Wednesday, February 26, 2025

πŸ’»Blogger ReviewπŸ’»: The Killer Who Kept Me by Davidson King



Summary:

Nothing about Em’s life is simple. He’s treated worse than anyone in the house, punished for every minor infraction, and has zero chance of ever escaping his current situation. He dreams that someday he’ll be free of this nightmare and finally find someone who will want to keep him.

That dream may come true sooner than he thinks.

Saros Tancredi is the most dangerous and powerful man in all of Eastbury. The loyalty he has to his family is unparalleled to anything else. When he wants something, he gets it. He rarely worries and lives without fear. All of that changes one night when he’s faced with his own mortality. When it seems like it will all end, out of nowhere, a stranger jumps in and saves his life.

Saros and Em live separate lives in the underworld. Saros is the most compelling man Em has ever known. Em is the savior Saros never knew he needed. When secrets long buried emerge in the midst of a current war, they threaten to tear away any chance the two men have of finding a happy life together.

One thing Saros and Em know for sure—they’re not going down without a fight.




I can't begin to express how much I needed this book right now. I'm going to take a few minutes to be a bit personal but I think it helps me express my feelings on the story while sticking to my spoil-free zone reviewing.  With my mother's passing in January my reading mojo nosedived even worse than in 2020 with the pandemic so when I started Davidson King's The Killer Who Kept Me, I knew it would take longer than my typical timeframe.  I'll be honest, I read the first chapter and as much as I was intrigued and excited to find out what level of dangerous, bordering on sadistic, mayhem the author had in store, it took me 36 hours before I got back to chapter 2 and probably another 24 before chapter 3.  Now that had nothing to do with the book or the author but all me.

BUT . . . 

When I hit chapter 4, I was having a hard day as it was 6 weeks since my mother's passing so everything brought me to tears but there was something about that chapter that kept me reading and before I knew it I was several chapters in.  Not only had I read more than one chapter of anything at a time for the first time in over 3 weeks, I realized I hadn't teared up , Davidson King had done the one thing that normally only Star Wars has ever been able to do: distract me enough to completely shut everything out and feel a little stronger coming out the other side.  For that I will forever be grateful, Davidson King, thank you.

Now I'll freely admit it still took another 48 hours before I finished the book but oh what a story.  Em(short for November which is absolutely lovely name) and Saros are complete opposites both in nature and nurture.  Em has been mistreated(to put it mildly) his whole life and Saros has family(both blood and found) that love and support him.  First appearances they shouldn't work but they do, it sounds cliche but they complete each other.  You just want to wrap Em up in dangerous levels of bubblewrap and then a soul-crushing Mama Bear hug to keep him safe but I think Saros might do a better jobπŸ˜‰.  The whole cast of characters is just so perfect, from cute and adorable Maeve to nasty and evil Ramsey, each one plays a part to bring this tale together.

I'm going to end here so I don't reveal too much and spoil any of the dangerous and fun mayhem within the covers of The Killer Who Kept Me.  Just so you know, you won't be bored.  Even if you have a good inkling of what might be down the road for the characters, it's the journey down said road that is deliciously heart-pounding.

This author has a unique talent, she can create such danger, mayhem,  retribution, and revenge and still manages to tell a lovely romance full of heart and strength.  I've said it before and I'll say it again(and probably many more times for years to comeπŸ˜‰) this is an author that is a true storyteller, a Seanachaidh(Scotland & Ireland), a Dastango(India), a Griot(West Africa), a Skald(Vikings of Norway and Iceland) just to name a few titles around the world.  If you've never partook in her creative genius then this is a perfect place to start as it has all the elements that will pull you in and keep you hooked.

RATING:




CHAPTER ONE
“Power doesn’t corrupt people; people corrupt power.”
~ William Gaddis

Saros
It was a beautiful November morning. The sun was out, the air was crisp, my coffee was perfect, and most of all, I was enjoying it in silence. That was, until a door slamming from somewhere in my estate echoed off the walls, followed by stomping feet…That must be Cosmo.

I sighed and readied myself.

Three, two, one.

“Were you even going to tell me you were meeting Frazee tonight at The Sky?”

“Good morning, Cosmo. How are you this morning?”

He rolled his eyes and shot me a strained smile. “Morning, Boss. I’m actually irritated this fine fucking morning, if you must know.”

In this situation, if someone were to walk in on us, they’d likely think it was Cosmo who was the head of this family, feared by many, more powerful than anyone that sat behind the desk in a house made of white. But they’d be wrong. Cosmo was my second in command and my brother-in-law. The fact that he was married to my sister was why he wasn’t choking on his own tongue right about now…and he knew it.

“I’m sorry you’re upset—do sit and have some coffee.” I narrowed my gaze and sneered. “I insist.”

Cosmo sat across from me and poured himself coffee from the carafe. I let him have a moment to collect himself before I spoke once more.

“When you married my sister, you became my brother. It gives you more leeway than anyone else, but if you storm into my house like that again, making a scene, you’ll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?”

Cosmo swallowed loudly and placed the mug on the table. “My apologies; you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. What if I had someone here? I’d have had to explain to Dafni why you had two black eyes and then when she found out the reason, she’d break your nose.”

Dafni wasn’t violent, but she was tough. She understood this life and how everything we said and did mattered. I loved Cosmo, trusted him like no other, and I knew Dafni did too. So if he forced my hand, she’d know her husband had fucked up.

“It won’t happen again.”

“I know.”

We sat in silence for a beat, and after a breath, Cosmo started over. “Are you going to The Sky tonight to meet Frazee?”

“I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I huffed. “Because you have to be at your daughter’s recital tonight. Marco is going with me.”

“This is Frazee, Saros. You can’t just take Marco. He’s a snake.”

I rose from my seat and buttoned my jacket. “We’re all snakes, Cosmo. Frazee isn’t going to try anything seven hundred feet from the ground, in a public place. Marco will be just fine.”

“I’m going.”

I pointed my finger at him. “You’re in more danger if you miss Maeve’s recital.”

“Saros, she’s three. It’s not even going to be dancing—more like little piglets jumping in a circle, smashing into each other. She won’t remember if I’m there or not.”

“Idiot.” I grinned. “Dafni will know, and she’ll serve your balls to you if you’re not there. I’ll be fine. Video the dance for me…but only my niece. I don’t give a shit about all the other little fucklings.”

“Fine, but I’m talking to Marco before you go.”

I waved him away. “Whatever you want.”

He mumbled something under his breath, but I was already out of the room and on my way to the study for a phone call.


The Sky was one of the most luxurious, expensive, and elite restaurants in all of Eastbury. The owner was a friend…well, maybe friend was pushing it. He was a man who’d had a dream and zero money. He’d pitched the idea of The Sky to me, and I’d loved it, loaned him the money, and because of that I was able to eat there whenever I wanted at no cost. Something Fernando wasn’t completely on board with. As the years went by, he’d become quite rich and the bright-eyed man full of hope and wonder had become a pretentious snob. Not to me, never to me, but it was sad to see someone go from beautiful to ugly.

“Mr. Tancredi.” I peered up and saw a grinning Frazee. Technically Barrett Frazee, but for as long as anyone had known the man, he’d simply gone by his last name.

“Frazee, good to see you.” I stood, we embraced, and we settled in.

Marco was near the bar, and I could see one of Frazee’s men close by.

“Shall we get to the business portion of this meeting, or order first?”

I gestured toward the server. “Let’s get food squared away.”

I ordered beef Wellington, lightly seasoned vegetables, and mashed potatoes. I regarded Frazee as he placed his order.

He was forty; his blond hair reached his shoulders and was streaked with gray. He kept himself fit, but the lines on his face weren’t because he smiled a lot. His blue eyes were dim, and the hard life he’d led made many believe he was older than he appeared. He dressed in expensive suits but I knew what he had in the bank didn’t even come close to my fortune.

Frazee and I couldn’t look more different. I was thirty-two, I didn’t have many lines on my face, and the ones I did were definitely from smiling. My hair was black, cut, and styled at all times. My blues eyes were bright because I saw a future that would always bend to my will, and I didn’t let anything enfeeble me.

The server nodded and left us to our beverages. “Let’s cut to the chase, Frazee. You want more territory, money, and power.”

Frazee snorted into his whiskey. “Don’t we all?”

“No. I have all those things already. I don’t call meetings asking for more.”

The other man sat back, the briefest glare crossing his face before he righted it. “You just go and take it.”

I lifted a shoulder. “If I have to. Otherwise, I like to negotiate.”

“Which demands a meeting.”

I snickered ominously and swallowed the rest of my bourbon. “Negotiations happen when the other party wants something from me, and I only agree if they have something I want.”

“And what do I have that you want, Saros?”

Using my first name would be seen as disrespectful if Frazee’s opinion mattered, but it didn’t. He couldn’t bother me because I wouldn’t let him.

“I want accessibility to PTA.”

Frazee’s brows furrowed. “Pell Tennor Airport? But you have other airports.”

I did. But PTA was important. “PTA is a smaller airport, less eyes on it, and as of three months ago started letting flights in from Brazil. A destination I do a lot of business with.”

“I thought you used the ports as well.”

I nodded. “I do.”

Frazee huffed. “PTA is the only area you don’t own, and you want it.”

“I won’t take it from you, Frazee, I just want access to it whenever I require it.”

“I suspected there was something you wanted, otherwise you’d have never agreed to this meeting.”

I beamed at the man. “Now you’re getting it.”

The server arrived and placed our food in front of us and asked if we needed refills, which we accepted. Once she left to get our drinks, Frazee continued.

“There are three abandoned warehouses in Eastbury. You aren’t using them—no one is. I want them.”

“Warehouses are clichΓ©d, Frazee. Not to mention, suspicious as fuck. It’s why no one uses them. They’re watched.”

“If you don’t want them, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

I thought about it as the server brought our beverages. I didn’t answer right away, savoring my delicious meal. Frazee didn’t push me to answer, either.

“What are you using them for?”

He wiped his mouth and met my gaze. “We don’t ask about each other’s businesses.”

I shrugged. “It’s in my territory, and there are certain things I don’t allow.”

“I know what you allow and don’t in your territory; it’s nothing like that. But sharing my business dealings with you isn’t happening.”

I could just tell him no, but I wanted access to PTA and didn’t feel much like going to war over the use of it.

“I’ll give the buildings to you, but if I find out you’re breaking my territory rules, this won’t end well for you, Frazee.”

“And you’ll have access to PTA whenever you need.”

“Deal.”

We finished our meals and spent the rest of the time being cordial, asking about our families…you know, normal things.

One of the reasons I liked doing business at The Sky was that there were no wiretaps. The restaurant was swept every hour. If Fernando got word they’d tapped the place with a warrant, he’d tell me. It was also too high for anyone to listen in unless they hovered with a helicopter, and that would be very noticeable. I had a deal with Fernando: I wouldn’t take a cut after the loan was paid off and he’d keep The Sky however he wanted, and I’d never interfere with the stipulation that my words were safe here.

“Thanks for dinner.” Frazee shook my hand as we stood from the table.

“My pleasure. I’ll get those papers over to you by the end of the week.”

“Good doing business with you, Mr. Tancredi.”

Now I was Mr. Tancredi again. “Same.”

I waited until Frazee had taken the elevator down before approaching Marco. “Tell Benny to bring the car around.”

Marco texted, and we took the elevator to the bottom. Once we got out, I went the opposite direction from the main entrance. I didn’t like being seen unless there was a reason. So, I used the back exit.

Marco and I stepped outside, and the door had just closed when a shot rang out. A second later, Marco fell to the pavement.


Davidson King
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.


FACEBOOK  /  BLUE SKY  /  WEBSITE
INSTAGRAM  /  AUDIBLE  /  LINKTREE
BOOKBUB  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com





Monday, February 24, 2025

🎬🎭Monday's Mysterious Mayhem🎭🎬: Murder at Pirate's Cove by Josh Lanyon



Summary:
Secrets and Scrabble #1
Ellery Page, aspiring screenwriter, Scrabble champion and guy-with-worst-luck-in-the-world-when-it-comes-to-dating, is ready to make a change. So when he learns he's inherited both a failing bookstore and a falling-down mansion in the quaint seaside village of Pirate's Cove on Buck Island, Rhode Island, it's full steam ahead!

Sure enough, the village is charming, its residents amusingly eccentric, and widowed police chief Jack Carson is decidedly yummy (though probably as straight as he is stern). However, the bookstore is failing, the mansion is falling down, and there's that little drawback of finding rival bookseller--and head of the unwelcoming-committee--Trevor Maples dead during the annual Buccaneer Days celebration.

Still, it could be worse. And once Police Chief Carson learns Trevor was killed with the cutlass hanging over the door of Ellery's bookstore, it is.

**This story contains NO on-screen sex or violence.

Original Review July 2021:
I want to start by commenting on a couple of points.
1. I love a good cozy mystery, though to be completely honest, I never see them as "cozy" just mystery.
2. I love the name Ellery Page.  I don't know if it was intentional on the author's part by possibly making it a nod to the Ellery Queen Mysteries, but as a lover & collector of old radio shows and films, I thought of it right away.
3. In the same fashion as 2, I loved that the cop's name is Jack Carson.  Again I don't know if it was intentional but I immediately pictured the comedic actor Jack Carson of the 40s and 50s. From physicality to downplayed wit, it made perfect casting in my brain.
4. The idea that Ellery inherits from his great great great aunt was a nice twist.  Personally I was always closer to my great aunts(only one great not 3πŸ˜‰) than my actual aunt, but great-anythings tend to get overlooked or not used in fiction. Extra kudos for that.

Back to Murder at Pirate's Cove.  

I won't say much about the mystery itself but I'll admit the "who done it?" crossed my mind early-ish in the investigation.  Having said that, Josh Lanyon is brilliant when it comes to twists and turns that keep me on my toes so I was never 100% sure until the reveal.

The connection between the characters, and I don't just mean Ellery and Jack, is wonderful.  Small town gossips, small town reporting, small town politics, and small town cops is all spot on.  I can't speak for living in a touristy town but I can attest to small town atmosphere and everything Lanyon brings to the story definitely hits the nail on the head.

I guess I can't say too much more without leaking some spoilers and even though this is more than a year old release, I'm sure there are plenty who like me just got around to reading it.  Normally I gobble everything by Josh Lanyon instantly but 2020 really screwed with my reading mojo so I just got around to Secrets & Scrabbles.  I love the combination of mystery, wit, friendships, mayhem, possible romance and it's that blending that makes Murder at Pirate's Cove such a delightfully fun read.

RATING:





Prologue
The damp night air was bracingly cold and, as always, suffused with the distinct ocean smell. Supposedly that seaside scent came from bacteria digesting dead phytoplankton. Ellery had picked that tidbit up that afternoon from a Tripp Ellis thriller.

The streets were quiet and strangely deserted as he walked back from the pub to the bookstore. His car—well, Great-great-great-aunt Eudora’s car, if someone wanted to get technical—was still in the parking lot. Captain’s Seat, Great-great-great-aunt Eudora’s decrepit mansion, was about a fifteen-minute drive from the village. Walking distance for someone who hadn’t been on his feet all day and didn’t mind a stroll down a pitch-black country road. None of which described Ellery.

His thoughts were preoccupied as he turned the corner onto the narrow brick street that held the little bookshop that had brought him to Pirate’s Cove in the first place.

The tall Victorian buildings cast deep shadows. Most of the storefronts were dark or illuminated only by the faint glow of emergency lights, so he was startled to see the bright yellow oblongs stretching from the tall windows of the Crow’s Nest across the gray pavement.

That’s weird.

He was positive he had locked the place up after shutting all the lights off. A larger than usual electricity bill was the last thing he wanted.

He sped up, his footsteps echoing down the silent street as he hurried toward the Crow’s Nest. He grabbed the doorknob, guiltily recalling that the first words Chief Carson had ever spoken to him concerned replacing the sticky old lock with a new deadbolt. His dismay ratcheted up another notch as the door swung open on well-oiled hinges.

Oh no.

No way had he forgotten to lock up. He had lived in New York most of his life, for heaven’s sake. Locking doors was second nature to him. Sure, Pirate’s Cove was a small town, but all you had to do was flip through a couple of titles in the cozy-mystery section to know that evil lurked in the cutest, quaintest corners of the universe.

“Hello?” he called.

His uneasy gaze fell on the thing lying just a few feet inside the shop. A purple-plumed green tricorn hat. He looked past the hat, and his breath caught. His heart shuddered to a stop.

“No,” he whispered. “No way…”

At first glance there appeared to be a drunken pirate passed out on the floor of the Crow’s Nest. His disbelieving eyes took in the glossy boots, black velvet breeches, long, plum-colored coat and gold-trimmed vest, the scarlet lace jabot…

Scarlet.

Because the lacy folds were soaked in blood. The same blood slowly spreading around the motionless—terrifyingly motionless—form sprawled on newly sanded hardwood floors.

He put a hand out to steady himself—except there was nothing to grab—so he stumbled forward, landing on his knees beside the body. He instinctively reached to check for… But there was no need. The eerie stillness of the man’s chest, the glassy stare, the gray and bloodless face… Trevor Maples was dead. Tiny, twin, horror-stricken reflections of himself in those sightless blue eyes.

He drew back, climbed clumsily to his feet, and staggered out the open door to the uncannily silent street.

“Help!” he cried. “Help! Murder!”

One by one, the street’s lamps turned on as residents in the apartments above the shops surrounding the Crow’s Nest woke to the cries of death and disaster. The windows of normally sleepy little Pirate’s Cove lit up like the stars winking overhead.



Saturday Series Spotlight
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4



Josh Lanyon
Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."

Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).

The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.

Josh is married and they live in Southern California.


FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE
BLOG  /  NEWSLETTER  /  KOBO
INSTAGRAM  /  TUMBLR  /  PATREON  /  B&N
CHIRP  /  SMASHWORDS  /  iTUNES  /  BOOKBUB
CARINA  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: josh.lanyon@sbcglobal.net



Murder at Pirate's Cove #1



Sunday, February 23, 2025

🎭Week at a Glance🎭: 2/17/25 - 2/23/25




















Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: What He Hides by EM Denning




Summary:
Desires #3
Everett Butcher is a successful vlogger with a secret. By day, he’s The Crock Cock, the internet’s hottest, gayest, and most naked chef. By night, he’s ConcealedandCuffed, a secret submissive who bends to the random whims that hit his inbox. To protect his identity and his career, Everett is careful to never show his face and to never play with the same guy twice. But Everett is tired of online submission. It only reminds him he has no one. When Puck1730 messages him, his world flips upside down.

Xavier Jeffries knows he’s playing a dangerous game, but when he discovered his big brother’s best friend’s secret submissive blog, his inner Dom reared his head and he knew he had to have him. He’s been in love with Everett for years and he feels like it’s now or never. But will Everett forgive him for the dubious way he initiated a relationship?

As the big, in person, reveal looms on the horizon, both men are on edge. Will their online playtime translate into real life chemistry and will Everett forgive Xavier when he discovers it was him the whole time?

Please note, this book was previously published. The content remains unchanged. If you already own it, it's not necessary to repurchase.




1 
Everett 
Everett Butcher angled the camera so it wouldn’t show anything above his collarbones. He double and triple checked the angle before hitting record. His newest task from…whatever the random username was, told him to strip down, put on the frilly panties the Dom sent him and jack-off on camera. He wanted Everett, or ConcealedAndCuffed as his followers knew him, to come in the panties and send them back. What the random Dom lacked in originality he made up for in sheer perversion. 

The Dom all but begged Everett to show his face. They all did. But that was his first rule. No face shots. He had to be careful. If word got out about his secret submissive blog, he’d risked losing all the people who followed his other blog, The Crock Cock. Sure, he cooked in the nude, well, mostly. He wore an apron and nothing else. The cooking vlog paid the bills. Everett used the submissive blog to explore his kinks in a safe environment. 

He had rules. No faces. No names. No subbing for the same Dom more than once. That one he couldn’t enforce. If someone went to the trouble of making another account each time they made a request of Everett that couldn’t be helped.

Everett slid the ridiculously silky panties up his slender legs. They fit like a dream, except they were very clearly women’s panties. The silky fabric held his dick tight against his body. Everett put his hands on his hips so his pelvis would jut out and show off his package, then he did a little turn. He knew how to work the camera and the Doms loved it when he put on a show. 

All requests, once fulfilled, went up on his channel, but the Dom who submitted the request remained anonymous. Everett got lots of requests similar to this one. They often wanted him to wear specific things. He had a post office box so Doms could send him gifts and props they wanted to see him use. He’d amassed quite the sex toy collection. As for the pink panties, the Dom would have to do without them. Everett had a strict no returns policy. 

Everett swivelled his hips and ran his hands down his smooth torso. He edged toward his crotch, then moved his hands back and cupped his ass cheeks as he turned his back to the camera. People liked it if he drew it out and made them crazy. People pretended to want instant gratification when they wanted to be teased. They wanted what they couldn’t have, and no one was more off limits than Everett. 

Everett turned slowly. He rocked his hips and slid his hands all over his body. He turned to face the camera again and edged his fingers into the silk panties. He stroked his thick cock and pulled it out of the panties. A bead of pre-cum pooled on the end of his cock. Everett swiped at it with his thumb, then brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off. Because the video would have sound, he made sure he moaned. He had to captivate his audience. After he posted a new video, his fans would decide if he did well or not. If he did well, he got a reward, but if they didn’t like it, he got a punishment. Sometimes, Everett thought they punished him for the fun of it and not because they didn’t enjoy the video.

Everett slid one hand into the panties and cupped his smooth balls. His other hand gripped his cock through the fabric and slowly stroked. He moaned and threw his head back even though that bit wouldn’t be caught on the video. He arched his back and pumped faster. His fingers slid past his balls and he gently stroked his perineum. 

The silky fabric rubbed against his shaft. Pre-cum seeped out of his dick and created an impressive wet spot in the pink frilly panties. His fans would eat that up. Everett rubbed his cock with renewed fervour. He let his fingers wander back a little farther, and he gently teased his rim. Everett shoved the panties down a little and moaned as he stroked his cock. He moaned again. Everett loved to be vocal during sex, even sex with himself, and his followers ate it up. 

He stroked his rim and jerked his cock. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He panted as he edged closer to his release. When he came he made a sound, half-whimper, half-moan. It was a desperate sound, in a higher pitch than his moans, but not quite a whine. Everett’s cock twitched, and the first shot of his release arched into the air and splattered against the wood floor. The rest dribbled down his cock and coated his fingers. Everett groaned. He stroked his still hard dick a few times, coating it with his cum. He made a show of tucking his wet cock back into the panties. Then, on a whim, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his sticky release off his fingers. 

The finger licking would remain off camera, so Everett teased them. "Mmm. Tastes good." Everett smoothed his hands down his torso. His fingers fluttered over his stomach, then ran down his bulge. He caressed his now half-hard cock through the silk panties. 

"Thank you, Sir." Everett said. Then he sauntered across the room and stopped the recording. 

Everett shimmied out of the panties and back into his regular clothing. A pair of boxer briefs under his holey, black, skinny jeans and a T-shirt a size too small. At twenty-eight, Everett was technically too old to be considered a twink, but he was still built like one. Five feet eight inches tall, slender form, couldn’t grow more than ten chest hairs at a time, so he shaved them off. But there was no word for aged-out twinks. 

Everett tossed the soiled panties in the garbage, then shoved them down to hide them underneath last night’s take-out boxes. Everett’s phone vibrated in his pocket. His best friend from way back, Andrew, had moved his little brother, Xavier in with him. Everett didn’t remember much about the kid. The last time he’d seen Xavier had been at Christmas six years ago. 

"Hey, Andy, what’s new?" Everett grinned at the sound of Andrew’s exasperated sigh. 

"Don’t call me Andy." 

Everett leaned against the counter. He could practically hear Andrew’s eyes rolling. "I could call you muffin." 

"No. No food names. We’ve been over this. Buzz us in." 

"You know the intercom thingy has a button you can press, and it lets me know you’re there. You don’t have to call." 

"And touch that germy thing. No thanks." 

Everett walked over to the wall phone that connected to the intercom and pressed the button. "There. Now get your lazy ass up here already." Everett ended the call and left his phone on the counter. He retreated to the bathroom where he decided his platinum hair was the perfect combination of stylish, yet messy. He adjusted his leather bracelets. They were leather bondage cuffs, but most people thought it was a fashion statement. 

Everett liked the cuffs. Sure, he might not have a Master or a Sir and the only Doms he subbed for were random, faceless entities he met online, but the cuffs made him feel more himself.

Andrew pounded on the door and Everett hurried over to unlock it and let him in. 

"Hey man, got any of those cookies left?" Andrew grinned at Everett. 

Everett rolled his eyes, but stepped aside so Andrew could come in. "Yeah, they’re in the jar. I swear you only come here for the food." 

"Damn right." Andrew called over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. "I’m a growing boy, I need my cookies." 

Everett laughed. "You’ve been over six feet tall for the past ten years. The only direction you’re going to grow is out if you keep eating the way you do." 

"It’s your fault. You make the food. I eat the food." 

"You ate half a pie last night, dude. Everett is right." 

Everett had almost forgotten Xavier, who waited outside his door. He turned his head to see a kid who was no longer a kid. The guy who stood with his arms crossed over his chest wasn’t the skinny, pimply, fourteen-year-old Everett remembered. He was still as tall as he was then though. Apparently, Andrew received all the height and bulk genes in the family. 

Xavier stood, at most, five feet ten inches. He had a slender frame like Everett. His hair was a light brown with a lot of honey blond highlights. His dark rimmed glasses gave him a sexy geek vibe. 

"Xavier. Long time no see. Come on in." Everett motioned for Xavier to come in as he mentally berated himself for thinking, even briefly, that his best friend’s little brother was hot. But the truth stood in front of him with green eyes, framed with dark glasses and a deep sexy voice that turned Everett’s name into the sexiest sound on the planet. 

"Good to see you too, Everett." 

"Your brother told me you finished culinary school."

"Yeah. I’ve been looking for work since I got here, but no luck so far." 

"I’ll give you the address of a place that’s probably hiring. Craig told me the owner, Steve, is having some staffing issues." Everett brought Xavier to the living room. "Hey, you want some wine? Craig left me a bottle of red that’s to die for." 

Andrew came into the room and passed Everett a glass of wine while he took a swig of the beer Everett kept in his fridge for him. "He’s not old enough." 

Everett watched slashes of scarlet embarrassment appear on Xavier’s cheeks. "Screw you, Andy, I’m legal." 

Andrew snorted. "Doesn’t look old enough." 

"I didn’t plan on letting him get white-girl wasted, Drew. He’s not a kid. He can handle one little glass of wine." 

"Please, Daddy?" Xavier stuck out his bottom lip and batted his eyelashes. And Everett was totally fucked. Xavier looked sweet and innocent and absolutely, deliciously corruptible. 

Everett wanted to kick himself. Why couldn’t Xavier have grown into a brick wall the way his older brother had? If he had, maybe Everett wouldn’t be thinking idiotic things about his perfectly pouty lips. It wasn’t Everett’s fault that even when he had been a twink, he had a thing for other twinks. And now he was a former twink who apparently still liked the fun-sized guys. Guys like Xavier, who were slender and graceful, who weren’t big and imposing and smothering. 

Andrew choked on his beer and pointed a finger at Xavier when he recovered. "Do not call me daddy, dude. That’s fucked up." 

Everett stood. "I’ll get him a glass." He punched Andrew’s arm on the way by. "And don’t look at me like that. One glass of wine won’t kill him. He’s an adult, dude."

"Barely." Andrew scoffed. 

"Fuck you, Drew. I’m not a kid." 

Everett silently agreed with Xavier. He certainly wasn’t a kid anymore and Everett’s traitorous dick had taken note. Glass of wine in hand, and dick hopefully under control, Everett returned to the living room. 

Xavier took the wine and smiled sweetly at Everett. "Thank you." He then shot a look of disgust at Andrew. "At least someone in this room treats me like an adult." 

Andrew shrugged and took another drink of his beer. "You’re almost eight years younger than I am. You’re my baby brother. I get to treat you like a kid all I want." 

Xavier flipped him off, but Andrew only laughed. 

Andrew was a jackass because Xavier wasn’t a kid. Everett was also a jackass because he noticed his best friend’s little brother wasn’t a kid. With any luck, Xavier would get a job soon and they’d hardly ever cross paths. 

Xavier looked at Everett. "I love your vlog, by the way." 

Everett barely managed not to choke on his drink. His cheeks heated until he realized there was no way Xavier meant his ConcealedandCuffed blog. But knowing that Xavier had watched him cook in nothing more than an apron both disturbed and pleased him. "Thanks." 

"Drew says you have a few sponsors in the works." 

Everett nodded. "Nothing is set in stone yet, but it looks promising." 

"Would you ever consider having a guest chef on?" 

Everett made the mistake of looking at Xavier. His pink lips smiled sweetly at Everett. His eyes—they were green, and Everett didn’t remember them being so intense. Xavier looked serious. Everett felt torn. He could offer Xavier a guest spot. It might be fun to cook with someone who had the same passion for food than he did, and his fans would eat it up. But he hesitated because getting naked in a kitchen with your best friend’s little brother seemed as if it might be a line that shouldn’t be crossed. 

"Let me shoot a guest spot, Everett." 

"Okay." Everett wanted to take back his response. It had been a natural reaction to the sudden change in Xavier’s voice. The serious, no nonsense command went straight to Everett’s submissive, and he answered without thinking. 

Xavier grinned. "Good." 

Everett was unequivocally fucked.


Saturday's Series Spotlight
Desires
Part 1  /  Part 2

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf
Desires: New Beginnings



EM Denning
E. M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and animals, and anything cute and fuzzy. She writes romance for the 18+ plus crowd because she's both a hopeless romantic and a dirty old woman.

You can find her on her website, Facebook or on her blog.


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What He Hides #3

Desires Series

Desires: New Beginnings Series