she and Talon agreed it needed to push the envelope of romance and give its audience some explicit intimacy. Thus delivery them into the world of writing Erotic Romance. They never looked back, and since that time of August of 2010, together they started thirty-six books, from Ancient Adventures to the Paranormal Romance, from Dark Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy to Happy-ever-after Gay Romance; From BDSM to Sci-fi and everything in between. All containing some hot steamy sex scenes.
While they both had a hand in each, the books, like kids with trading cards {or in their case trading rocks} were divided up with the sense of some books belonging as their own while others were a shared project. In July of 2012, Talon passed away due to an injury he’d sustained in 2010 that had been complicated by a hereditary illness he and Prin also shared. Now the remaining 32 books unpublished have been left with Prin along with a promise to complete them.
In the countdown, this is book 31
“I’m about to make you wet”
~ Talon ps
“Have you ever dreamed something so wondrous and frightening, you had wake yourself, so you could write it down?”
~ Princess so
BONUS READ I
TAKING OVER TROFIM
Book 4: Dominion of Brothers series
CHAPTER I
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Trofim finished his shower, and went to his locker with nothing more than the towel tied at his hips. He needed to get out of there. Instead he found himself dropping down to the bench overwhelmed with old feelings. That face up on the bridge looking down just as his team rowed underneath— he knew that face, remembered it all too well. It still hurt to see him. After all this time. It would be just like Shay Wilks to come sneaking around, but Trofim’s heart couldn’t take it. That Shay would show his face at their first practice outside the tank hall would seem more than coincidence.
“Are you joining us for dinner?” He heard the gentle question reach him through everything else that bombarded his mind. Trofim looked over finding his brother’s concerned face. He never could hide anything from Pyotr and what he felt now had started back in the fall at the championship race.
Shay had been there too. He was in the stroke seat on the New Rochelle Master’s Rowing Team. Trofim was only grateful he hadn’t seen him on the river during the race or he would have likely created a similar wreckage of oars for his teammates as Shay had for his. So he was told. No doubt Shay’s father, former Senator Benjamin Wilks, was out there and saw what caused his son’s failure. The New Rochelle Team would have taken third place in the Masters if it hadn’t been for that calamity. A wrecking ball he was grateful to have been oblivious of, except when Shay came running up to congratulate him after receiving the championship trophy, he nearly crash-landed off the platform trying to get away. Seeing Shay again brought on a storm of old emotions both good and painful. The worst of them, was knowing Shay's father would see them and he couldn’t allow that.
“Trofim?” Pyotr’s fathe
rly tone broke through the clouds in his head.
“Sorry.” Trofim averted his eyes. Pyotr had just gone through the death of his lover’s sister, Kimmi; and was still nurturing Cliff and himself through the grieving. The last thing he wanted to do was dump his five-year-old broken heart melodrama on the man. “Nah, I’m good. I think I’m just gonna go home.”
“When you’re ready then.” Pyotr gave him a long reassuring look, like a pillar only a brother could provide before he vanished behind the wall to head out. It was his brother’s way of saying he would be there for him whenever he was ready to talk. Even with a new love of his own, Pyotr would never stop being Pyotr. Nothing was too important to keep him from family. Always the big brother that looked after his siblings as if they had been his own all along and in a sense, they were. After all, Trofim had only been eleven years old when their parents sent them out of Yugoslavia to flee the coming civil war. Pyotr became the only mother and father they had after that.
“I got tired of waiting outside for you.” Someone spoke from behind him.
Trofim spun about, jumping to his feet and backed against the lockers at the familiar voice. His heart sank the millisecond his eyes came upon the handsomely refined face of Shay Wilks. “What are you doing here?” He swallowed hard trying to regain his bearings and hopefully some resistance.
Shay took a step towards him closing the space between them that wasn’t nearly enough and placed one hand flat against the lockers next to his shoulder.
Trofim’s eyes followed the possessive move of Shay’s arm still formatted with the muscles of an athlete and took that as a sign to move away. One step and Shay slapped his other hand up blocking his escape. “Still running I see.” It was more of an accusation than something arrogant. So much of the rich boy attitude from up state was at work in Shay.
“I didn’t run. I left. I got that break into modeling. It required a lot of travel.” Trofim spoke out on his defense. Even if it wasn’t entirely the truth.
“Yes I know, but were you so busy you couldn’t pick up the phone and call your lover just once? I didn’t even get a sayonara from you.” Shay’s eyes drifted down Trofim’s body lapping up the very sight of him. Then back to his eyes. Blue like the night was long. Not a light blue or a sky color, but deep like a cobalt stone, the kind of blue most had to accomplish with contacts, but Shay knew first hand Trofim’s eyes were all natural. The color of his soul, so deep it was staggering.
“Senator Wilks saw to that.” Trofim stifled the rest of the words he wanted to say.
Shay stilled, just inches from his face. He had always known his father had some doing in Trofim’s sudden departure, but no one, not even Trofim’s brothers would speak of it. “I was angry for months after you left and then I saw the first modeling release of you ” Shay laid a soft feathery kiss against Trofim’s jaw, “Saw how beautiful you are, but those first few pictures also showed your pain. I saw in your eyes you were hurting too. I tried to reach out to you, but you never came back— ‘til now.” Shay leaned back, his gaze washing over Trofim’s body as if he had done so with his hands. “So handsome.” He whispered, as if remembering something far more intimate, “I think I’ve managed to collect every photo ad ever printed of you.” His hands dropped from the lockers to Trofim’s arms, feeling the pumped muscles of his biceps. His eyes locked on the muscular curves, “Damn, rowing has been good to your body.” Shay’s hands moved up over the other man’s shoulders then glided down over his chest. Both hands squeezing the well-built pecs firmly then catching one of Trofim’s sensitive nipples between his fingers and pinched him hard.
Before the gasp could barely break past Trofim’s lips, Shay came over them, his tongue plunging into his mouth and lapping at his tongue. Claiming him all over again with a deep hunger that had never been quenched by anyone but him. Trofim was spontaneously drowning in the kiss, feeling the man’s arms tighten around him like a snake coiling around its prey, refusing to allow even the slightest chance for escape. Yet it was the kiss which made him stay. Shay had a mouth that could get you drunk on the euphoria of its caress, as if his kiss were made of honey wine. And he force fed an entire barrel of it into his mouth that very moment. Delivering and eating all at the same time. Moreover, to ensure there was nothing left of his resistance, Shay pressed in, delivering a firm grinding of his hardened arousal against Trofim’s own cock. Pulling his hips to ride against him.
Despite every brain cell sending up immediate alarms to get away, Trofim’s body knew it was in the arms meant to hold him and everything lit up. Awake and wanting. Convincing him to stay.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
BONUS READ II
Domming the Heiress
Book 1.5: Dominion of Brothers series
CHAPTER ONE
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Trenton Leos, the man everyone revered as the Dominus, stood before her, the blindfold of wine colored silk held firmly in both hands and brought it up to her eyes.
“Wait.” Amelia wiped her hands down her thighs, taking another deep breath. She was growing more and more anxious with each passing minute. Trenton paused, allowing her the moment and lowered the blindfold slightly, but kept it close to remind her the moment had come for her to surrender. “It's time Amelia. Unless you want to use your safe word.”
“Yellow. I need to use my yellow.” She lifted her jaw slightly and swallowed nervously.
Trenton shook his head, “There is no yellow here for this. Either you do it or you don’t. So say red or green.”
“What? Why?” Her hand went up to catch the silk cloth, anything she could do to stall this a little longer. Get a better grip on the night’s plans.
“Because you’ve been riding with your foot on the break for four years now. Your body desires submission like no other, yet you continue to top from the bottom, which leaves you unsatisfied. You cannot have it both ways. In order to enjoy the pleasure of ultimate surrender you must surrender completely. You came to me asking for a Master now I’ve found one. One who is willing to take on the challenge of your submission and it is time for you to meet him.” Trenton gave her a gentle smile, one that touched deep inside her with a promise to deliver succulent pleasure and he waited.
She took a deep breath feeling his promise all the way to her core, but it wasn’t enough to relinquish her last thread of control. “Why must you blind submit me?” her lips rolled in to be caught by her teeth a moment. Her attention flickered to the mingling crowd just outside the glass walls of her VIP booth, then back to the Dominus.
“Amelia, I said it would be done this way. This is how you will surrender by my rules not those of the sub’s. To keep you from attempting to micro manage. Your new Master will not tolerate it and he agrees with my decision.”
Just another Friday night at Club Pain, Amelia's eyes scanned the crowd of people outside her booth once more. Some went on without so much as a glance her way, others had definitely taken notice. Her new Dom was out there— somewhere— but no discerning face leaped out at her. She swallowed nervously. Dominus didn’t play around, the moment she went to him asking for a Dom who could handle her, he took over and gave her no reins whatsoever and brought her a master. Now she was about to be truly stripped of her control and it frightened her beyond comprehension, but she could not disregard the moisture that pooled inside her theca, either. Total submission to a master seemed for so long like a desire inescapably unobtainable. Now here it was and the heat flux it created was beyond measure, had her breath caught in her chest and her heart fluttering nervously. Once more she rolled her lips in, biting back the yearn— she was very wet and for the first time she wished the glass around her VIP booth was able to tint digitally as Trenton’s private room did, so no one could see.
“What do you need to say to me Amelia?” Trenton asked, not an ounce lost in his patience or stern guidance.
Amelia took in a deep breath willing herself to relax and let go of the silk scarf, “Green.” A nerv
ous cool-escape poured from her lips like a favorite dark wine.
“Good girl.” And the blindfold came up over her eyes as he spoke to her. “Your new master will join us in a moment.” Domineering yet warm, reassuring her in the darkness, talking her through her new submission. “If at any time you have reached your limits, use your safe words. If you call yellow he will stop and work you past it or switch into something else, depending on what he thinks you need. If you call red, he will stop all together and your weekend will come to an end. However, the blindfold does not come off until he has returned you to me. Understood?”
A new wave of tantalizing fear rippled through her, sending the new lust escalating within her. Her eyes tried to see past the cloth, but she was as blind as a new slave should be. “May I ask why Dominus?”
“Because calling red forfeits any privilege of discovering who your master is.” Fingers tested the tension on the blindfold making sure it wasn’t too snug, “How does that feel? Not too tight?” It would be on for a long time so he made sure it was on comfortably so as not to trigger a headache.
She sucked in a deep breath letting it out with a soft sigh that accented the surrendered word she was ready. “Green.”
“Good girl.” She felt the soft kiss to her now covered forehead then heard him circle her then took a few steps back, no doubt enjoying the display from her body language. “Now stand there and don’t say a word unless you need to use your safe words. Understood?”
“Yes, Dominus.” Her heart strummed in a Latin merengue beat in her chest and her belly began twisting and flip-flopping like a dance floor filled with salsa dancers that took up the beat in her chest. The time was coming. The surrender she had always desired. Such sweet fear. She prayed for a brief moment, perhaps not the ideal prayers one should send up, but she did so anyways, because she truly did hope to make her master happy with her, for what he was already giving her.