One movie star. One bodyguard. One seductive attraction. One deadly obsession. One chance to have it all. One shot to lose it all.
Henry: Falling for your bodyguard is so cliché. I cringe at myself sometimes, but then I just have to look at him to understand. How can you not fall for a man like that? Heroic, smart, stubborn, funny, sexy … how could I ever have resisted?
Bryan: Falling for your movie star client is incredibly cliché. I have heard of people in my position doing just that and used to scoff at them … but then I got placed as Henry Prince’s bodyguard. Unfortunately, his irresistible charm and undeniably sexy self has claimed me, heart and soul. I have no chance of getting out of this unscathed.
Then just as things begin to get red hot, a stalker from the past escapes with the intent to destroy us both. I won’t let anything bad happen to Henry, but what am I supposed to do when potential danger lurks behind every corner, behind every stranger?
Will our cliché beginning blossom into something more? Or are we destined for the typical Hollywood crash and burn?
Still … after all this time of denying ourselves, it feels weird to think we’re giving in now. As much as I want Bryan, I don’t want him to regret this. I think that could hurt me more than anything if he told me that he wished we never crossed this line.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you.”
He bursts out into laughter again. “You’ve been strutting around me naked for years, you have several times started to masturbate in front of me, you constantly flirt with me, but now you don’t want to pressure me?”
Well, said all at once, out loud, I sort of realize I am a jackass. Maybe I should get Cody to schedule me some more of those sexual harassment classes. Not that I would do any of those stated things with anyone but Bryan. And I only started to do them in the first place because I want the man so damn much that I have been driven crazy over the years.
But I don’t want Bryan to want me because I wore him down.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that … I never wanted you to …”
Bryan stops his pacing and steps into my space, cupping the sides of my face.
Electricity sizzles through my body at the intimate touch, and I practically shake with nerves. I don’t want to fuck this up. It’s too important to me.
“The first time I saw you, I thought you were attractive. And I’ve never thought that about a man before. It was my job to pay attention to you, to notice you, and so maybe that played a part in how much that attraction grew. But I’d still want you, even if you hadn’t teased me with your body for the past few years. I’d still want the Henry who makes me laugh. The Henry who is generous with his time and money. The Henry who thinks coriander is evil but will happily eat a bull’s penis.”
I snort out a laugh at that one. I only did that once on a dare. It actually didn’t taste as gross as I expected.
“I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I’ve denied it because of my position and because I knew how it would end. But now we have nothing to lose.”
I disagree with that. I would say we could have everything to lose. Or, at least, I could.
Jessica lives in Adelaide, South Australia. When she is not writing, you can find her reading, napping or watching excessive amounts of TV. Connect with her on Facebook and Goodreads.
An infamous human trafficker and murderer is hot on his heels, and he has nowhere to go. When his car breaks down in a small Texas town, he has no choice but to seek help from a biker bar in the middle of nowhere. After a lifetime of rejection, he doesn’t want to trust anyone ever again. But when he meets a blue-eyed bear at the bar who promises him kindness and protection, he desperately wants to believe that this time things will be different.
James Alan Cutter is on a mission.
As a member of an immortal motorcycle club entrusted with protecting humanity, he shouldn’t be taking time off for romance. But something about Abbott stirs his Daddy nature.
When evil stalks the boy Cutter has fallen for, his brothers in arms come together to protect their love.
Cutter’s Mission is a 48K motorcycle club romance with an age gap, size difference, and hurt/comfort.
After Cutter turned the lights down low in his room and finally settled in, his body was pulled into a deep, dreamless sleep. Sometime later, Cutter heard a slight click. Old soldier instincts kicked in and his body stiffened, preparing to fight. His senses reached out and quickly, he remembered he was in his own bed. The noise that had awakened him was the door handle turning. Light peeked in through the opening, and the silhouette of a trembling boy stood in his doorway.
“Abbott? What is it, boy?” He kept his voice quiet and nonthreatening.
“I – I had a nightmare. I’ll, I’m sorry, I…”
His quivering voice alerted Cutter to Abbott’s emotional state. “Abbott, come here.” He lifted his covers in invitation. Within seconds, his arms were full of his shaking redheaded temptation. He turned on his side, pulling Abbott close to him, keeping his arms wrapped tight. Abbott’s face burrowed closer to his chest, and Cutter could feel the wetness of his cheeks.
“I promise you, Abbott, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.” He was rubbing soothing circles on his boy’s back and placed little kisses on his forehead. “You are safe in this town. The Valhalla Warriors watch out for their own, and I guarantee no one could come to St. Germain and hurt you.”
Abbott sniffed. “But I’m not a member of your club. Why would they protect me?” His voice was muffled against Cutter’s chest. “Because you need help, and I can help. I want to. That’s all they need to know. And I—” He paused. What was the best way to tell this precious boy that Cutter wanted to protect him, be a Daddy to him? They weren’t friends, much less in a relationship so it was too early. Wasn’t it?
As an author, I’m looking to bring my readers joy. The Valhalla Universe is full of Amazonian Warriors, Valkyrie, gods, goddesses, war heroes who ride motorcycles, and the humans who love them. The Valhalla Warriors is an LGBTQ Series that is insta-love, low angst, light kink romp of fun and steam.
I always turn up at just the wrong moment. I never know how to make the most of a situation; I don’t know the right thing to say, or when I should come or go. Let’s just say I have really shit timing. I’m not a smart guy. I don’t have great ideas. I’m practical, a hard worker; someone who lives for his family, and for the air that she breathes. It’s just a shame that the “she” in question never knew this. It’s a shame that I waited all these years to make my move. It’s useless to tell you, readers, that it was already too late; that I’d screwed everything up, once again. And, this time, my mistakes forced her to come home. Except she didn’t want to stay. And now she hates me – or maybe she doesn’t. I still haven’t worked out what’s going on between us, but like I said, I’m not the sharpest tool in the box. And even though this could be my last chance, I’m not going to be the one to ask her to stay. Not even if she turns out to be the one I’ve always waited for. Because she doesn’t belong in this place. And she doesn’t belong in my life. My name is Alex Brennan, and this is my story: of how I realised I’d lost the most important person in my life, before I even had her.
I whisper my answer onto her mouth, brushing against her; I try to say it again, but louder, in case she didn’t hear me, pressing my lips onto hers more firmly, carrying her away with me, before slowly letting them go with a sigh. I dive back in: this time, my tone is decisive, my movements more impatient. Her lips part, and my tongue slips between them, giving her my answer once again, telling her everything she needs to know. My hands frame her face, her hands lost in my hair. She moves closer, so that we’re chest to chest; her tongue dances around mine, telling me that this isn’t just a senseless monologue, but a full-blown discussion: one with commas, exclamation points, and pauses for breath. There are so many breaths, which she robs from me and I steal back from her.
I’ve never kissed her like this before, and I want to make sure it’s one she never forgets.
We pull apart for a moment, giving me just enough time to admire her shining eyes, before I remind her again of my answer. I don’t think I’ve made it clear enough, yet.
I pant onto her mouth and go back to her; I take her lips between mine and nibble them, gently. My hands slide down her back, her arms, her sides, in search of the hem of her top; my fingers delve underneath, seeking out her skin.
Ellie lets herself go, lets me set the pace. She wants to hear what I have to say, with no interruptions, just as I asked. But her hands have another idea; they don’t know how to stay put, weaving her fingers through my hair and grabbing it, before letting it go. They slide down my face and stroke my beard, keeping me close to her. Her body is pressed against mine, as if it needs to recognise me, know how to excite me; how to love me.
We kiss like this, by the dock, across from the bay.
We kiss like this, like we’ve never kissed before; as if we needed to understand that our mouths were really meant for one another.
We kiss like this, as if we’d been kissing for ten years, and knew the shape of each other perfectly; as if we knew all the stopping points, when to breathe.
We kiss like this, as if the love I’ve always felt for her were the same as the love she feels for me, now.
We kiss like this, as if the woman I’ve been waiting my entire life for is finally back where she belongs.
We kiss like this, as if I were telling her that I could never be anyone but hers.
We kiss like this, as if she were telling me she can only ever be mine.
