Content Includes: #eroticromance, #MM, #contemporary.
Blurb
One man is searching for his past, the other needs to find his future.
Johnny Lee Paradise, owner of the Savannah blues club, Risque Blue, and Prieste V. Beaumont, an L.A. film producer, live different lives on opposite sides of the country. Both are alone, both hide secret desires and haunting fears. One spring night, as a fluke snowstorm blankets Savannah, with a turn of the tarot card Madam Fate changes the destiny for both of these men.
Prieste is looking for his long-lost stepsister; Johnny is looking for a night's sexy diversion, when Prieste arrives late one night at the Risque Blue. Amidst the magic of Savannah, tragic ghosts of the past, Prieste's search for closure, and Johnny's newfound taste for passionate submission--and a good erotic spanking provided by the more dominant Prieste--will love find a way to save these two men from the unhappy chains of the past? Or will their fears part them forever? In Savannah, at the Risque Blue, anything is possible, even perhaps, finding lasting and healing love.
Excerpt
“I heard folks are friendly here in the South. They like to make a man welcome.” Prieste ambled across the room to stand in front of Johnny and stare down at him.
“Niceties are always a good way of making a man welcome,” Johnny said, so hot to move to the next level he could hardly bear it. This man knew how to play real good.
Prieste glanced to the side. His gaze widened when he saw the cut-glass bowl. Then he chuckled. He walked over to sift through the contents. He turned back to Johnny.
“You like to make a man feel welcome, don’t you, Mr. Johnny Lee Paradise?”
“Safe and protected too,” Johnny responded.
“So I see,” Prieste said as he allowed the colorful array of condom packets to drift back into the bowl. He turned to face Johnny. “Party favors.”
“I have a broad range of tastes,” Johnny said. “I like to be prepared for any…surprises.”
“Even strangers brought in by snowstorms?”
“Especially strangers brought in by snowstorms.”
Prieste moved back to Johnny. He reached down, grabbed Johnny’s ankle, lifted his leg, and spread him wide, nudging himself between Johnny’s outspread legs. “You a player?” he asked.
“I’m selective,” Johnny said, breathless with anticipation.
Prieste cocked his head. “Are you?”
He reached forward to cup Johnny’s face. He leaned down, putting them eye to eye. “I could be anyone. I could be a man on the run. A serial killer. The worst sort of liar. I could be here to steal you blind. You’ve got a lot of nice things in this room.”
Johnny arched. He didn’t blink, didn’t look away. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited by a man. “You might be any or all of those things. And you might not.”
“You think you still want to find out?”
Prieste moved his hands away from Johnny’s cheeks and cupped his nape, thumbs pressing lightly against his throat. Johnny should have been scared as shit. But he wasn’t. Prieste stroked his thumbs up and down, over Johnny’s Adam’s apple, circling, then pressing at the base of his throat.
Johnny’s breaths quickened, and increased rhythm. Fuck, he was going to come in his pants if they didn’t do something real fast.
“You still want it?” Prieste asked softly.
Dangerous? Oh God, this man was absolutely lethal.
“Yes,” he whispered. It was all he could manage.
It was the deep, hungry kiss that sealed the deal. Right now this man could ask Johnny to do anything, and he’d do it without a whimper. The firmness of strong hands on his neck, the demanding kiss that stole what was left of his breath sent him to a dizzying place he’d never been to before. Absolutely, he had to experience more.
