by Bailey Bradford, Ethan Stone, T. A. Chase, Sean Michael, L. M. Somerton, Morticia Knight
Jensen kissed Toby, unable to contain his happiness at hearing him say that. After he finished mauling Toby, he pulled back to say, “Yes, I’ll call you. It’s going to be weird having someone waiting for me.”
“Would you consider moving back, Jensen? Move in with me here? I care about you. Hell, I might even fall in love with you again, but I don’t want to lose touch with you.”
Shifting until he leaned over Toby, Jensen regarded him. “I love you, Toby, and I’ll climb any mountain you want to prove it to you.”
“Don’t worry about climbing them. Just worry about coming home to me after each adventure. As long as you keep returning, we can work through anything.” Toby encircled his shoulders to bring him back for another kiss.
As their lips touched, Jensen’s heart skipped a beat and peace waved through him. The same joy he felt when he stood on the summit of a mountain filled his soul, letting him know Toby was the right choice as a base while he traveled the world following his passion.
About the Author
There is beauty in every kind of love, so why not live a life without boundaries? Experiencing everything the world offers fascinates T.A. and writing about the things that make each of us unique is how she shares those insights. When not writing, T.A.’s watching movies, reading and living life to the fullest.
Email: [email protected]
T.A. loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by T.A. Chase
Out of Light into Darkness
From Slavery to Freedom
The Vanguard
Two for One
Where the Devil Dances
Stealing Life
The Four Horsemen: Pestilence
The Four Horsemen: War
The Four Horsemen: Famine
The Four Horsemen: Death
The Beasor Chronicles: Gypsies
The Beasor Chronicles: Tramps
Home: No Going Home
Home: Home of His Own
Home: Wishing for a Home
Home: Leaving Home
Home: Home Sweet Home
Every Shattered Dream: Part One
Every Shattered Dream: Part Two
Every Shattered Dream: Part Three
Every Shattered Dream: Part Four
Every Shattered Dream: Part Five
Rags to Riches: Remove the Empty Spaces
Rags to Riches: Close the Distance
Rags to Riches: Following His Footsteps
Rags to Riches: Anywhere Tequila Flows
Unconventional at Best: Ninja Cupcakes
Unconventional in Atlanta: His Last Client
An Unconventional Chicago: No Bravery
SIZE MATTERS
Sean Michael
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation
Facebook: Facebook, Inc.
Safari: Apple Inc.
Prologue
Lucien glanced at his watch and hurried through the rain. There were twenty minutes left in Guy Wilks’ book signing and if he didn’t hurry, he was going to miss it. Lucien had to admit, he was less interested in the actual signature and more interested in having a moment of time with his favorite horror novelist. A chance to connect. It wasn’t the kind of thing he usually indulged in, but there was something about Wilks’ prose that drew him. There was a hint of eroticism, a breath of the things that really scared him.
He arrived at the bookstore with ten minutes to spare and got into line. There were only a half-dozen people still waiting ahead of him, which was cool. He could see Wilks, the man younger than he’d imagined, fresh faced, lovely. His cock twitched and he ignored it. Not here, not now. It would be bad form to freak out the talent.
There was one guy in front of Lucien when there was an announcement over the PA that the bookstore was closed to new customers. And nobody behind him, excellent. Looked like he’d timed this even better than he’d thought.
“One left, Guy,” murmured the lady next to Wilks.
“Thank you, Allison.”
Lucien got a grin, or the space above his shoulder did. Oh wow. Guy Wilks was blind.
Lucien recovered from his surprise quickly. “Hey, man. I love your books. Seriously.”
“Thank you. I love to hear that. Who do I sign to?”
“Lucien.” He put his book in Guy’s hand, fascinated—how was Guy going to sign the book when he couldn’t see?
“Great name. En or an?” Guy opened the cover, found the title page, and put his right hand on the top and the edge.
“En. And thank you.” Lucien glanced behind him again. “Looks like I’m your last fan.”
“I appreciate that you waited.”
Guy carefully printed out ‘thank you’, ‘Lucien’ and ‘Guy’.
Some strange impulse prompted Lucien to add, “I should probably let you know that I only showed up ten minutes or so ago. In the spirit of full disclosure.”
“Honest. I like it.” The book was closed and pushed over.
“Thanks. It is the best policy, isn’t it?” Oh, God, that was super lame. Lucien didn’t know what was wrong with him. Could he salvage this? “I bet you could use a coffee.”
“You know it.”
The lady Guy had called Allison was packing things up. “We can stop at Starbucks on the way home, boss, but I have to get home to the kids.”
Lucien cleared his throat. “If I’m not being too forward, I’d be happy to take you to the coffee shop across the road.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t… There’s no way for me to get home from here without help. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“I could drive you home, but I get why you wouldn’t want to. You don’t know me from Adam. Maybe we could have coffee some other time?” Lucien wasn’t entirely sure why he was pushing this, but there was something about Wilks.
“Maybe. Maybe somewhere I’m comfortable.”
“Can I give you my card?” Lucien suggested.
“Absolutely. Allison?”
Lucien handed his card over to Guy’s assistant. “It really was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thanks, man. Have a great evening.” Guy grabbed the harness of a service dog, a beautiful golden retriever, that Lucien hadn’t even noticed until now.
“Yeah, you too.” He watched Guy walk away, admiring the sweet ass.
Imagine that. Guy Wilks was an amazing writer, blind and a hottie. How fucking fascinating was that?
Lucien hoped Guy called him. He honestly did.
Chapter One
Trey took his guide dog Happy out, heading to the coffee shop at the corner. It was quiet there, especially late at night, and he knew Sarah and Anthony, the owners, would make sure he was taken care of. It was the one place he felt comfortable going on his own, thanks to them.
“Hey, Trey!” Sarah called out as he hit the door. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Good. Caramel latte, love?”
“You got it. We’ve got a piece of caramel crunch pie left, too.”
“Oh, rock on. Thanks.”
He sat, put one of his earbuds in, and checked his emails. There was one from the guy with the pretty voice, thanking him for signing. He answered with—
You’re welcome, man. Good to meet you.
It had been his first book signing, and it had gone okay. The guy with the pretty voice had been good-looking if Allison’s fluttering about him afterward was anything to go by. She’d described him as tall, dark and perfect. His voice had been…liquid velvet was pretty fucking cheesy. Still, it was true.
Velvety soft and rich and…whoa. Okay. Okay. No springing wood. The guy had asked him out for coffee in that voice…
His email binged.
Nice to meet you too. I meant it, about the coffee.
I managed to get myself a cup.
Lucien’s reply didn’t take long to arrive.
You’re going to make me come right out and say it, aren’t you? I’m more interested in you than in coffee.
I don’t know you from Job.
Trey wanted to, though. The idea of it both thrilled and scared him. More thrilled, if he were being honest.
Thus the coffee.
He chuckled at that.
I guess so. I have to be careful, you know?
I get that, I do. But if we could do coffee at the place of your choice. What can I do in a public place?
Yeah. I have a good place here. Safe. Folks know me.
There you go. Invite me over.
Earthscape Java on Cornell.
Oh, God. Oh, God, what had he done?
I’ll be there in twenty.
Twenty. That gave Trey time to go home, to bail. He really didn’t want to. He should, though, right?
“Everything okay?” That was Anthony, hand on his shoulder, reminding him he was in a safe place.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m meeting someone.”
“Oh, man. Well, I’ll walk you home whenever you’re ready.”
Oh, thank God. “You rock.”
“Of course I do. And I have an all-natural oatmeal biscuit for Happy, that okay?”
“Oh, thank you.” They were so good to him here.
“No problem. You need a refill on the Joe?”
Trey touched the outside of the cup, still half full. “Not yet.”
“Let me know when you do. And you need anything, just shout out.” Anthony wasn’t going to let anything happen to him.
“Thanks, man. You are amazing.”
It was tough, being on his own, but he managed. He really did. He had the little house he’d inherited, he had friends and a personal assistant and Happy. He called his parents at Christmas, but honestly, they weren’t a big part of his life. Their views on his life choices were clear enough. He could either come home, stop being queer, stop writing evil demonic books, and do penance for daring to be born blind or he could sink or swim. He chose swimming, damn it.
The bell over the door sounded and footsteps headed his way. Trey kept still, listening to his Facebook, waiting for something to let him know it was Lucien with an ‘en’.
“Guy?”
Oh damn, Lucien’s voice was even sexier than he remembered.
“Hey. Have a seat.” Trey closed his laptop and pulled out his earbud.
“Thank you.” Lucien shook with him. The man’s hand was large and warm, skin soft.
“Would you like something to drink?” Trey asked. “Anthony is one hell of a barista.”
“Sure. Can I get you something while I’m at the counter?”
“I think I’m still good. Anthony has a dog biscuit for Happy, though.”
“Your dog’s name is Happy? That is awesome.”
“It is. She’s a good girl.” He reached down, touched her ruff gently.
“She’s beautiful. I’ll be right back.”
He listened as Lucien ordered and paid and a moment later came back to sit with him again. His hand was taken, the oatmeal cookie given to him. “Here’s Happy’s cookie.”
“Thank you. Happy. Happy Girl, Anthony found you a cookie.” He fed it to her then looked back toward the counter. “Thanks, man!”
“No problem, Trey my man.”
“Trey? You mean your name isn’t really Guy Wilks?”
Trey could hear the teasing tone in Lucien’s voice and that eased his nerves more than anything else so far.
“Nope. I know, impossible to believe.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Trey. It suits you better than Guy anyway.”
“At least they’re both single syllables, huh? Thanks for coming out to my side of town.”
“I wanted to see you and it was no trouble, honestly.”
Trey didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything, he sipped his coffee and grinned. Okay. This was going okay.
“I have to admit, when I came to the signing, I wasn’t expecting someone…”
“Blind?”
Lucien chuckled. “That too. I was going to say sexy.”
“Oh, you’re funny. Thank you, though.”
“Oh, I wasn’t joking.”
There was no way. None. Trey appreciated the compliment anyway.
“Do you mind if I touch you?” Lucien asked.
“I don’t guess so.” Trey didn’t think anyone had ever asked.
Lucien’s hand slid along his cheek. “Silky and smooth, like it looks.”
Trey’s cock jerked, filling almost painfully.
“Your cheek makes me want to know if your other cheeks are as lovely.”
What? Wait. Surely he’d misunderstood. “The other cheek’s the same.”
“I must need to work on my flirting. I imagine I rely too much on my eyes. It makes you a challenge.”
“You’re… Oh, you are something else. You have a blind guy kink?” Because that would suck, just to be some guy’s fetish.
“No, I have a sexy guy kink. I’ve never been with a blind man before. I could let you know if it’s a kink if we get together.” Lucien chuckled, the sound as amazing as the man’s voice was. “I hope I’m not being too pushy—I’m just used to going for what I want and I want you.”
“I don’t know what to say, man. I’m flattered.” And completely unsure about how to deal with this.
“I would love for you to be more than flattered.”
“I don’t… I have to be honest, man. I’ve never dated a man who could see.”
“Why not? And where do you pick up gay men who are blind? Is there a bar for that? I’m only half joking, too.”
“I haven’t met many. And how did you know I was gay? And bars are loud.” Trey never went to any.
“My gaydar is pretty good and you didn’t smack me when I touched you.”
“Oh. That’s probably a sign. We blind gay boys usually just rub.”
“Just rub?” Lucien sounded confused.
“You know, rub in the hope that someone springs wood?”
“Ah.” Lucien chuckled again, the hand on Trey’s cheek dropping along his arm to his thigh. “And are you springing wood?”
“Absolutely not.” God, yes.
“No?” Lucien sounded skeptical, his hand beginning to slide up Trey’s thigh.
“N…nope. Cool as a cucumber.” Oh, no phallic sounding vegetables…
Lucien’s hand continued to inch along his thigh, toward his crotch with its raging hard-on.
“This is a bad idea.” Trey scooted back. He was pretty sure he was trying to convince himself.
“You aren’t interested in me at all?”
“I didn’t say that. You have a voice like pure sex.” He needed to shut up.
“Thank you. So can we get to know each other better, then?”
“Are you a serial killer?”
“Nope. I’m not. But if I was, I’d probably say the same thing.”
“Yeah.” God, how was this supposed to work? Did you trust a guy just because? Did you never trust him? This was partly why he only dated blind men. The other part had something to do with his parents’ accusations that he was only interested in men because he wanted someone to take care of him. That had made him fiercely independent.
“How about I tell you a bit about myself,” Lucien suggested. “Would that make you more comfortable?”
Trey nodded. He loved to learn about people. Loved it.
“I own a gym. I love reading—horror novels being my genre of choice, as you might have guessed. My mom and sister are care carrying PFLAG members. Speaking of members, I’m a member of the Dragonfire club as a Top.”
“What’s the Dragonfire club?” A gym…oh, there could be a book there.
“It’s a BDSM club.” Straightforward, no dissemination.
“A BDSM… You’r
e serious?” Okay, that could be fascinating.
“I am. It isn’t something I hide because it’s an important facet of my sex life and I consider not mentioning it akin to lying.”
“So, what? You beat people? Is it dangerous?” Trey wanted to know more. And maybe not just for research. Because he’d already read up on it without using it in any books, hadn’t he?
“No, no. Beating is a very small portion of BDSM. It’s about…it’s about control. It’s about power. It’s about pleasure and pain and focus.”
Trey’s cheeks were heating up, his body suddenly achingly tight, and he fumbled for his coffee cup.
“Oh…” Lucien touched his cheek. “You have an interest in it yourself? A passion for the lifestyle?”
“I. I don’t. I mean. Okay. We need to slow down. I’m going to spill my coffee.”
“We’re only talking.” Lucien took the cup from his fingers and put it down on the table, then grabbed hold of his hands and held them.
Trey pulled in a breath, then another, then a third, and he began to relax.
“There you go. We’re only talking,” Lucien said again, deep voice soothing and exciting at the same time.
“Sorry. Sorry, man. That was unexpected.”
“No, I think it was good,” countered Lucien. “I think we have some chemistry, a little symmetry between us.”
“You think?” Trey actually grinned, the urge to put his dark glasses on huge.
“I think we do big time.” Lucien’s hands still held his and it was like they were connected, electricity buzzing between them.
“I didn’t mean to short out, man. Sorry.”
