TOTTIE TUESDAY !!

Hot Tottie anyone?,....

NEW RELEASE - FOREVER DUSK - 29 OCTOBER 2011

Forever Dusk is released by Silver Publishing on the 29 October 2011...here's a little taste...

Jonah ran a hand through his chestnut colored hair and winced when the huge costume ring he was wearing got caught in the soft waves. "This club had better be worth all the hype. I look like a refugee from a Dracula audition." He glanced over at Theo as he turned down an alleyway and steered the car to a stop. "What's this girl's name again?"

"Clarissa," Theo said, on a breathy sigh.

Jonah rolled his eyes. There it was again, the same stupid dreamy-eyed look Theo had been getting ever since he'd met this girl in the student union last weekend. "Will you stop thinking with your dick and concentrate," Jonah grumbled. "What time did Goth girl say she was meeting us?"

"Eleven," Theo replied, turning off the engine and palming his keys. Turning to look at Jonah, he licked his thumb and reached toward his friend. "Your eyeliner is smudged."

"Dude," Jonah cringed, batting Theo's hand away. "I'll deal with my own eyeliner thanks. Which has got to be the weirdest thing I've ever said." Pulling down the mirror on the visor, he swiped a thumb underneath his eye.

Theo shrugged, glancing at his watch and pulling at the black ruffled shirt he was wearing. "I don't know why you're making such a fuss about a little bit of make-up. Don't you people wear it all the time?"

"You people?" Jonah huffed incredulously. "You're lucky we're friends, pal, or I'd be punching you in your stupid face right now. Just because I'm gay does not mean I wear lip gloss, eyeliner and mince around in a pink tutu." He frowned at his best friend. "I find your stereotypical remarks offensive. But then I find most things about you offensive."

"Says the guy in the tight leather pants and satin shirt," Theo drawled back, not the slightest bit put out at the slur upon his character.

Jonah growled something about Theo's parentage not being quite legal and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. The cold night air permeated the thin fabric of the ruffled satin immediately and he folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to retain some body heat. He thought of his nice warm room, with its nice warm couch and its nice warm TV. Jonah never really knew how he let Theo talk him into these things. Surely he knew well enough by now not to be sucked in when the "best friend" card was played? Obviously not, his inner voice whispered in his ear. If you did, you wouldn't be standing in a cold, dark alley dressed like an Anne Rice reject, while Theo waited for the flavor of the week.

       Theo had met Goth girl or, cue breathy sigh, Clarissa, last week at the student union. Her band had been playing and, for Theo, it had been lust at first sight. The feeling appeared to be mutual, judging by the way Clarissa had run her hands through Theo's short blond hair and sucked his face off between sets. She'd just been one of Theo's many conquests, entranced by his striking blue eyes and easy manner, until she'd started talking about Forever Dusk, this fabulous club they just had to try. It was a theme club she'd said, her voice low and excited as her deep brown eyes had looked back and forth between Jonah and Theo. Everyone dressed in Gothic garb and pretended to be vampires, right down to the fake fangs and puncture wounds. Apparently, the music was epic, the weed even more so and some of the patrons even went so far as to take a little nibble.

I hope this whet your appetite...see you on the 29th!
 

MORE PLEASE MONDAY!

Please sir, may I have some more....

MONDAY'S GUEST STAR : SILVIA VIOLET

Please welcome the lovely Silvia Violet to Lisa's Ramblings today where she is regaling us with a recipe especially for Jason Fleetfoot, the hero of her current release...and giving us a teaser of an excerpt....I defy you not to feel hungry after this !!

I’m doing a series on my blog where I’m making dinner for some of my favorite characters, and other authors are joining in too. I love to cook, and even when a writing deadline is looming, I make time to be in the kitchen. So I’m having a blast coming up with menus ideas and I want to share one here.

Today, I’m cooking for Jason Fleetfoot, deer shifter and hero of the recently released Protect and Serve: Sex on the Hoof. When he’s in deer form, Jason is forced to be an herbivore, but when he’s human, he’s a fan of classic diner food: burgers and fries, chicken-fried steak, oozey grilled cheese and lots of pie. If I were having Jason over for dinner I’d make him a bacon cheese burger, thick cut fries, and blueberry pie.

Silvia’s Bacon Burgers

To 1lb of ground beef, add approximately 1t garlic powder, 1T Worchestershire sauce, ½ tsp cayenne pepper. Divide into four patties and grill until desired level of doneness. When almost done, add thick slices of cheddar. Top with caramelized onions, crispy bacon and anything else you like.

Thick Cut Oven Fries

Preheat over to 450. Slice four Russet potatoes lengthwise until you have 8 wedges from each potato. Spread on a foil lined baking sheet. Drizzle olive oil over them. Then sprinkle them with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Toss until all the wedges are well coated. Cook until tender, shaking the pan every 15 minutes to prevent them from sticking. They’ll cook approximately 40 minutes.

The Best Blueberry Pie

Crust

2 cups flour

1/2 tsp salt

pinch of baking powder

10T cold butter, cut in cubes

8T ice water with a touch of lemon juice

Mix flour, salt, baking powder.  Rub in half the butter by hand.  Use pastry blender to mix in the rest of the butter until pieces are the size of peas. Do not overmix.  Add water and mix with a fork.  Turn out on a cutting board or other hard surface.  Split in half and form into two flattened disks.  Refrigerate for at least 3 hours or up to 2 days.

Filling

4 cups blueberries

1.5 T cornstarch

1.5 T instant tapioca

1/2 cup sugar

Mix sugar, cornstarch and tapioca. Pour over fruit and mix together, tossing lightly.

Roll out one chilled crust.  Fit into a 9in pie pan.  Pour in filling.  Roll out top crust.  Cut vents. Put top crust on pie. Bake at 425F for 15 minutes.  Reduce heat to 350F and cook up to 45 minutes more or until filling is bubbling in center of pie.

Excerpt from Sex on the Hoof

I’m Jason Fleetfoot. I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes in my life. The stupidest of all was taking a job with some assholes intent on manufacturing illegal chemical weapons.

My sister, Natalie, lost her job when her company folded, and I lost mine because my fucking boss was a bastard. I’ve got authority issues. And control issues. Alright, I’m seriously fucked up, but I wasn’t going to let my sister starve because I couldn’t keep it together.

So I made a deal with the devil and damn near got myself and Natalie killed. She saved me, she and her cop boyfriend, Wolf. The name’s not a joke. He’s a werewolf. Did I mention we’re shifters, Natalie and I. Deer shifters. If you think my human form is impressive, you should see me as a ten point buck. So yeah, a werewolf and a deer shifter. Somehow they’re making it work.

As much as I hate being beholden to Wolf, I wouldn’t be where I am now if it wasn’t for him. Once the cops cleared me, Wolf helped me get a job in the crime lab where I can use my knowledge of chemistry and computers for the good guys.

As the newest hire, I work nights, babysitting the equipment and working on what comes in during the wee hours. For the most part, I like it. It’s quiet and I get a chance to play around with new techniques and do a bit of programming. There’s only one problem, Detective Drew Danvers.

He works nights too. Not because he’s new, because he’s a God-damned vampire. They say he was Changed against his will. But what the hell was he doing picking up a vampire at a bar? I certainly have no intention of fucking a vampire. No matter how damn fuckable Drew is. Yeah, I like men, what of it? And Drew is a fine specimen of a man, like some Viking warrior. He’s at least 6’3” with sculpted arms and pecs that make him look like he could lift a truck one-handed. Considering he’s a vamp, he probably can.

Getting involved with Drew would be stupid on too many levels to count. And I’m finished with making stupid decisions. So why does my body want so desperately to be impaled on him – his cock, his fangs, anything he’d like to stick in me. Natalie’s right, my dick really doesn’t communicate with my brain. I don’t just want to fuck him, I want to be taken by him, and I never want that. Like I said, I have control issues. But with Drew . . . No, there’s never going to be anything with Drew.

I hear the buzz that signals someone entering the lab. I glance around from behind the mass spec machine. Shit! Speak of the devil or in this case his undead minion.

My pride will not let me hide even though I want to. I’m not afraid of him, even if I should be. I’m just afraid my unruly cock will give away my interest.

His gaze slides up and down my body. He’s looked at me like this before. But I have never been sure whether it’s sexual interest or him salivating over me like I’m a piece of the lush chocolate cake my grandma used to make on Sundays. “You alone in here, Fleetfoot?”

Shit, maybe he does mean to make a meal out of me. No point in lying though. He probably already knows the answer. Aren’t vampires supposed to be damn near omnipotent? “Newton called in sick, and everyone else is out in the field.

“Good.” Danvers smiles, still eyeing me like I’m prey. If I was in deer form I’d bolt, white tail flagging danger. But I’m a man and his ice blue gaze has me glued to the spot. God above, he’s gorgeous when he smiles. My cock is starting to get uncomfortable in my jeans.

My heart pounds as I try to interpret his response. Does he mean “good I’m going to give you to the best fuck of your life” or “good I’m going to drain your blood and leave you for dead”.

Well, I don't know about the rest of you but I'm starving and buying Sex on The Hoof :)  Thank you so much for sharing with us today Silvia :)

 

Did my Mummy love me?

These are my children...and no, they're not like that with each other all the time...they are typical brother and sister.  They scream, they shout, they fight, they play, they love...just like most brothers and sisters.  And while there are days that I wish they would just be capable of sitting next to each other on the same sofa without poking, annoying, tormenting, each other...I know that they each adore and would be lost without the other.

My main fear...if you can call it that...when I had children, was the worry that eventually, when I was gone, if anyone asked them the question in the title of this post, they would have to think about it...unsure of the answer.

Whether this stems from the fact that I lost my own mum when I was very young, and she'd always been the demonstrative one; or because my dad raised us alone and being a single parent to three kids left little time to stop and say those three little words...I don't know.  Is it because I questioned how my own father felt about me, that I wanted to make sure my kids never wondered the same...probably.

The thing is this, I look back now and, yes, my dad came from a generation where you didn't stop and hug your kids constantly.  You didn't end a telephone conversation with "I love you", or stop what you were doing just to shout it across the room...but I realise now, as an adult, that because it wasn't said, doesn't mean it wasn't felt. 

But I still made sure from the moment they were born, that my arms were my children's safe harbour. That the only thing that matters in this big ole world, is the spot on my left shoulder just in the crook of my neck, that their heads made their own and still automatically fall on now.  My son calls it the Ally and Flo spot.  I tell them I love them every day, probably more often than they want to hear it, but then it's reciprocated as they slot it in their daily chatter every now and then...and my arms are always open.

So when I'm long gone..will my kids ever wonder, "Did my mummy love me?"  Not in a million years.

SENSUOUS SUNDAY!

I hope you've all been to church to confess your sins....because it's time to start the week off with some more....

Forgive me father....

NEW RELEASE - HIGHLAND SHIFT BY LAURA E HARNER - WITH HOT CORNER PRESS

AVAILABLE NOW - HIGHLAND SHIFT BY LAURA E HARNER - FROM HOT CORNER PRESS

BUY HERE

Elena MacFarland wonders what everyone else knows about her new farm that she doesn’t, and whether she’ll live long enough to find out. Betrayed by her fiancé and the powerful Worthington family, Elena fights back and negotiates a comfortable settlement with one small caveat: she must live in Scotland for two years. One kidnapping and two attempts on her life later, the darkly arrogant Scot, Faolan MacGailtry declares himself her new protector and moves into her farmhouse. The only problem? He was present at all three incidents. Elena decides to follow the adage to keep her friends close and enemies closer—but which is he? One by one, Elena uncovers Faolan’s darkest secrets: his Druid heritage, his connection to her past, and finally, the deadly curse that is powerful enough to destroy them both.

A must have for every bookshelf!

UNOFFICIAL SIX!

UNOFFICIAL BECAUSE ALTHOUGH I REMEMBERED TO PICK SIX - I FORGOT TO SIGN UP FOR IT - DOH!!

This week's six comes from my latest short story...due for release on the 5 October with Dreamspinners.

NO STRINGS ATTACHED

Lucas is sure he’s made a mistake—it has to be painfully obvious he’s never been to an underground gay club before. He doesn’t do things like this—he’s too shy, too reserved. He certainly doesn’t expect to be felt up by a total stranger as soon as he walks in the door. But just as he’s talking himself into leaving, the hottest guy in the place with the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen pulls him onto the dance floor. Green Eyes insists on “no names, no strings…” and just this once, Lucas is inclined to agree....

He brushed his hand down Lucas' body and palmed Lucas' hard cock through his pants. 

Green Eyes smiled as his actions drew a whimper from Lucas. 

"I want to feel this in my mouth. Suck you in all the way and make you come 

before I bury myself in that tight ass." 

His eyes were blown wide with lust as he stared deep into Lucas' and said softly,

"All you have to do is say yes."

I hope you enjoyed the snippet...check out the rest on the 5 October over at Dreamspinner Press

And don't forget to do the clicky clicky dance to check out all the fabulous entrants for this week's OFFICIAL SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

SAUCY SATURDAY!!

ENJOY!

FREE READ - IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME

As they loaded him in the back of the cruiser, bare-chested and only clad in his jeans, Milo bit down on his lower lip to try and distract him from the gaping hole in his heart.  One single sentence echoed around his head like a religious mantra..."It should've been me."

He settled against the cold leather of the seat and felt the metal of the cuffs press into his lower back where they'd secured his hands behind him.  Ignoring the two cops that climbed into the front, he turned his head and gazed out of the window with unseeing eyes, his mind retracing the steps that had led him here.

The moment he'd laid eyes on Clay, he'd known he would never look at another man for the rest of his life.  Knew that he'd found "the one" and, to his utter amazement, Clay felt the same way.  It was just a shame that Clay's father didn't.  Hank Farnsworth was a grade A son-of-a-bitch, like his daddy before him and his daddy's daddy before that...and everyone in town knew that, except Milo.  But then Milo had been in town less than 48 hours, but it didn't take most of the local bar long to advise him that staring that way at Clay Farnsworth, was not a good idea.

Somehow, Milo didn't care.  He'd had his fare share of experience with grade A sons-a-bitches and he wasn't scared by Hank Farnsworth's reputation.  In fact he wasn't scared of anything...apart from leaving this piss ant town without Clay.  So he'd ignored everyone's warnings and sage advice and he'd approached the tall, blond haired God at the end of the bar, they eyes never leaving each other from then on...until this morning.

They'd left Moons Hollow forty-six hours ago, leaving in the dead of night and heading for God knows where, it didn't matter--as long as they were together.  Pitching up in a small motel in an equally small town a day's drive away, they'd collapsed on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, grabbing fingers and searching mouths.  Every other thought but each other driven from their minds.

Then this morning, Clay had insisted going to the store while he stayed in bed.  The idiot had some kind of romantic notion that he wanted to make Milo breakfast, even if it would only be cold ready made pancakes and luke warm coffee.  He'd decided that they were going to celebrate the first morning of their new life together.  Thinking about it now, Milo had had an uneasy feeling in his belly, but Clay had pouted and kissed him and blown him, until he agreed with a groan and the beautiful blue eyes twinkled at Milo as Clay closed the door behind him.

Of course, they didn't know then that the great Hank Farnsworth had every cop he could find on their tail.  He'd spun them some story about how Clay and he had stolen money and guns from the house and fled the scene.  Milo gleaned that much from the bellowed instructions from the officers who had burst into the motel room and hauled him from the bed; letting him throw on some jeans before cuffing him and throwing him into the cruiser.

They'd been full of bravado about how his "accomplice" had been killed by the Sheriff trying to escape when he was apprehended at the convenience store down the street.  How Clay had screamed when the bullets pierced his body, moaning in a pool of his own blood before he finally shut up.

As the cruiser pulled out into the sparce traffic down the main street of the town, Milo wondered if Hank Farnsworth was pleased that both of the thieves had been apprehended and one of them had been killed.  He wondered whether the hole in Hank's heart would be as big as the one in his, when the son-of-a-bitch found out that it was his own son, and not Milo, that lay on the ground covered in a sheet.  And then he wondered if the echo would ever stop:

It should've been me.

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY - THE PINK PANTS

 FLASH FICTION FRIDAY

Hello my pretties and welcome to Flash Fiction, Friday where you will find one hundred words per week based upon a picture chosen at random by either myself or my other cohorts in this marvellous adventure.  Some may be turned into a continuing play, so make sure you follow the links both within the one hundred words and at the bottom of this post to see what delights await you.  This week's inspiration was chosen by Patricia Logan, the minx...

Have you ever regretted doing something?  You know, the kind of thing that, as you’re doing it, makes you think…this is gonna bite me in the ass?  That’s how I ended up here--here being the bed I share with Johnny. Hands tied to the iron bedstead, wearing baby pink briefs that Johnny insisted were so hot he wanted to rip them off me, with his teeth. 

But he’s not here.  I’m alone.  He left me here.  Which brings me to the moral of our story.  If you’re going to scratch someone’s Desperate Housewives box set…replace it before they find out…

Joining me today are a bevy of other beauties and three gorgeous guys who are the fantastically talented authors who have contributed to this week’s Friday Flash Fiction: Bonni Sansom, Katie Harper, Lani Rhea, Muffy Wilson, J P Archer,  Rhea Archer, Patricia Logan,  Chris Quinton, Sara York, Chris Power, Heaven Leigh Eldeen, Venus Cahill, Gemma Parkes, Havan Fellows, Betty Carlton, Benjamin Russell, Lee Brazil, Cyril J Michael.  Please click on their names and stop by their blogs to read five very different interpretations of the same picture.

In addition, I want to extend my heart-felt thanks to my friend, Johnny Miles a fantastic fellow author for being this week’s guest star in my FFF fantasy.  Please click on his name within the one hundred to stop by their pages and find out what kind of mischief he’s been getting into. 

Thank you for supporting Friday Flash Fiction.

See you next week! 

FREE READ - BABY...IT'S HOT INSIDE

Baby....It’s Hot In Here

They were being burgled.  It was the only explanation for it.  Nick heard another bang come from downstairs, followed by Mack’s loud bark and he felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest.  That’s my boy, eat the fucker, Mack! He debated briefly whether he should investigate, or if he should make Oliver do it.  Hey, just because he was bigger, didn’t automatically mean he was braver...where was that cast in stone?
Reaching out a hand to shake Oliver’s shoulder and touching fresh air, Nick frowned.  Shit! He forgot.  Oliver was sleeping in the spare room tonight.  SoCal had been in the throes of a stifling heat wave for the last two weeks.  They were on hiatus from the show where Nick was the lead and Oliver was the assistant director, and they’d spent days lazing by the pool – which they hadn’t got nearly as much use out of as Nick insisted they’d put it in -- soaking up the rays and almost forgetting that they weren’t by the community pool in their villa in Marbella.  At first. 
Now, it had gone from stifling, to Nick surfing the net for directions on how to do a rain dance.  It had even gotten so hot that Oliver had relocated to the guest room downstairs, unable to bear being in the same bed as him.  The external heat mixed with the internal heat that Nick radiated had been Oliver’s undoing.  So it was with his best pouty lip and heartfelt sigh that Oliver had leaned down, kissed Nick goodnight and padded downstairs, refusing to succumb to Nick’s best kicked puppy look as he left the room.
Nick had tossed and turned for what seemed like forever, but he was, of course, too manly to admit that that was because Oliver wasn’t beside him, not actually because of the heat.  Eventually he had drifted off, until he had just been woken a few moments ago by something...spending a few moments in that sleepy plane of “Why the fuck am I awake?” before he heard a bang and a muffled expletive coming from the living-room.  “Fantastic,” he muttered. “How can Oliver still be asleep? I bet he’s dreaming about fluffy bunnies while the love of his life gets murdered by Biff the big butch burglar.” 
Throwing back the covers and getting out of bed, Nick reached for the boxers he had discarded earlier in the vein hope of circulating more air, and pulled them on.  He padded as quietly as he could out onto the landing, peering over the banister and down the stairs.  All he could see was darkness and the odd shadow in the shaft of moonlight that shone through the window at the top of the front door.  Fuck it! That meant he had to go get himself killed.  Maybe he had misheard the bang, it was probably just Mack knocking something over and then he heard the patio door in the kitchen creak as it was opened. 
Oliver! Oliver was asleep and whoever was breaking in would find him, asleep and vulnerable down there!  Nick forgot that he was a big sissy for five seconds and pounded down the stairs, a resounding growl of menace, or what he hoped sounded like menace, emanating from deep within his chest.  If taking down the burglar meant getting killed so Oliver could be saved – so be it!
Unfortunately for Nick, the only thing he took down was Mack, who was lying in the middle of the hall.  Mack yelped, so did Nick and ended up sprawled on his stomach on the polished oak of the hall floor, gasping for air.  He froze, waiting for the burglar to come and see what the commotion was but there was nothing.  Pushing himself to his feet, Nick took a deep breath and rubbed at his stomach, tip-toeing into the empty living-room and on through into the kitchen.  In the kitchen he found nothing, apart from a very soft welcoming breeze blowing through the open patio door—that and the sound of splashing. 
Stepping out onto the decking, Nick padded down the steps toward the pool.  “Oliver?” he said, his voice sounding like a loud haler to his ears in the still of the night.  “Is that you?”
The figure floating on its back in the clear water, making little waves with its hands, straightened and swam slowly to the side, stopping in front of Nick.  Oliver wiped his eyes and shook his head, spraying Nick’s bare feet with droplets of chlorine scented water.
“Of course it’s me, who did you think it was?” he said, keeping his voice low.  Oliver raised his eyebrows when he was met with silence, and tilted his head questioningly.  “You thought I was a burglar, didn’t you.”  It was a statement.
Nick shook his head and huffed a not very convincing derisive laugh.  “Don’t be stupid...I knew it was you.”
Oliver chuckled softly.  “Yeah, you thought I was a burglar.  Didn’t know there was much of a market for used pool water.”
“Shut up,” Nick mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly, glad it was dark and that Oliver couldn’t see him blush.  “What are you doing out here?  And don’t say swimming, asshat.”
“It’s too damn hot.  I couldn’t sleep.  I thought of getting in the shower downstairs but was worried that the sound might wake you, so I decided to come out here.”  Oliver rested his arms on the side of the pool and put his chin on his hands.  “Sorry I woke you anyway.  I was being quiet until Mack tripped me up.”
“S’okay, I wasn’t sleeping that well either.”  Nick flinched when one of Oliver’s wet hands closed over his ankle.  “What are you doing?” he hissed, looking down at his leg.
“Well...since you’re awake and extremely hot...” Oliver waggled his eyebrows at Nick in the glow from the underwater pool lights.  “Why don’t you come keep me company?”
“You’re kidding me, right?  Ol, if it’s too hot to sleep, it’s sure as hell too hot for sex,” Nick replied, trying to shake Oliver’s hand off his ankle. 
Oliver shook his head and pulled hard on Nick’s ankle while it was raised in the air, trying to dislodge his hand.  He grinned as Nick toppled, lost his balance and splashed into the water beside him.  Waiting while Nick coughed and spluttered, wiped the water from his face and pushed his hair from his eyes, Oliver paddled over to him and slid his hands over his boyfriend’s shoulders and hooked a muscled calf around an even more muscled thigh.
“It’s not too hot in here,” he drawled, easing Nick to the edge of the pool and bending his head to latch his lips to the fluttering pulse at the base of Nick’s throat.
“You suck, dude,” Nick hissed, his eyes fluttering shut as Oliver’s lips worked the sensitive skin of his neck.  He couldn’t contain the moan that fell from his lips when Oliver began to lick at the drops of water clinging to his collarbone. 
“Eventually,” Oliver murmured.  “I want to taste the rest of you first.”  The heavy Virginian edge to Oliver’s voice indicated how turned on he was.  No-one had ever had the effect on him that Nick had.  The need to taste, mark, own and love, all at the same time. 
“What about Mrs. Proud,” Nick moaned, referring to their neighbor, whose bedroom had a direct view of their pool.
“She’s real nice, but not my type, I’d much rather fuck you,” Oliver deadpanned, continuing to kiss and lick across Nick’s collar bone and up the other side of his tanned throat.
“Very funny,” Nick retorted, tilting his head to allow Oliver better access.
“Nick...” darkened green eyes looked into blown hazel.
“Yeah?”
“Can you shut up now?”
“Uh-Huh...”
Oliver’s plump lips nipped at Nick’s in soft, teasing kisses, pulling Nick’s lower lip in between his white teeth and swiping his tongue over the sensitive flesh.  He opened his eyes a fraction while he teased Nick, reveling in the way that the big man quivered at his touch.  Their slightest movement was making the water around them lap gently, sliding over their hot skin and creating the most delicious buffer.   All the while he was kissing Nick, Oliver was edging him into shallower water, so that their feet were touching the bottom of the pool. 
“God, Olly,” Nick moaned against Oliver’s mouth, his hands moving up to cup Oliver’s face as he took control of the kiss and ravaged Oliver’s lips, sliding his tongue against Oliver’s and drawing a moan from him.  Breaking the kiss, Nick gripped Oliver’s waist and turned him in the water so that Oliver’s back was now against the tiled wall.  “Fuck,” he gasped breaking the kiss and sliding his hands down over Oliver’s ass and lifting him in the water, pulling Oliver’s legs loosely around his waist.  Nick peeled his boxers off quickly and repositioned Oliver’s legs. 
Arching his back, Oliver almost bit through his lip when Nick ran his fingers down the crack of his ass and opened his cheeks, moving Oliver slowly so that the water lapped at his hole.  “Fuck, Nick,” he hissed when he felt Nick’s fingers join the water in the gentle exploration of his entrance, his hands gripping at Nick’s shoulders.
“You like that?” Nick smiled, kiss-biting along Oliver’s jaw.
“Fuck, yeah...love it when you touch me,” Oliver turned his head to capture Nick’s lips with his own and panted into Nick’s mouth when he felt one finger breach him slowly, the water easing the way. 
“Not as much as I love touching you,” Nick said huskily, his tongue licking at Oliver’s in tiny jabs, sparks of pleasure flowing between them.  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, pulling back to look into Oliver’s face, lit by the moon and the hazy pool lights.  “Still can’t believe you’re mine...” he felt the muscle give around his finger and pulled out slowly, ignoring Oliver’s whimper of complaint and coming back with two.  “Still can’t believe I get to kiss you...touch you...love you.”
“Believe it, baby,” Oliver groaned, trailing his fingers down Nick’s side and across the muscled stomach to curl around the thick, hard shaft of Nick’s cock.  He smiled at Nick’s cut off yell when he stroked Nick from base to tip, his palm circling the sensitive head.  “I’m all yours and this...” he squeezed Nick’s hardness and stroked him again.  “This is all mine.”
Nick grinned widely, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks when Oliver began to jerk him in earnest beneath the water.  “You bet your ass it is.”
“Oh, my ass would lay money on it,” Oliver retorted, his grip on Nick’s shoulders tightening as he began to fuck himself on Nick’s thrusting fingers.  He complained when Nick pulled his fingers free and grabbed hold of Oliver’s hands.  “What?”
“Ssssh,” Nick soothed, lifting Oliver’s hands and placing them on the side of the pool.  “You may want to hang on for this part...” he rasped, all trace of LA gone and leaving pure yellow rose.  He waited for Oliver to grip the side and then moved back slightly, positioning himself between Oliver’s thighs.  He pushed in slowly, his eyes closing and his breath panting through his parted lips as the head of his cock slid into his lover.  “Fuck,” he moaned, sliding in further in slow, easy pushes, the water making Oliver feel almost weightless.  “Always so tight for me.  Feels so good, baby.”
Oliver’s chin dropped down onto his chest and his mouth hung open, gulping in great breaths of air.  He loved being this connected to Nick, so close that he didn’t know when he ended and Nick began.  Loved the way Nick filled him, made him feel complete.   Lifting his head, Oliver’s glazed green eyes locked with hazel.  “You have no idea how fucking good you feel inside me,” he whispered, catching Nick’s lips in a deep, breath stealing, kiss.  “I need...I need,” he murmured, his thighs tightening around Nick’s waist.
“What do you need?” Nick husked, sucking a bruise into Oliver’s throat.  “Tell me what you want, baby.”  Nick urged him on.  He loved it when Oliver begged him for it, all breathy moans and whispered gasps.
“You...” Oliver keened when Nick moved his hips in a small figure eight, the head of his cock brushing teasingly across Oliver’s prostate, lighting sparks behind his eyelids.  “Fuck....Nick...fuck me...please...want you to fuck me.”
Nick smiled against Oliver’s skin, the sound of Oliver, all strung out and needy making the heat rage in his belly.  He pulled out slowly and then slammed back in hard and fast, cries falling not only from Oliver’s lips, but his own. 
Setting up a punishing rhythm, Nick brought him to the brink so many times that Oliver lost count.  His fingers gripped tighter and tighter to the side as he felt his orgasm start to tingle in his spine and reach out to all his nerve endings, lighting them up.  All that could be heard on the night air was moans and gasps and the lapping of the water against the edge of the pool, getting faster and faster as the need for release grew.
“So close,” Oliver whimpered, his cock hard and aching against his stomach, not even having been touched by Nick’s hand, just engorged with desire by the relentless pounding of Nick’s hard cock in this dark wet heat, scraping ruthlessly against his prostate on almost every stroke.  “Right there...Jesus fuck, Nick...I’m coming...”
“Let it go, baby,” Nick hissed, his head thrown back, his hands moving down to grip behind Oliver’s knees.  “Do it...come on...wanna hear you...”
“Aaaaahhh,” Oliver’s long drawn out cry echoed in the darkness as he came hard in the water, hot spurts pulsing from him, his knuckles white on the side of the pool he was gripping so hard to the tile. 
Nick slammed hard into Oliver, his hips jerking when he felt Oliver’s ass clamp down on his pulsing cock, dragging his orgasm from him.  “Shit, shit, shit,” he moaned over and over, his hips moving until he was spent, his head resting in the curve of Oliver’s neck.  Nick sighed heavily when he felt Oliver’s arms slide around his shoulders and hold him tightly, his cock still inside and pulsing gently in the aftershocks of his orgasm.  He gulped in great mouthfuls of air and pressed his lips to Oliver’s skin while he waited for his heart to slow back down to its post-coital rate.  Reaching down to gently lift Oliver, Nick pulled out and crowded back into Oliver’s arms.
Oliver lowered his legs slowly and stood up in the water.  They felt a little wobbly, but if he held on to Nick, he was okay, he could stand up – he just wasn’t sure he could walk.  “Huh...” was about all he could come up with.
“Uh-huh,” was Nick’s equally coherent reply.  They exchanged slow kisses until their breathing had returned to normal and then they climbed out of the pool and padded back into the house, going into the en suite off Oliver’s old bedroom for towels to dry themselves off with.   Oliver smiled fondly when Nick flopped down onto the bed beside him.  He didn’t say a word, just shuffled his ass backwards until it fitted into the cradle of Nick’s hips, feeling Nick’s cock nestled snugly against his crack.
“What?” Nick yawned, when he felt Oliver’s chuckle vibrate against the hand he had pressed to Oliver’s chest.
“You thought I was a burglar,” Oliver snorted.
“Asshat...” Nick murmured, closing his eyes and rubbing his face on Oliver’s shoulder.  It wasn’t long before both men were asleep...too spent for the heat to be an issue.

THE END