STORY EXCERPT

Jamie raised his arm to get Ash’s attention, but quickly yanked it down, cupping his upper arm with his hand. The way sharp pain pulsed through it he feared William had done a lot more damage than bruising.

“You all right?” Sloane’s gaze flicked to Jamie’s hand, concern knitting his brows.

“Pinched a nerve.” Jamie forced a smile. “Happens when I use the espresso machine at work. You ever operate one of those? Brutal.”

He didn’t work with an espresso machine and had no idea why he’d used that excuse. He worked at a pet store, and the only thing resembling a coffee machine was the battered one in the storage room that doubled as a break room.

 Sloane didn’t look convinced. “I’m more of a French press guy. Less hazardous to my limbs.”

“I never could figure out how to work those things,” Jamie confessed, hoping to steer Sloane’s attention away from his arm. William was the last person he wanted to think about, let alone discuss. He could still see those icy-blue eyes and the monster behind them.

When Ash sauntered his way, Jamie ordered another mojito, desperate to forget the violence and William’s threat. That had been the first time William had laid a hand on him, but Jamie’s gut told him it wouldn’t be the last. Not when William had acted like Jamie ending things was merely a suggestion. He was the biggest danger in Jamie’s life, and Jamie couldn’t figure out how to get William to leave him alone. Chad had been an emotional drain, but he’d never made a threat or refused to break up.

Sloane leaned a little closer, pitching his voice soft and low by Jamie’s ear. “Not gonna lie, kitten. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.”

All thoughts of William vanished as electricity shot straight to Jamie’s cock. For a dizzying second, he’d almost forgotten why that was a problem.

When Sloane’s lips pulled back, the smile that followed carried just enough wickedness to leave its fingerprints on Jamie’s soul.

Holy. Shit.

Jamie swallowed roughly, the bar forgotten as he stared into Sloane’s bluish-gray eyes. What was it about the guy that drew him in so strongly, that made Sloane’s gaze feel almost hypnotic?

With a smile, Sloane sipped his drink, one eyebrow cocked in silent invitation. The ball was in Jamie's court now. The silence between them stretched just long enough to be interesting rather than awkward.

“Do you need validation?” Jamie tapped his fingers against his glass. “My dating history’s basically a masterclass in men with validation issues, so let me know up front if you’re the type who needs a gold star sticker every time you make someone blush.”

That might’ve sounded harsh to most, but after dealing with one loser after another, Jamie was over emotionally draining assholes. Sloane was the hottest guy who’d ever flirted with him, but that didn’t mean Sloane was stable. Most gorgeous men were crazy. That was what Jamie had heard, and he wasn’t in a rush to find out if it was true. He’d rather date his hand than deal with another nutjob.

Sloane’s gaze never wavered. “Validation’s for people who don’t know what they bring to the table. I built the damn table.”

Jamie blinked twice, mojito halfway to his lips. His brain cells were having an emergency meeting, and not a single one showed up with notes.

The confidence in Sloane’s voice… That did things to Jamie’s pulse.

Things he wasn’t ready to psychoanalyze, like why that level of cockiness made his thighs clench. Not when he was two mojitos in and his mind was flashing, Error 404: Brain not found.

Sloane brushed Jamie’s arm, careful not to touch where it hurt. “Did I answer your question to your satisfaction?”

This man definitely wasn’t a Chad or William. Not with that level of commanding presence. The way his eyes traced Jamie’s face felt as if Sloane was reading his mind.

Grabbing his glass, Jamie gulped down half his mojito in one go, eyeing Sloane over the rim. Figures. The universe finally sends me a hot guy who doesn’t need a therapy session every five minutes, and I’m short-circuiting like I’ve been asked to defuse a bomb with dental floss. He shot Sloane a sidelong glance. “My dating history didn’t prepare me for someone with actual self-esteem. It’s honestly rude of you.”

Sloane placed a hand over his heart with theatrical flair. “My sincerest apologies, kitten. How dare I have actual self-esteem while flirting with the most gorgeous man in the bar?” His grin widened lazily, a flicker of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Next time I’ll lead with my childhood trauma and a PowerPoint about my trust issues.”

Jamie found himself fighting a smile despite feeling strangely at ease with this ridiculous man.

Gradually, his body relaxed the way it did after surviving a hostage negotiation. Sloane had this effect, like he could soak up all the stress and return it repackaged as something lighter. Jamie kept leaning in, laughing at the guy’s stories about weird bar bathrooms and the proper etiquette for drinking sake wine with strangers.

The edges of Sloane’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. Nothing predatory about it. The kind of look that would make most people instantly start confessing hidden sins or ask him to help them move a couch. Jamie wasn’t sure how much alcohol it took to trick his brain into feeling safe after the night he’d had, but Sloane had gotten him close.

Another mojito appeared in front of him, glass sweating condensation all over his napkin. He tipped back half of it in one swallow, and the last shreds of tension loosened enough that he didn’t notice his body pitching sideways on the stool until his head practically landed on Sloane’s shoulder.

He caught himself just in time, but his hand found Sloane’s knee instead. His jeans felt like they’d been washed three thousand times, soft and worn-in. Jamie’s laugh came out loud, way too loud for the moment, but he didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

Sloane just glanced down, then back up, eyes smiling like Jamie had handed him a present. The guy’s laughter was softer, but he didn’t let Jamie go. The sound in the bar faded into background static, voices blending and swirling away from the island he and Sloane had made at this end of the bar.

Sloane’s smile never faded. He watched Jamie, eyes tracking every sharp turn in his mood, every twitch of his mouth. Jamie felt seen, and it freaked him out more than he wanted to admit.

At some point, Sloane’s hand found Jamie’s arm again. This time, he just anchored Jamie with the lightest possible grip, thumb resting on the inside of his elbow, as though Sloane had already mapped out which moves would send Jamie running and which ones would keep him still.

“You wanna exchange numbers?” Jamie asked as his mind screamed that the alcohol was making him reckless. He swatted that voice away. No nagging tonight. Plus, he couldn’t even remember why he shouldn’t be doing this.

Taking Jamie’s phone, Sloane thumbed in his digits and handed it back. “Text me so I have yours.”

Jamie shot off a text. If I wake up in a tub of ice missing my kidneys, I’ll call you first.

Sloane’s laugh was rich and magnetic, sinking into Jamie like it belonged there. “Deal.”

ADULT EXCERPT

Sloane’s mouth traveled lower, pressing kisses along Jamie's jaw, down his throat, pausing at his collarbone to suck gently. Each touch was worship, devotion painted across Jamie's skin in sensation. When teeth grazed that junction where neck met shoulder, Jamie’s whole body jerked, electricity shooting straight to his cock.

“Sensitive there,” Sloane observed, voice rough with want.

Jamie could only nod, speech having abandoned him entirely. That spot throbbed with awareness, nerves singing, demanding more attention that Sloane seemed happy to provide.

Time became elastic, stretching and contracting around their exploration. Sloane’s mouth found Jamie’s nipple, tongue circling before teeth closed gently around it. Jamie arched, hands tangling in Sloane’s hair, holding him there while pleasure sparked through his nervous system.

“Want you,” Jamie managed, the words scraped raw from his throat.

“That how you want it, Jamie?” His words buzzed in Jamie’s ear, filthy and delicious. “Want it hard? Want me to fuck you like you deserve?”

“Yes.” A dozen images flashed through Jamie’s mind, each more explicit than the last. But underneath the lust was something softer, needier. “Want to feel you. All of you. Inside me.”

Sloane’s control visibly cracked, jaw clenching as his cock twitched against Jamie’s thigh.

Jamie was trembling, the hunger rolling through his bloodstream. Their hips jerked together, friction ratcheting up until it hurt, but Jamie didn’t care.

Sloane reached toward the nightstand, movements careful despite the tremor in his hands. The drawer slid open, revealing exactly what they needed. Preparation, Jamie realized. Sloane had hoped for this, planned for this possibility.

“On your back,” Sloane murmured, his voice dropped to that register that made Jamie’s toes curl.

Arranging himself took effort when every muscle had gone liquid, but Jamie managed it, spreading his legs in invitation. Vulnerability crashed over him—exposed, wanting, trusting—but Sloane’s expression chased away any doubt. He looked at Jamie like he was witnessing something sacred.

The first touch of slick fingers made Jamie’s breath hitch. Sloane worked slowly, one finger tracing Jamie’s entrance, teasing but not penetrating. Just acclimatizing him to the sensation, the promise of what would come.

“Breathe,” Sloane coached, and Jamie realized he’d been holding his breath.

Exhaling shakily, Jamie forced his muscles to relax. The first finger slipped inside, gentle but insistent. Not pain, just pressure and a strangeness that his body quickly adapted to. Sloane worked him carefully, patiently, adding a second finger only when Jamie started rolling his hips, seeking more.

“That’s it,” Sloane praised, fingers curling to find that spot that made Jamie see stars. “So good for me.”

Jamie’s cock leaked against his stomach, neglected, but somehow, that made everything more intense. All his focus narrowed to where Sloane was taking him apart with methodical dedication.

A third finger joined the others, stretching Jamie wider. The burn was good, grounding, preparation for something bigger. Sloane’s free hand stroked Jamie’s thigh, soothing and arousing in equal measure.

Something shifted in Sloane’s expression, becoming raw and exposed. He withdrew his fingers, leaving Jamie empty and wanting. The slick sound of lube made anticipation coil tighter in Jamie’s belly.

“Been thinking about this since that first night,” he rasped out. “Wanted to see you like this, fucked out, desperate for my dick.”

“God, you have no idea,” Jamie gasped. “I’m dying for it.”

He squeezed, kneading Jamie’s cheeks, spreading them apart.

Sloane groaned. “Look at this. Fuck, Jamie, your ass is gorgeous. Bet you’ll take my cock so well.”

Jamie whimpered, desperate. “Please. Want it. Want you.”

Sloane lined up and pushed in, slow, stretching Jamie inch by inch. The burn made Jamie’s toes curl, but Sloane’s hands soothed him, roaming Jamie’s back, caressing his hips, grounding him in his touch.

Sloane went slowly, careful not to hurt.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Sloane groaned, sinking deeper.

Jamie gasped, clutching the edge of the bed. His hole ached then clenched around him, greedily sucking him in.

Sloane rocked, feeding Jamie more cock with every thrust, until finally his hips slapped Jamie’s ass and he bottomed out.

He stilled, both of them panting, sweat slick along their spines.

Jamie’s pulse thundered. Sloane’s cock throbbed deep inside, stretching him beyond full.

Sloane drew out then slammed back in. The angle shot fireworks behind Jammie’s eyes. He yelped, but Sloane just groaned, holding Jamie’s hips steady and fucking him deeper.

“Look at you, mate. Taking it like you were made for my dick,” he growled, slamming in again. “So fucking pretty. So hot when you moan.”

Jamie couldn’t stop. Every time Sloane pounded into him, Jamie made another broken sound. The friction, the stretch, the pure fucking need obliterated everything but the drive to come.

Sloane leaned over Jamie’s back, bracketing Jamie with his arms, kissing his neck, biting his ear, fucking him slow and deep.

“You feel amazing,” Sloane whispered, his voice thick. “So good. I wanna make you come just like this.”