Ben Parker has hidden his true nature his whole life. The laws in 1952 are very clear, and to expose himself would mean rotting in jail, shunned or worse, a possible death sentence. Unable to find a job, he turned to crime. Seven years later, he’s still angry and tired of hiding who he really is from the world. After meeting Thomas, Ben can envision himself settling down for the first time. The only problem is, he’s already forced Thomas to break the law and become his alibi. And then there’s the little obstacle of Tom’s wife, family, and commitment to the town of Ramer.
Ben knows what he wants, but in order to get it, Tom will have to turn his back on society and the vows he’s made if they are to find the happiness they deserve.
Coming to Dreamspinner Press December 29th
Available for pre-order HERE
To all those who have struggled to find their place in this world. This book is for you.
Heat and friction and male and…. Damn, Tom was so lost to the pleasure rippling through his body. His mind reeled, fought, and balked, but his body kept reacting to Ben’s ministrations. The sensations overwhelmed him—the calluses sliding along his length, the feel of Ben’s cockhead sliding against his own, the man’s breath, tongue, and lips against Tom’s neck, the heavy weight on top of him. He was helpless against the onslaught, a wild animal, acting on instinct, need, want.
He thrust into Ben’s fist, moaning wantonly. He was so hard. So very fucking hard he couldn’t think beyond the pleasures of the flesh, his need for release.
Tom stretched his arm out, and his fingers brushed against cold steel. Gun. The gun he kept beneath his pillow. The weapon he kept close at night to protect his family. His wife. His son. Dear God, he was rutting against a man—a criminal—in his marital bed.
As the gravity of what he was doing, the sin he was committing in the very bed where his son was conceived, set in, Tom wrapped his hand around the gun, his finger against the trigger as he pulled it from beneath the pillow. In a split second of clarity, he weighed his options. Press the weapon to his own depraved head and squeeze… end it. Instead he pulled the hammer back and pressed the barrel against Ben’s head.
Ben went dead still; Tom couldn’t feel Ben’s breath or the rise and fall of his chest for long, drawn-out moments. After what felt like an eternity, the battle of right and wrong still waging within Tom, Ben slowly released his hold on their cocks and lifted his head. Wary dark eyes looked at Tom with confusion and question. The expression on Ben’s face almost stripped Tom of his resolve to do the right thing, but he squashed the feeling. He refused to give in to his desires.
“Get off me,” Tom demanded, his voice surprisingly even.
Tom kept the gun trained on Ben as he slowly slid off the bed and raised his hands.
“What the hell?”
Tom choked down the disgust when his hard cock throbbed at the sight of Ben standing there with his pants open, erection straining upward. He needed this man gone, needed to take control of the situation and of himself, something he couldn’t do with the temptation standing before him. He was weak. He knew in his gut if he allowed Ben to stay, they would be fucking, marital bed and family be damned.
“Get out,” Tom ordered as he pulled himself to a sitting position and steadied the gun with his injured hand to keep it from shaking. “Get out of my house, off my property, and out of my town.”
“I said get the fuck out! Now!” Tom roared.
Ben fastened up his pants and adjusted his shirt, never taking his gaze from Tom.
Please! Please just go. Goddamn you, please! Tom silently pleaded.
“This isn’t over,” Ben warned, then turned and left the room.
Tom kept the gun trained on the empty hallway long after he heard Ben’s footsteps move through the house, the front door open and close, and the distinct sound of boots tromping down the porch stairs. He held it at the ready long after everything was silent, until his arms began to shake so hard he could no longer physically do so.
Easing the hammer back into place, Tom stared at the gun as it slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a thud. Ben was right. It wasn’t over, because Tom was too fucking weak, too much of a coward to end it.