Lucas Steele's Blog - Posts Tagged "hard-lessons"

Sommer Marsden's Hard Lessons is a collection of four erotic M/M novellas in one book.

Here's a little blurb on each story nestling between the covers...

Blank: cowboy Kyle tries to erase his past one pretty boy at a time under a wide Montana sky.

Unexpected: a sudden stint as a single dad pushes Charlie to his emotional limits.

Report for Repair: a very hot Sunshine Gas and Electric man makes Chance work for it.

Ferryman: Charon's only job is to make another man happy even if the demands of his rock star boss twist his heart.

Still not convinced? Check out this steamy extract...

THE TRICK REALLY IS to blank out the face in your mind. To go above and beyond the call of duty to erase the thought of your obsession. Drugs, booze, sex, running, sleeping, fighting. All of the above would help to lessen the pound of a memory on your brain like a fist. Every single one of them could fuck you over, too.

I touch the boy’s face and close my eyes. My mind wants to supply Jason’s face there. I push the thought aside; focus on the sensation of him sucking my middle finger into his hot wet mouth. I think of him as a boy because he, at nineteen, is a good decade younger than I am. If you consider life experience, probably two.

His youth and beauty and innocence almost make me feel guilty for what I am about to do. Almost. ‘Why won’t you look at me?’ Matthew says. His name is Matthew. Something Irish for the last name but it escapes me. ‘I am looking at you.’

I push my pointer finger past his lips and watch it sink into oblivion, trapped between two plump perfect lips the colour of early summer roses. ‘See me looking at you?’ I can hear the arousal in my voice and my cock is harder than it has been in a long time. That’s mostly because this boy is so close to Jason physically. His voice has almost the same timbre. His cologne is even close. Something faint with a touch of sandalwood and leather and sunshine.

Matthew, he of the beautiful big green eyes, sucks my finger harder and there is that invisible tug between finger and dick. It’s as if my cock is on an unseen string that Matthew with the Irish last name can control with his wet, wet tongue.

I press my shoulders back into the green sofa cushions and he kneels on the floor. His rug is the colour of tomato juice. He presses his lean, hard self between my thighs and leans into me. Kisses me. His tongue is like an electric spark when he touches it to mine. My hips rock up and my cock rubs his. This should stop. ‘Will you look at me naked?’ he asks, kissing over my jaw. His fingers are pushing my polo up just a bit, thumbs rubbing softly along my flanks. It almost tickles, but mostly it just makes me want to take him down. Flip him and fuck him because he is paying for Jason’s sins today. I want him because he could be a stand-in. I hate him because he could be a stand-in. Poor kid doesn’t stand a chance. ‘If you insist.’

I try to keep my tone light but it rumbles out of me with a hint of anger. Matthew catches it and stops, big green eyes searching mine. I force a smile.

‘You don’t like me?’

‘I do.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ I touch his face. I force my hand to be gentle. I stroke.

‘Nothing at all.’

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