Saturday, June 8, 2013

My Sexy Saturday - June 8, 2013

An M/M Erotic Romance

Life dealt Mack Penchant a raw deal. He's hidden his sexuality, the secret he's carried since he was a teen, through the Marine Corps, and now as an undercover cop. The only relationships he believes possible for himself is the furry kind, with his dog Kiki. One young cop, though, drives him to a frenzy, and he fights his passions and needs every step of the way.

Woody Kane’s gaydar spots Mack the moment they meet. And even though Mack rejects him, Woody lusts after the perfect masculine body and wants him in his bed. Woody believes in commitment. Mack makes it clear he does not. Can Woody prove to Mack that he's worthy of love? After all, he adopted a rescue dog. Isn't that a start?

What peril will it take for Mack to accept Woody's love and join him in a committed relationship?


Back in the squad room, Mack watched the kid talk with the others. Heat crawling through his belly and balls, inching down the insides of his thighs, he knew if he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself diving right into deep shit. The kid looked innocent as a baby, but Mack’s reaction to Woody Kane was hot as fire. Innocence and sex. He tried to ignore the twist in his gut, needed to ignore the pretty boy’s presence. Lusting after the kid and letting it show would destroy the life he’d built for himself.

At the end of shift, the team converged on a cop bar a block from the station, open early, very early in the morning, to let off some adrenaline before going home. The bar was much less dingy than the squad room and a lot warmer. The owner, a former cop, knew what the guys needed after a shift—a secure place to wind down after an op, unwatered drinks, and some comfort snacks. A wooden bar took up the long side of the narrow space. Sparkling mirrors behind it reflected glasses and bottles of booze. Neon signs advertised popular beers. A jukebox filled the back corner playing songs from the fifties to the present. Wooden booths marched down the side opposite the bar, tables down the center. Two factory workers just off their own third shift hunkered together at the bar. Otherwise, the cops had the place to themselves.

The team took over a booth and pulled a table over to make room for everyone. Mack glanced at the familiar faces of Arne, Rich, and Sam. They slumped in their seats, elbows leaning on the table. Sam Cooley rubbed at his big face and ended up fingering the stud in his ear.

The kid straddled a chair, bracing muscled, hairy forearms on the back. Mack caught himself staring but took a moment longer than was wise to look away. Jean-clad thighs jutted out on either side of the seat. His jaw clenched hard in arousal at the stock-masculine pose. How would all that sinew and muscle feel clamped around his waist? He had to suck in a breath, praying none of the guys could read his mind. Gulping his beer, he shifted his gaze and focused on the bottle’s label as if it imparted the most important information in the world.

His deeply-rooted sexual desires had always been at odds with his work life. The Marines and cops were not always known as the most tolerant of professions, but he’d loved the power and pride of the military. It had led him to police work, to the protection of the most vulnerable in society. This meant he’d had to hide a big part of his life, especially at work. If another cop was gay, he didn’t want to know about it. His privacy was important.

These days he did his prowling out of town where no one knew him. He was king of one-night stands, not even one night, just an hour. That was enough time to fuck a sweet, tight ass. No kissing and nothing else involving intimacy. Shooting his wad into another guy, a tight chute contracting around his cock, and releasing his frustration was his only goal.

Was Woody’s cock thick, too? His hardening penis throbbed inconveniently, eyelids drooping to half-mast. Damn. Mack’s gaze dipped to the other man’s feet. He suppressed a laugh at the unreliable connection between foot and cock size. But damn, the kid has big feet. He fought the fantasy of clamping his lips around the pretty boy’s dick and sucking every ounce of cum out of him.

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