Screen Shots: Slinky
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by Willa Okati
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Dark Fantasy
Description: Ross, the All-American "boy next door," is a long-established star of twentysomethingtwinks.com. He's settled into his comfort zone. Maybe too much so. He needs shaking up and waking up. Maddox thinks he's the perfect man for the job. Unfortunately for him, Ross doesn't. Ross can't see anything happening between himself and a crazy punk, but he's wrong. Ross and Maddox have the kind of on-screen and off-screen chemistry no one can deny. It doesn't hurt that Maddox is amazingly flexible and can do things in bed that'd blow a monk's mind. When vanilla meets Rocky Road, it's a taste sensation and exactly what Ross discovers he's been craving. But can he find it in himself to take what he and Maddox have to the next level?
eBook Publisher: Changeling Press LLC, 2009 2009
eBookwise Release Date: November 2009
38 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [96 KB]
Reading time: 56-79 min.
"Hey! You're Ross. Thought I'd find you here. Fantastic."
Ross plucked one iPod ear bud out and cocked his head, scoping out a man-shaped blur of color that'd skidded in from one side. "Who wants to know?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out." Whoever this guy was, and he wasn't anyone Ross had seen before at Twentysomethingtwinks.com--this guy was someone you couldn't forget--and he wasted no time making himself at home in the break room. He bypassed the coffee pot for the espresso machine no one except Ross knew how to work.
"Sweet. They don't spare the expense around here, huh?" The guy cracked his knuckles. "C'mon, baby. Gonna be a good girl for me?"
Ross backed away two steps. This machine had a tendency to explode and spit lukewarm espresso on anyone--besides him--who poked too hard at the wrong thing. "Careful."
"Bah. Technology likes me. Purr for me, sweetheart, purr."
"Good luck," Ross said, calmly confident that the espresso machine would blow up in the guy's face. Good thing the machine didn't have magnetized parts. Mr. Whoever had enough metal in his laddered earrings, nose stud and chin stud for a nasty accident to happen if he got too close to anything electric. Solid black tribal tattoos swirled down his arms, starkly vivid against the freckled fairness of his complexion. Eye-wateringly neon green hair that looked like someone had wielded a weed-whacker while blindfolded to style only added to the overall impression--somewhere between dangerous and certifiable. "And yeah, I'm Ross. Who are you?"
"An excellent question. I am a hundred different things, all rolled into one. I'm a bitch, I'm a lover--aha, not bad, made you laugh." He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, flipping switches, coaxing the machine to life. With a gurgling rush and a crunching grind, the espresso machine came alive, the smell of rich roast coffee emanating in lush waves. "Hotcha. Knew I could make you talk, you sweet thing. Isn't that right?"
Ross glared at the machine. Fucking traitor. Annoyed, he asked the stranger, "Do you work here?"
"As of this morning. Welcome your new work buddy. Six foot one of nasty fun."
Yeah. That, Ross could believe. Katherine, the CEO of Steel Mill Productions, hired all kinds. Admittedly, none of them had been like... him. Everything else, from the tall to the short, the square, long, blond, brunet. Anything went as long as they were young and hung, STD-free, and not psychotic.
Katherine might have forgotten to check that last part of this guy's references. "I need a name. Otherwise I'm gonna have to call you Tattoo."
"And no one wants that. Da plane, boss, am I right?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Geez. Some respect for the classics, huh? Hey, what are you listening to?" He wiped the dangling ear bud on his shirt and popped it in. "Whoa. Alice in Chains?"
Ross tweaked the ear bud away from tall, green-haired and bizarre. "So?"
"So I'd figured you for a Travis Tritt or maybe, on an adventurous day, an N'Sync kinda guy."
"Low blow. What do you listen to, Nine Inch Nails backwards?"
"Maddox." The guy was busy filling a Styrofoam cup with at least four shots of straight, thick-as-tar espresso. Ross watched, dubious. Did anyone want this guy hyped up on that much caffeine?
"Say that again. Bono Vox? As in U2?"
"Hell, no. My musical tastes run to whale songs, thunderstorms, pan pipes, that kind of thing."
"How dumb do you think I am?"
"Not half as dumb as you are pretty." The man's throat worked smoothly as he gulped the espresso down, no time lost in waiting for it to cool. Jeez. He had to have a throat made of leather. "Maddox. That's me." He held out his fist. "Give me some love."
Ross wound the ear bud cords around his iPod and slipped it in his pocket. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"Aww, now that's hardly nice, is it? Here. You want the rest of this? No? Your loss." Maddox--what kind of name was that, anyway?--tossed back the last drops and made a deeply satisfied Ahhhhh sound that Ross usually associated with someone on the job getting their sweet spot pounded.
Ross cleared his throat, embarrassed by the stirring in his shorts. Sounds were his weakness. A throaty moan, the grunts a guy made when he was close enough to O to taste it, a playful growl, any one of them did the trick. If Maddox could give Ross half a stalk with a contented purr, Ross figured there was no shame in fearing him. "There something I can do for you, Maddox?" he asked, gruff to cover the rising blush that'd stain his cheeks.
Maddox didn't miss a bit of that. He propped his ass on the edge of the coffee table, cocky as a fox who liked the looks of this particular henhouse, and ran his tongue along his upper lip. "You so can. Matter of fact, we're gettin' busy this morning. You cool with that?"
"Wait, what?" Ross evaded Maddox's casual reach for him. "Bullshit we are. I'm here to work on some props."
"Oh, damn. Don't tell me you don't--" Maddox put on a show with pumping hips and waggling tongue. "That'd break my heart." He thumped his chest. "I might never recover. Besides, I've seen you in action on the site--nice moves, even if you're so vanilla they probably use you to make sugar cookies--so that'd make you a liar and I'd have to spank you."
Ross's cock stiffened. Maddox noticed. Of course he did. "Kinky. Nice. C'mon. We're wasting daylight." He braceleted Ross's wrist and pulled.
"Uh-uh." Ross resisted. "If I were doing a scene this morning, Katherine would have asked, and I'd have signed a contract." Maddox might have been stronger than he looked, but so was Ross. "If Katherine hired you, you know better."
"You doubt me. I'm wounded. Truly I am. These cuts may never heal. I didn't say we were shooting a vid this morning. Well. There'll be shooting involved, just not on film."
"I said we were getting busy this morning. Off the clock. You assumed the rest. Tsk, tsk. Yet I can't help noticing you didn't say no."
"Then no." Ross stared at him. "Does that kind of crap work in the real world?"