Chances Are

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by Lee Brazil

Sometimes the only way for justice to prevail is to get a little Wicked...

  People who call him know the deal. He'll solve their problems, but he'll do it his way. That's the only way Wick Templeton plays the game. His years on the force and connections to all types of specialists put him in a league of his own. That's how he intends to keep it.

  An ex-boyfriend in need puts Wick on a path that crosses that of Ned Harris, a stranger who proves to be a worthy adversary.

  Wick's simple agenda gets a little more complicated. Item one: Clear his ex's name. Item two: unmask the enigma that is Ned Harris.

  It's a good agenda. Too bad Wick can't seem to stick to it.

  Excerpt:

  Wick whistled while he worked, clicking on different files in Neer's computer and copy/saving them onto the brand new flash drive he had brought with him. Most of the files would end up being worthless, but he wouldn't chance missing the right one because he didn't want to transfer them all over.

  "Would you mind not whistling that shit?"

  Wick didn't even bother looking up, he could tell from his periphery vision that the big brute still sat proper in the chair. "Oh sorry, was that bothering you?" He licked his lips and when he blew between them the theme song for It's a Small World took flight.

  "Just kill me now."

  "I don't take requests. Now less talking please, I'm concentrating." He continued whistling his little ditty while he finished the last of the transfers.

  He reached into his pocket for his second flash drive when he noticed a link on the M drive that he could've sworn wasn't there before. He clicked on it...nothing. He moved the mouse over it again and double clicked...still nothing.

  "Say, Cliffy dah-ling. What's so special about the M drive?"

  "Go to hell, fuckwad."

  "Okay, that's a tad unwarranted." But it wasn't the words that got Wick's interest piqued. No, he already guessed Neer wasn't a poet. The way his back stiffened when asked about the M drive, now that interested Wick.

  He messed around trying to find a back door for this elusive drive, but no go. Finally he just put his pointer over it and clicked repeatedly out of frustration.

  It opened up to a password protected file.

  "Well fuck me, that really does work?" He chuckled as he searched the obvious places on the desk just in case Neer's denseness equaled Brad's. Unfortunately, Neer didn't leave a handy dandy sticky note with passwords stuck anywhere. Well, this was as far as he could go without asking for help. He curled his lip up to the right, he hated asking for help.

  "Hey Cliffy, wanna play a game?"

  He twirled the chair so he faced the back of Neer's head and propped his feet on the desk.

  "Go to hell, fuc—"

  Wick raised his voice over Neer's, "There are five main swear words that are frequently used in the English language to hurt people's feelings. When used with lesser cuss words you can procure hundreds of derogatory names. When combined to make compound words your options go into the thousands, even higher if you aren't particularly worried about the grammar Nazis. If you insist on insulting me I'm going to have to ask that you change it up each time. It keeps our romance alive, keeps the spark in our relationship.

  "So now, about our game. I've got a silencer in my bag here. I'm about to equip it on my gun right here in my hand." He held up the gun, when Neer attempted to look he stopped him. "What are you doing? No turning around. I really do have a silencer. You'll have to have a little faith in your dance partner on this one. Now, I'm going to ask you a few simple questions. If you answer them correctly all is well. If you don't; I shoot. Let's say, oh I don't know...I'll begin about a foot away from you, but each time I don't get the answer I want my aim will target a little closer...and yada yada yada. Get the gist of it?"

  February

  Triple Digits

  by

  Laura Harner

  Master Archer found his forever with fellow Dom, Zachary, but when their discreet recovery business interferes with their personal time, Archer buys exactly what his lover needs—submissive Jeremiah. Because anything two can do, three can do better.

  Excerpt

  “Come here, Zachary,” he said. His voice was a low growl, nothing like the cultured tones he’d used with our guest. My dick responded, despite the vigorous workout from earlier this morning.

  I moved to stand between his spread knees, prepared to kneel if that’s what he wanted, but he seemed content to wrap his arms around my waist and rest his cheek against my stomach. He rubbed his hand over my heated ass, his firm stroke raising my level of awareness. “Do you still feel me, here?” 

  His words shivered through me.

  “I think I might still be feeling you through next Tuesday, but I could take more.”

  Archer threw his head back and laughed. “Such an eager boy. Are you sure you’re a switch?” His tone was teasing, but his hard hand squeezed my ass, and I moaned in pleasure. He laughed again and the sound eased the slight concern I’d felt at his earlier shift in attitude.

  “We have a lot to do in a short amount of time.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “I do.” Archer reached for his e-tablet and I opened a new document on the laptop. Archer was a genius, and there was no telling how fast his ideas would pour out once he got going.

  “Check the calendar,“ Archer said, his own fingers turning electronic pages.

  “What am I looking for?”

  “Hold on…” He shook his head. “Opera…no…damn, there’s a premiere…what about…” he looked up, his eyes shining. “Check Thursday, three weeks from tonight.”

  I checked. “There’s nothing on your schedule, shall I save it?”

  “Yes. We’re throwing a party. Scour our old client list. I particularly want Peter and Cartier to attend. Ah, and don’t forget to add Wick. What do you think, Zachary? Will we draw Franklin in?”

  I laughed—it was a beautiful plan. “Master Archer is coming out of retirement for one evening to host a private reprise of Wilde Sides in his beautiful home, and bringing in three other Masters he personally trained? How could a pain slut like Franklin resist?”

  Lee Brazil Author Bio

  I’m an avid reader and former teacher of grammar and composition who believes that falling in love is the grandest adventure anyone can have. In a nutshell, that’s every story I have to tell. Readers can find out more about me and my writing by visiting me at my blog, Lee's Musings or finding me on Facebook. Feel free to drop me a line at [email protected]

  Contact Links

  Lee on FB https://www.facebook.com/lee.brazil

  Lee on Twitter @leebrazil

  Lee Blog https://leebrazilauthor.blogspot.com/

  Google + https://plus.google.com/109834603727709604675/posts

  Pinterest https://pinterest.com/leebrazil/

  You Tube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKmjXLWlO4c2_5ZZQigbeZg?

  Other Books by Lee Brazil

  Available as ebooks from Breathless Press:

  The Accident

  Willow

  Saint's Curse

  It's Simple, Simon

  Loving Eden

  The Librarian

  Loving Jacob

  Mark’s Opening Gambit

  Trapping Drake

  The Man Trap

  Truth Deeper Than Logic

  "The Park At Sunrise" in Word Play: Story Orgy, Vol 1

  TRUTH OR DARE

  Keeping House

  Telling the Truth

  Giving Up

  Taking the Dare

  Risking it All

  Donovan's Deal

  As e-books With Story Orgy

  "The Old Soda Shop" in And The Prompt Is... Volume One

  "The Interview" in And The Prompt Is... Holiday Edition

  As an e-book From Silver Publishing

  Less Than All

  In Paper Back

  Encounter

  A Beautiful Silence

  Loving Jacob


  Available as Free Stories:

  Because You're You

  "Be A Bad Boy" in Don't Read in the Closet: Volume One

  Nothing to Forgive

 


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