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A Taste of Paradise (MM)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 23,329
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[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Romance, M/M, HEA]

For all his life, Riordan Maguire has chosen his career over feelings. He prefers to have even the most basic emotional needs satisfied with the help of professionals, but his attitude gets challenged when a wrong flight booking on a business trip takes him to a peaceful little tropical island instead of his intended destination.

Finding himself stranded for a week, he meets Marc Forrester, a social worker with summer-sky-blue eyes, a sunny look at life, and a heart bruised by too many inconsiderate lovers—lovers like Riordan. They begin an affair which to Riordan is nothing but a suitable arrangement, and Marc knows his own weaknesses well enough to realise that his instant attraction to Riordan only proves that they don't stand a chance—but maybe one involuntary taste of paradise is all it takes to change their lives.

A Siren Erotic Romance


New Page 1



The expression on Riordan’s face made Marc wish for a camera. If ever he’d seen anything that could only be described as an indignant glare, it was the look Riordan currently gave him.

“Shorts?” Riordan repeated in a tone that sounded as if Marc had suggested he wear a glittering pink thong. “Beachwear?”

“Well, yeah. This is an island. Almost half of its ground area consists of beaches, so what do you think people wear around here? Surely you’ve been swimming before, haven’t you? Or worn shorts?” he added with a wink.

“Uh, probably. At some point,” Riordan said vaguely.

It didn’t sound as though he could even remember that time, which was a pity, really. Riordan definitely had the legs for short trousers. Marc had checked that out earlier. Hell, the man had a body for pretty much anything. Even a long night of snuggling up to it tightly. Marc was fairly certain Riordan wouldn’t have allowed for that to happen if he’d known, but the poor thing really had been close to comatose.

Still frowning contemptuously, Riordan ogled his clothes.

“Come on, don’t be such a big baby.” Marc chuckled. “It’s what everybody wears. A lot of people look silly in it, which you won’t, and besides, nobody here knows you anyway,” he continued, pushing Riordan. “In fact, here’s what we’re going to do. Put on your shirt, leave the top four or five buttons undone, and roll up the sleeves like you did yesterday, then I’ll take you shopping.”

“Marc, I—”

“You’re going to die a slow and horrible death by inward combustion if you wear your clothes outside. It might be a little faster if you put on the jacket, but it will be horrible nonetheless. I swear.”

The ghost of a smile fluttered across Riordan’s face. “Maybe I should just stay inside then,” he said sensibly.

“Forget that.” Lunging forward, Marc grabbed his hand, surprising both himself and Riordan. “We’re going shopping now.” He spun around and pulled a reluctant Riordan with him.

“Wait, my shirt!”

“If you want to wear it, you’ll have to put it on while we’re walking. I’m not wasting another minute on arguing with you while you are getting closer to the end.”

Riordan made a noise that actually sounded almost like an amused snort as he grabbed his shirt and followed Marc out of the room. He dressed while they walked down the corridor, sticking to the styling Marc had suggested. When they walked across the small entrance area, Riordan stopped and went up to the reception desk. “I have an important call to make,” he explained. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a moment.” Marc sighed and went outside. He remembered Riordan saying he wanted to contact his boss and explain about the mess he was in. 

Riordan joined him only a little later, looking annoyed but, at the same time, relieved.

“Did you talk to your boss?” Marc enquired politely.


“What did he say?”

“He was livid. What else did you expect? He’s gonna wait for my return, though, so I’ll have the pleasure of sacking that stupid bitch myself.”

“Oh, okay. I guess this means that you have a week to kill now, huh?”

For the first time since they’d met, Riordan looked like he was about to relax. The corner of his mouth was raised a little as if he was close to a smile. “I guess it does. So, where are we going today? I’m fairly certain I heard you talk about taking me shopping.”

“Uh, okay, let’s see...” Marc looked around, trying to remember where the shop was that had those funny T-shirts in the window. “Yep, this way.”

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Riordan asked sceptically. His good mood had disappeared again already.

Half-turning back to him, Marc rolled his eyes. “It’s an island, Rhee, and it’s not exactly big. Even if we walked into the exact opposite direction, we’d get there eventually.” He’d expected Riordan to complain about the use of a nickname, but either Riordan hadn’t noticed or couldn’t be bothered to argue.

He did scowl a bit, though, as he said, “Maybe. It’s just that I’d prefer to get to wherever there is sooner rather than later. Remember the thing about me wearing all those clothes? And it’s so fucking hot again,” he groaned, and wiped his sweaty forehead. “It’s only eight o’clock. Shouldn’t it be at least a bit cooler in the morning?”

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to complain about, mister. You wanted to wear those clothes all day long, and you were seriously considering wearing the jacket—and probably even the tie,” Marc teased.

Riordan huffed a little. “I was not.”

“Yes you were.”

“Was not.”

The tone in Riordan’s voice had Marc turn around and look at him. Yes, he’d heard right. The man was actually smiling, and what was more, it was a real, honestly humorous smile, not just the superficial baring of teeth Marc had seen on so many men of Riordan’s kind, including him.

The smile looked undeniably good on Riordan. It made his eyes gleam and set off his full lips. It also revealed a little chip in his left upper front tooth. Just a tiny imperfection, but on a man like Riordan, it added a charming touch of humanity. Marc wondered why he hadn’t had it corrected but didn’t dare ask for fear of disturbing this new, lighter mood between them. It wasn’t just light. It was almost...flirtatious.




“Wanna go back to my room?” Marc asked unexpectedly, his voice rough with that nice, tight tinge all of a sudden. The grin was still there, but his expression had become more passionate. More...horny.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Riordan got up, astonished when the world needed a moment to catch up with his movement. A multitude of boozy business lunches had left him with a very thorough knowledge of how much he could handle without it having a detectable effect on him. This time he’d apparently miscalculated.

He covered Marc’s mouth with his own the moment they were through the door. Stumbling and groping each other for support, they made it to the side of the building where a large, gnarled tree protected them from view. Riordan pushed his tongue down Marc’s throat, preparing him for what he intended to push down there as soon as he could, but Marc stiffened in his hold and turned his head away.

“Gee, mate, easy!” He laughed. “In case you wondered, my tonsils are still in there and quite all right.”

So Marc was not much one for kissing, which made him all the more desirable in Riordan’s opinion. He’d never gotten the hang of snogging and was quite happy that the guys he usually had intercourse with didn’t require it either. In fact, he’d only meant it as a favour to Marc in the first place anyway. That, and with it foreplay in general out of the way, he gave Marc’s shirt an encouraging downwards tug, but Marc didn’t seem to understand, so he added a perhaps more easily understandable, “Get on your knees.”

Maybe there was something wrong with Marc’s hearing, or maybe he’d changed his mind, because he remained standing, the omnipresent smile dancing on his face. “Baby, I said I was gonna suck you off. I did not say I’d—”

“Get on your knees and suck my dick!” Riordan repeated in the tone of voice that had so far gotten every employee with attitude problems back on track. There was a spark of something unreadable in Marc’s eyes as he at last dropped to his knees and delved for Riordan’s fly.

The first brush of humid, warm air on Riordan’s at-last-freed cock felt blissful. It wasn’t the touch he longed for, but at least he could hope for that to come soon now. Marc’s fingers stroked down his almost entirely erect length, and Riordan could virtually feel yet more blood rush south to get him to his full, rather impressive size.

He felt Marc’s fingertips brush his balls in a cautious caress. So the boy wanted to take his time. Explore, play a little. Riordan could have happily come within about thirty seconds, but he was willing to indulge the cute thing that was brightening his day so skilfully, so he let Marc stroke, caress, and fumble away for a while. It wasn’t all that bad. Not exactly what he was used to, but Marc had talented fingers, and his touch on the parts of Riordan that usually were neglected was more arousing than Riordan would have expected. Nice though it was, that wasn’t really what he was here for.

Tilting his hips forwards, he eventually reminded Marc of what he was supposed to do down there, immensely relieved when Marc at last obeyed and opened his mouth. Fucking tease! Riordan heard his own groan deep in his throat as the tip of Marc’s tongue flicked over the, by now, almost painfully throbbing head of his cock. He would have loved to simply push in, but again, Marc denied him his wish and held him back with both hands against his hips. At least he took in the whole head now, bobbing his head and sucking with increasing pressure. Riordan gave a shallow thrust. Marc pulled back a little and loosened that wonderful tightness. Riordan whined in frustration. He was too fucking close for that kind of games.

“Let me fuck your mouth,” he gasped roughly, and looked down just as Marc smiled up at him. Well, his summer-sky blue eyes did, anyway. His mouth couldn’t. It was shaped into a perfect O around the fat, moisture-glistening head of Riordan’s cock.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so hot.” Riordan sighed and raised his hands to Marc’s head.

Curling his fingers in Marc’s blond, tousled hair, he brought him in the right position and pushed in, deeper than Marc had taken him yet. Marc grunted in surprise but didn’t struggle against the hold, so Riordan went on with it. Even in his close to desperate state, he’d realised that Marc was far from being able to take all Riordan had to offer, so he kept his thrusts shallow, delighted when Marc wrapped his fingers around the base of Riordan’s erection, squeezing tightly to better make him imagine those last few inches.


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