[Siren Publishing: The Bellann Summer ManLove Collection: Alternative Contemporary Romance, MM, with BDSM elements, bondage, flogging, sex toys, HEA]
Cade Miller and Bret James cordially invite you to attend their Independence Day picnic on July 4th. Come and enjoy great food, music, and fireworks. Children and pets are more than welcome.
While Bret is working on the picnic preparations, Cade receives disturbing health news that changes his views on his and Bret’s life together. He decides the picnic is a perfect place to legally solidify their union. Bret agrees but has a request. One that will challenge Cade to rely on and manipulate human nature. His plan is simple. Share his decision, make a suggestion, and request to keep the secret.
Secrets. Through the ages, secrets have caused turmoil between family and friends. The thing about secrets is that they usually aren’t. Cade understands this phenomenon and gambles that his team’s closeness will gain the outcome he seeks. Come watch the fun.
Bellann Summer is a Siren-exclusive author.
“Do you have any thoughts on our wedding?” Cade had an idea, but Bret’s wishes came first. “I’ll make your dreams come true if possible.”
Bret sat up and studied Cade’s face. “Are we in a hurry?”
Cade hesitated. The pup knew him too well. He hated to admit weakness, even to his beloved pup. One of Bret’s eyebrows rose and Cade knew he had been busted. Somehow, his secrets weren’t secret.
“The doctors say my only choice for any relief from the pain is a knee replacement,” Cade admitted. “I want to marry you before I’m forced to have the surgery.”
Bret’s eyes widened. Cade wasn’t sure what had spooked the smaller man.
“Why do I think that it wasn’t the pain that had you giving in to seeking help?”
Cade sighed. “Because you forget that I’m the head of the household and shouldn’t be questioned.”
Bret burst into laughter and Cade sighed again. His bluff hadn’t worked.
“You may be the head, but I’m the neck, love,” Bret answered, referring to an old saying of who controls a household. “When you use the word, force, I know something big has happened. Nothing makes my bear do anything. What’s up?”
“The damn thing is giving out and isn’t bending in a correct manner. I had Jack take a look at it. He suspects that I’m wearing and chipping away bone. I love you too much to risk any obscure loophole in the law that might surface and take away what’s rightfully yours.”
Bret brushed their lips together in a brief kiss. “I know you have a plan in mind. What are the details?”
“First, tell me your thoughts and dreams.” Cade would use every contact he had to make them come true.
“Vows are important,” Bret said. “I always thought I would like to recite the traditional vows and add personal promises to the one I wanted to spend the rest of my existence with.” Bret’s smile lit up the room. “That would be you.”
“Do you want to go with a church and banquet hall?” Cade would need to work miracles to find anything available in the time frame his bum knee would give them. “We could sneak to the courthouse and have a judge marry us.”
A tiny line appeared between Bret’s brows. “I want to include our family and friends. You mentioned a wedding at our Fourth of July picnic. I like that idea. Everyone would be there and the idea of a casual affair mixed with celebration makes me happy.” Bret chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Except, I have a feeling people wouldn’t keep things simple. They’d dress up and spent too much money on gifts.” Bret wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want that, bear.”
“Let’s keep the wedding a secret.”
“Invite everyone we’d want to attend our wedding and let them think we’re hosting a picnic in honor of Independence Day.” The idea seemed logical to Cade.
A sparkle of mischief shown in Bret’s brown eyes.
“That’s a fantastic idea, but can we pull it off?” Bret tapped a finger to his lips in thought. “We’d need more food, and I want a wedding cake. I would like a few flowers for the ceremony.” Bret’s gazed at Cade. “I don’t know if I have enough time to make this happen. The Fourth of July is only four weeks away.”
Cade pulled Bret close and kissed his cheek. “Yes, you can. Have the food catered in. The flower shop and bakery downtown will bend over backward to create the cake of your dreams and find the flowers you want. Think of this as a huge picnic where we take the legal step to add to the seal of our love.”
Bret’s chuckle warmed Cade heart. “Somehow that sentence ended up being romantic.” Bret slid off of Cade’s lap. “Okay, we’re doing it. Next month you will be known as Cade James-Miller.”
Cade grabbed Bret’s arm and lifted him back onto the desk. The pup’s face was red and his shoulders bobbed with silent giggles.
“Nice try.” Cade narrowed his gaze at Bret. “We will be Mr. and Mr. Miller-James. End of discussion, baby.”
Bret clutched his chest with both hands. “Be still my heart. Your romanticism leaves me a pile of mush.”
“I do my best.” Cade gathered the laughing man onto his lap and held him close.
Bret stilled and Cade could almost see his thoughts floating in the air. Cade waited, knowing from past experience that Bret had an idea that would test the careful control Cade had over his small domain.
“What if, what?”
Flynn stared across the field and contemplated Boone’s over the top behavior of the last few days. Something had been riding his pretty baby hard. Flynn sighed and reached for the sturdy coil of rope hanging from a nail near the door. His patience had reached its end. A fine line existed between taking chances and self-destruction. Flynn took his job of keeping Boone in one piece seriously.
Resolve settled into a solid decision. Flynn tapped the rope against the side of his leg. Yep, it was time to get some answers. Flynn left his spot of observation, and with Eddie following, disappeared into the shadows of the barn.
Forty-five minutes later the love of Flynn’s life entered the dim, hay-scented building.
“Flynn, are you in here?”
A lasso dropped with ease around Boone’s upper arms. Flynn tightened the rope and the motorcycle helmet in Boone’s hand fell to the floor.
A sparkle entered Boone’s velvety brown eyes as Flynn reeled him in closer. Those eyes widened when Flynn grabbed Boone’s shoulders, turned the man, and set him against one of the main stabilizing posts of the barn. With efficient movements, Flynn wrapped the rope around Boone’s chest and arms. An effective knot secured Boone just where Flynn wanted him.
One corner of Boone’s generous lips lifted into a wicked smile. “What are you doing?”
Flynn hated that he was about to pop the man’s happy bubble. With a sigh, Flynn stepped back, leaned against a stack of hay bales, and crossed his arms.
“Time to talk, pretty baby.”
The smile disappeared and Boone’s eyebrows drew down to form a thick line.
“What do you mean?”
Flynn kept his demand quiet and calm. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Boone’s mouth parted and he stared at Flynn for a moment before bursting into struggles to loosen the binding rope.
“Take this off,” Boone yelled.
Flynn let his lover work off his excess energy. The man wasn’t going anywhere until Flynn let him. It took some time, but finally a trembling Boone stood before Flynn with hands fisted and sweat plastering wet strands of hair against his forehead. Flynn spotted the moment the combative man switched gears and went for a more charming approach. Too bad for the wild man that a wide smile and spreading his legs wouldn’t be getting Boone anything but what Flynn wanted.
“Come on, cowboy,” Boone coaxed. “Let’s go into the house. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Flynn plucked a piece of straw from a bale and chewed on the end. Boone trying to divert his attention away from an issue with sex wasn’t anything new. It was the glint of panic in his eyes that Flynn found troubling.
Sometimes, taking Boone’s attempts at diversion and making them his own, gained Flynn the answers he sought. Flynn tossed the piece of hay to the floor and move to Boone’s side. He made sure to keep out of the way of the man’s legs. With an array of expert fighting skills, Boone’s legs could subdue a person just as easily as his hands. Flynn leaned over and dropped a kiss on Boone’s full mouth.
As always, attraction exploded between them. Flynn licked and nipped at Boone’s bottom lip. Thoughts of that reddened, swollen mouth wrapped around his cock had Flynn shifting to ease the tightness of his jeans.
“Untie me, Flynn,” Boone whispered. “I want to touch.”
“Not today.” Flynn reached down and opened Boone’s pants.
He pulled out Boone’s dick and stroked its length. Flynn was addicted to the sweet velvet over steely hardness of Boone’s impressive prick. At a young age, Flynn had discovered his interests centered on cock instead of pussy. After many years and one-night stands, he had met Boone and decided to spend the rest of his life paying homage to Boone’s prick.
“What do you think, pretty baby?” Flynn brushed the tip of his nose up the side of Boone’s throat. He smiled at Boone’s shiver. “Right now, Eddie and I are the only ones witnessing your pleasure. Do you realize that at any moment, someone could come in and watch your helpless submission? Does that turn you on?”
Boone’s cock lengthened and his hips shifted. “Flynn, please.”
Flynn kissed the corner of Boone’s mouth and rubbed his hair-covered cheek against Boone’s stubble. He began stroking the firm flesh making sure to give the mushroomed head a little twist.
“Give it up, pretty baby,” Flynn ordered. “I want everything.”
“Flynn.” Boone shuddered under Flynn’s unrelenting caress.
Boone bucked his hips adding to the friction between the rough skin of Flynn’s work-worn palm, and the smoothness of his dick. Pre-cum well up and coated Boone’s flushed cockhead.
“I could stop now,” Flynn threatened. “There would be nothing you could do about it. Should I leave you hanging?”
The man closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the pole, and groaned. Stripes of cum painted Boone’s T-shirt covered belly and the ropes secured around his chest. Flynn continued to milk the pulsating organ until his lover had no more to give.
Boone’s body sagged. Only the bindings kept him in place.
“Are you going to untie me now, cowboy?”
“That depends.” Flynn tucked Boone’s spent prick back inside his underwear and wiped his hand on the material before closing his pants. “Are you going to trust me?”
Boone opened his eyes. “How can you ask me that? I’ve trusted you with everything since we met.”
Flynn didn’t bother to answer. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow. He didn’t have long to wait.
“Fine,” Boone huffed and tried to shift within the confines of the rope.