It’s Re-Release day, finally!
I managed to get all copies taken down from all vendors from the previous Torquere Press version (which I have not been paid for since June of 2016), so that I could republish the M/M/M novella.
For the first 90 days it will be exclusively on Amazon as part of the Kindle Unlimited program; after that I’ll release it on the other sites including Kobo, Barnes and Noble, ibooks, Google, etc.
Amazon U.S. version
Amazon UK version
Brent’s a bully who picks on his workmate Alex. What Brent doesn’t realize, however, is that Alex wants him, but is too scared to ask. Meanwhile Brent’s convinced that all he needs is a firm hand to push him down and force him to be a good guy.
Then he meets Craig, an muscled veteran working at the local 7-Eleven. Craig knows a switch when he sees it, and Brent’s got it written all over him. He needs a hard takedown and some training to harness that sadistic side. Craig decides that what might be best is for all three of them to get together. Only by embracing honesty and self-control can each of them find what they need.
Brent was a bully, or so the guys on the job told him. They avoided contact with him whenever possible, except when they were depending on him to steady a frame or support a beam. He was a big guy, six feet and well-muscled thanks to a strict regimen at the gym. All-American good looks belied a dark temper.
While he liked pushing, Brent wanted someone to push back. Somebody older, somebody with some fucking authority. Unfortunately, everyone he had pushed so far had been complete pussies.
So it wasn’t really that much of a surprise that he got pissed off sometimes. When Brent punched Alex, a fellow worker, for knocking over his box of nails, the foreman called for an early lunch. Brent headed to his favorite spot, the local 7-Eleven in Riverside, California.
There were only a few others in the convenience store, mostly construction workers like himself, filling up their Big Gulps, grabbing their hot dogs or whatever. Brent glanced over at the two cashiers. His eyes slid over one of them, a fellow in his late forties or fifties perhaps, salt and pepper hair. Solid-looking, similar height, and even more muscled than him. Looked ex-military, a tough guy. Brent smirked to himself. Probably had a wife and three kids at home and might bust a few ribs if Brent hit on him. It might be fun to start a fight, but that wasn’t what he was looking for.
Brent wandered over to the drinks to get himself some Mountain Dew; a little sugar and caffeine might do him good. As he waited for the machine to fill his cup, he glanced up at the shiny laminated front of the machine, and saw a reflection of the cashier.
Now this was interesting. Tough Guy was staring at his ass. Brent turned around and gave the guy a challenging glare, just to see what he’d do. The guy only grinned—a grin that melded into heat in his eyes. Brent felt his groin tighten.
Okay. Maybe a possibility.
Slowly, Brent turned around, placed the cap on his cup, and stared back at the cashier. The other attendant wasn’t behind the counter. In the back perhaps, taking a break, who knew? Tough Guy met Brent’s eyes, and he knew, oh yeah, maybe a wife and kids, but definitely some ass on the side. Brent smiled, letting his lust show. Tough Guy crooked his finger for him to come over.
Brent almost balked; who was this bozo to tell him what to do? Still he did have a drink to purchase, and he was curious. He walked over, slapping down a couple of bills to pay for the drink, feeling oddly self-conscious. The cashier’s eyes moved over him with a dark hunger. It gave him an unusual quiver in the gut, not to mention lower down. “Hey,” Brent said softly, as the man rang up the change, not sure what else to say. Why are you watching me? He wanted to say it, but couldn’t.
“Hey,” Tough Guy said, handing him his change. He leaned forward, one meaty hand splayed out on the counter, making his bicep bulge even further. “To answer your question, yes. I was watching you.”
Brent’s mouth dropped open, and he scowled. Had the guy read it off his face? Or was he just that cocky? “Yeah, I was wondering if you were a cocksucker or just looked like one,” he returned. Well, now he’d know if those fists hit hard or not. A shiver went through him.
Tough Guy laughed. He glanced up—at the security cameras, Brent realized—then leaned in even closer. “Actually, I usually make some motherfucker like you suck my cock.” He backed up a few steps as the other attendant returned from the back and exchanged a few whispered words with him. Then he brushed his hand over Brent’s, slowly. “Come see me in the back, and I’ll show you.”
Brent watched the man head to the back of the store and pass through the double doors to the storage area. He wondered if he should. Had the guy noticed that he was completely engorged now? Make him, huh. How far would he go? Probably just another talker, Brent figured, but he had to go see for himself.
So he headed on back.
It was cool in there, boxes stacked high with things like potato chips and beer, not a whole lot of room for maneuvering, but Brent wasn’t too concerned. Or at least that’s what he told his racing heart. He didn’t see the cashier, and then suddenly Tough Guy was there, grabbing Brent’s T-shirt and shoving him back against the back wall. Brent grunted, adrenaline spiking, heart in his throat, and dick ready to explode.
“You really think you can make me?” Brent asked with a sneer, struggling against the hold. He was impressed and a little intimidated to find out that Tough Guy was as strong as he looked. Even more impressive, there didn’t seem to be a speck of hesitation in the man’s steel-gray eyes. Maybe he really had been telling the truth.
“The name’s Craig. And yes.” Craig shoved a meaty arm against Brent’s throat, pinning him against the cinder block wall, hips pressing up against him. It felt like a million degrees with Craig’s body up against his, and even if Brent had wanted to, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to break that hold and get away. Craig tilted his head a little, moving in closer, and then kissed him, tongue invading, hot spit, so fucking good it made Brent dizzy.
Brent fought the kiss, even though he wanted to return the passion. But oh, no. Craig still hadn’t proven himself yet. He snarled, biting at Craig’s lips and got a hard bite to his lower lip in return. That sent a spark clean down to his dick. He growled with frustration.
“I seem to remember something about you sucking my cock,” Craig said in a low voice, grabbing at what little hair there was on the nape of Brent’s neck. His other hand was on Brent’s shoulder, shoving him down to his knees. Brent struggled, cursing, face red, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. Craig was that strong. And fuck if he was gonna tell him he liked the hair pulling.
Soon Brent found himself face to fly, and Craig was pulling down his zipper, releasing a thick cock with veins standing out, hard and ready to be sucked. He rubbed his organ against Brent’s cheek, grunting a little at the friction against Brent’s stubble, still keeping that death grip on the hair. Brent spat and watched the saliva drip down the shaft. “Fucking make me.”