Hi! And welcome to the Howl-o-ween blog hop!
I have a new release coming out October 30th, called Taking Charge of Brandon. If you'd like a copy, read the blurb and excerpt below, and leave me a comment! I'll choose a winner at random and you can be one of the first to receive a copy of this newest release!! After you check it out, hop on over to the next stop on the hop--http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/
Good looking Brandon is out for a good time with his friends when he runs afoul of a motorcycle gang and winds up being taken for a wild midnight ride. He soon discovers that the strong, handsome man who has taken charge of him is exciting, controlling and determined to dominate him and give him boundaries. Brandon wants it, he needs it and he’s desperate for Danny to be the Dom who can rein him in and make him more than just a pretty face. The question is can Brandon follow his rules or will his rebellion cost him everything?
Right on the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley, Danny pulled his cycle to a stop and switched it off.
“Get off, Pretty,” he said over his shoulder. Brandon scrambled to dismount.
Brandon didn’t know what was going to happen next, but he found Danny staring at him broodingly. He got off his bike, turning his back on Brandon, and walked the few steps over to the lookout, gazing down for few minutes. When Brandon nervously walked up to about five feet behind him, he turned, and Brandon wondered if anyone would find his body after Danny dumped it over the side of the cliff.
Deciding he might have a chance with an abject apology, Brandon spoke quietly, hating the whiney sound of his voice. “I…uh…I’m sorry for hurting your friend. It was all my friends’ idea, really, and I just panicked. I didn’t mean to hurt him. We were just bored and looking for something to do. Then when he came at me, I got scared. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Your friends’ idea, huh? Then how come you had the tire iron?”
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, boy. What’s your name?”
“M-my name is Brandon.”
He looked him slowly up and down. “How old are you? About sixteen?”
Brandon flushed. “No. I’m twenty-three.”
“Bullshit,” Brandon said softly. “One more lie and I swear to God…”
“I-I’m sorry! Please! I-I’m twenty years old, and that’s the truth, really.”
Danny advanced on Brandon, walking slowly toward him. Brandon backed away as he stalked him. Everything about Danny made him nervous and uneasy and had since the first moment he’d seen him. He was frightened by him and the determined way he moved. He looked big and dangerous and sexy as hell. Brandon couldn’t catch his breath. Danny kept coming until a tree halted Brandon’s retreat. He clenched his fists, scared and shocked—and turned on. He leaned against the tree, trying to remember how to breathe.
Brandon found he couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried. Danny glided up to him, all panther-like grace and easy confidence, and snatched up Brandon’s wrist again in his powerful hand, pulling him close. He didn’t say anything. Not that Brandon could have heard him anyway over the blood pounding in his ears. Danny waited for any sign Brandon didn’t want what he was going to do, or that Brandon wasn’t as ready for it as he was.
Brandon couldn’t speak, but he found the presence of mind to hesitantly grind his crotch into Danny’s to let him know, hell yeah, he wanted what he thought Danny was promising—or maybe threatening. He couldn’t imagine where he’d found the courage, but he’d never been so excited by anyone in his life.
Danny’s mouth came down on his, roughly, fiercely. He pulled Brandon tightly up against him. After the first shocked moment, Brandon found he seriously couldn’t breathe. The intensity was too great. Danny's chest was like stone, and he wrapped his arms around Brandon, trapping him until Brandon was barely able to move against the strong embrace. Meanwhile, the assault on his mouth continued. Danny bent Brandon’s head back and thrust his tongue between his lips, teasing and playing with Brandon’s tongue, making him gasp for breath and go weak in his knees.
Brandon stopped struggling and went limp. Danny bit him hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood. Brandon gasped and pulled back, but Danny followed, licking at his lip and making Brandon almost cream his pants. He wanted to protest, but found he couldn’t move, couldn’t even cry out. With a helpless whimper, he kissed Danny back, breathing rapidly, loving the hard feel of his muscles and being overpowered and swept away. Brandon definitely wasn’t in charge of anything, totally controlled, yet at the same time he wasn’t afraid. He almost felt as if he were standing outside himself, looking on.
Danny’s hands caressed Brandon’s cock, rubbing it hard through his pants, and smiled down into his eyes. He unsnapped Brandon’s jeans and put his hand inside, wrapping his warm hand around Brandon’s cock. At the first touch, Brandon thought he might swoon in his arms. His eyes rolled back in his head and he whispered softly, “Oh yes, yes…”
Moving his hand down, still holding Brandon’s gaze, Danny squeezed Brandon’s balls with an iron grip, making Brandon draw in his breath with a hiss. Danny kept smiling as he let go of his balls and pushed him down on his hands and knees, deliberately stepping on his hand.
Brandon cried out at first but then looked up at Danny from under his eyelashes, breathing hard but not even trying to get away.
“Do you like it a little rough, Brandon?”
He ground his foot on Brandon’s hand a little harder. “Cause you look to me like you might be a bit of a pain slut. Are you, Pretty?”