All Dillon wants to do is flirt with his crush. Too bad his family keeps getting in the way.
It’s Saturday night and nineteen-year-old beekeeper Dillon should be at home enjoying game night with his big family, but he can’t resist another trip to the strip club. It’s the only night he gets to see Cal, who stars in all Dillon’s fantasies and has no idea he’s been using a fake ID to get in to see him.
But making fantasy a reality? That’s difficult, especially when Dillon’s family can’t see him as an adult, let alone someone capable of dating a man twice his age. And that’s only the beginning of the complications that seem determined to keep Dillon and Cal apart.
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Excerpt ~
Dillon
There were probably a million things I should have been doing instead of going back to Gents to watch the guys dance. It was a Saturday night. In my family that meant game night. We’d get together at my cousin Gavin’s house and sit around and play Risk or Clue or Ticket to Ride or something. They were probably wondering where I was now, though no one had started texting me yet. My two older brothers would be there, along with my three cousins and Gavin’s ex-wife, Cindy, and his kid, Kyle.
But I’d be missing game night this Saturday, just as I’d missed it last Saturday too. I couldn’t play it off like I’d forgotten what day it was or anything like that either. We all had the reminders on our phones. I should have been there with my family.
Instead I was at Gents, because Saturday nights were the only night, as far as I could tell anyway, that Callum worked. He was probably at least thirty and his reddish blond hair was curly and hopefully naturally that color. I’d seen him almost completely naked over my last few months of coming here so I was pretty sure he didn’t do a thing to change the color of his hair. I was really glad about that.
In my fantasies, of which I’d had plenty featuring him already, he spoke with a deep Irish accent. He also wore a kilt though, and a sash, and sometimes even a dagger. He never took any of it off. I hadn’t gotten that far in my daydreams of him yet, but I’d been undressed by him plenty.
Callum came on the stage, accompanied by some song I didn’t know. It had a fast beat with a high-pitched female voice screaming out. I tuned the song out as much as possible. I wasn’t next to the stage, two tables away from it actually. I didn’t want to be caught staring, even though I was. I looked at my hands on top of the table often. Pretty much every time Callum looked at me, I glanced down at my hands. I couldn’t handle his smile that seemed like it was only meant for me. I couldn’t look at him and find him looking back at me. I was trying to be invisible, while still being there. I didn’t want to be off in a corner somewhere where I couldn’t see him at all. I’d paid the cover and I’d already ordered my two beers for the two-drink minimum. I’d probably only have one of them. That’s what I did most of the time at least.
My phone vibrated and as much as I didn’t want to see it, I pulled it out anyway. I wasn’t surprised to see a text from my cousin’s ex-wife. Cindy was Kyle’s mom and she and Gavin got along most of the time. Better than I did with any of my exes anyway, but then again, I didn’t have kids with my exes and Gavin was over a decade older than me.
You’re not here. Are you sick?
I sighed. If I said I was sick, someone would have driven by my house to check on me. If I said I was busy, someone would have offered to help so that I could get done faster and get to game night. I didn’t know what to say but I knew I had to lie.
Had something else to do tonight.
Liar.
I pursed my lips and put my phone away. I wasn’t lying. I did have something else to do. Staring at Callum’s ass was at the top of that list. He had on a green thong and black chaps. I didn’t know if they were real leather or fake from here but I wanted to know. He’d worn them last week, too, and I’d wanted to know then as well.
Trying not to stare at him was getting me nowhere. I simply wanted him too much. A man I didn’t know anything about, or even if Callum was his real name. I couldn’t stop tipping him either. It was a good thing that my honey harvest had been so good last fall because I wasn’t used to blowing through money like I was.
I was going to do even more tonight. I’d turned him down for a private dance before, but tonight I was ready. I’d paid off my bills for the month and I knew how much I could afford. I wasn’t cheap, but I wasn’t rich either and I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t know what he was worth. I wanted him. Badly.
When his set ended and he came around this time, he stopped at my table just as before.
“Having fun?” he asked me.
I nodded. His accent was there, though only slight, and it could have been completely my imagination. “Can I have a dance tonight?” My voice wasn’t nearly as strong as his was, but I was just glad that I’d managed to get the words out at all really. I was nervous, and maybe even a little worried that he’d reject me, but I was mostly excited, especially when he smiled at me and offered me his hand.
“I was going to ask you if you wanted one,” he said when I slipped my fingers over his palm.
His skin was softer than mine. I used long gloves whenever I worked with the hives, but I still had callouses. I loved the work though. Even down to the sanding of the hives when I finished building them. I didn’t use an electric sander. I liked the feel of the paper under my fingers.
~
Come Find Me!
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In Small Town Oklahoma the Zombie Apocalypse hits in the middle of English class...
Mrs. Warden’s lecture about the proper punctuation for a compound sentence faded away like a movie transition. My mind instead focused on the image of Aria’s smile. My niece Aria was born three months ago and ever since I found myself in a constant state of distracted. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes gleamed in unknown amusement when she looked at me would randomly pop into my mind at the most inconvenient times. I never thought being an Uncle would be such a huge deal.
“Zack,” I jumped at the sound of my name. The images slipping away. “Zack Romine are you with us?”
“Yeah,” I said, straightening my back in the hard chair. “Yeah, I’m here. For compound sentences, you use a comma before coordinating conjunction connecting two independent clauses.”
“Did you memorize that from Google?”
“Yep.”
“That’s great,” she smiled, and I felt vindicated. “So now let’s move on to the current topic of dangling participles. What does Google have to say about them?”
Crap. Vindication gone, swept away like a dried leaf in the wind.
“Dangling participles are adjectives that—” the feedback from the school loudspeaker shook the room and we all winced.
“All Students and Faculty, this is Principle Garroutte. A national emergency has been declared as 2:15 PM today.” I looked at the clock on the wall it read 2:27 PM. That was quick. “An epidemic has hit the United States. The CDC has asked all residents to return home immediately. You are to lock your doors and board up your windows. The zombie epidemic is upon us.”
I started laughing at the absurdity of the statement. Wow, nice joke. Principle Garroutte always did have a great sense of humor. I wondered if coach Key was in on it as well. Then like a siren in the middle of a tornado our cell phones started blaring with shocking unity. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket. Before I even had a chance to look at the message chaos erupted. Students were rushing to the door, shoving each other to the side in an attempt to get through it first. Mrs. Warden had her oversized purse laid out on the top of her desk tossing the contents of her top drawer into the bag.
The thought of asking for the cannabis baseball cap she confiscated at the beginning of the year ran through my head, chased by the what the hell are you thinking! The Zombie apocalypse is starting. You don’t need to ask, just grab it!
Immediately going back in my thoughts, I need to get home to Aria and Mom. Make sure they are safe. Mom takes care of Aria during the day while my brother and his wife work.
I dumped out my backpack into the garbage debating the usefulness of the contents. Nothing worth saving. I looked around scanned the contents of the now empty room. My eye landed on the meter stick laid across the bottom of the whiteboard. Grabbing it I headed to the doorway. I stepped into the hallway and stood in awe. A typhoon swirl of red and black filled the hall. Tonight, was the pep rally for the launch of football season and the students and faculty were dressed accordingly, wearing red sweatshirts with huge Zebras on the front, ballcaps, girls with their hair tied up neatly in Zebra striped ribbons. Now students and teachers pushed, slammed and clamored toward their freedom or safety depending on their frame of mind. The celebration of the day fizzled away into panic, anger, tears, and hysteria. As I walked, I saw more and more discarded hats, limp ribbons, and torn Zebra memorabilia littering the floors.
My mind went into hyperdrive, like the millennium falcon navigating the universe with the Empire hot on its tail. I headed to the common area, my mind still buzzing. The quickest way out and the quickest way home. Wait. If the Zombie apocalypse had truly begun that meant there were people already infected. Who knew how many and where? I need weapons and armor.
Watching the Walking Dead had taught me a few things and the hundreds of hours watching and re-watching the series was now a useful encyclopedia of knowledge imprinted in my brain. The biggest variable in the equation now was how intelligent and or fast these real Zombies were.
Reaching the common area, I searched for anyone I knew. I see no one. All my friends no doubt had plans to get home and to their families. I would no doubt meet up again with them soon. Making a beeline to the kitchen I see my band buddy Shane rummaging through the utensil drawer.
“You find anything?”
“Serving spoons, tongs, and a few spatulas nothing useful.”
“I’m gonna check the fridge.”
“Dude, you can eat later,” Shane mocked.
“The first thing people are going to do is clean out the stores. Guarantee Walmart, Reasors and the five Dollar Generals are empty by dinner time tonight.”
“You’re point?”
“My point is why go to the grocery store,” I open the walk-in freezer to reveal a plethora of food. Bags of chicken nuggets, stacks of frozen pizza, frozen hamburger patties, bread, buns, corndogs and every other kind of lunch or breakfast item a high school could serve. “When you can feed your family for months on free cafeteria food?”
“Wow.”
“And this is just the freezer. The fridge is stocked as well.”
“What happens when the power goes out. You know it’s going to happen.” Shane cocked his head.
“Let’s deal with reality as we know it right now. Right now, we have power – wait doesn’t the chem lab have dry ice?”
“Nice.”
“First things first. I’m gonna load up my backpack. Wait –” a thought occurs to me and I walk out of the kitchen and into the common area seeing several discarded backpacks laying on the floor. “Hey Shane, how much can you carry?”
Shane stood beside me his eyes scanning the area. “As much as humanly possible.”
***
Come Find Me!
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Nic had entered The Service to find the love of a lifetime, but when that didn’t materialize, he threw himself into opening a sex theater which was haunted by just the man he was dreaming about.
Nic had completed his years of Service and was now a wealthy independent marked man. He had grand plans to re-invent the take The Service had on delivering sex to non-marked men. He bought an old theater in Nashville and refurbished it into a sex club with live shows and Master-Servant experiences. It became apparent quickly that the theater was haunted and dangerous, but Nic felt safer there than anywhere. The day before the Grand Opening, Nic appealed to the ghost for a safe performance. He received a reply, but wasn’t sure if his deal was accepted or not. The opening goes off without a hitch. He begins to feel a pull towards the Phantom that was unlike any he had ever felt before. Together they seek answers to questions that are only found when Nic gives up total control to the Phantom.
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Excerpt ~
Part of a text string between Nic Netus and his former Master, Robert Ballentyne that took place on the night of April 20, 2018.
Robert, I just wanted to remind you that I’m flying out tonight
Where are you going again?
Nashville
Oh, that’s right. Going to go see about buying a theater there?
Yes. How’s your leg? Did you go back to see the doctor again?
Don’t fuss over me. You make me feel old…
How is it?!?!
It’s fine. Doesn’t hardly hurt.
Nonsense
I don’t want you thinking of your former Master as a feeble old man.
I don’t. I think of you as a powerful man with an incredible set of connections that has paved the way to making my future plans possible! And one of my best friends…
Hmmm…that’s better than old and feeble.
Haha!
Be careful. I worry about your safety.
Don’t worry. I’ve already hired a body guard to protect me while I am there.
You better let him fuck you once you arrive. He will want to protect you even more if he knows what you have to offer!
Not a bad idea…
* * * *
I had given up on sex.
I mean, I still had sex—quite a lot of it actually, but I had given up on the idea of it. Now, in my head it was just what it was—an extremely pleasurable act between two consenting adults. But I no longer thought of it as this momentous, life-changing act that could make me fall in love with the man sticking it in me.
It was the thrill of the chase that turned me on, almost as much as the sex did. A lot of times, I found myself disappointed with the man whom I had pursued, once I had his clothes off. But, fortunately for me, there were a lot of men out there to choose from, and the very next one would soon take his place.
I was a marked man in a world full of non-marked men. In our world, men who received a blue mark on their faces at the age of thirteen were labeled as men who were sexually attracted to other men. Our world contained no women, so I had a very unfair advantage attracting NOMARs, like shooting fish in a barrel. Being marked was very rare, while being non-marked, or NOMAR, was extremely common, so I had no problem at all in finding man after man who wanted to fuck me.
I had put all of my hopes on falling in love when I entered The Service. They almost immediately called me to Service. They had found a rich NOMAR to be my Master and I wanted him to be the lover I had always dreamed about. Robert turned out to be more of a friend than the love of my life. I enjoyed his company, learned a whole lot from him, and made a lot of money from him, but I did not love him.
I was still young, good-looking and now, thanks to multiple years in The Service, I was also very rich. My life was a blank canvas spread out in front of me just waiting to be painted. And that canvas today was in Nashville, Tennessee, where I had decided to open up my new business.
The car in which I found myself riding through Nashville, pulled over to the curb in front of an old stately theater. I looked out of the car window up at the building and looked up and down the street in each direction. The edifice was unique and spectacular. The neighborhood was not so regal, but it definitely had potential.
Once satisfied, I turned to my companion riding in the back seat with me. “Looks safe enough.”
“It’s not a bad neighborhood,” the big man beside me answered. “It’s just fallen on hard times.”
“Well, let’s see what we can do to help them out.” I watched as a skinny marked man exited a Mercedes sedan in front of us and walked back to stand by my car door. He waved at us through the windows of our rented car. He was wearing an expensive suit that fit him well and I really liked his Italian loafers.
I opened the door, squeezed my six-foot-three-inch frame out of the door, and straightened out until I was standing at my tallest on the sidewalk. Taking great enjoyment from the widening of the skinny guy’s eyes, I held out my hand to him.
“Alexander?” I asked as I closed the gap between us with my hand still raised.
He took my hand and said, “Yes, that’s me. And you must be Mr. Nicolea Netus. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Netus.”
“Please call me Nic.” I could tell from his voice that he was excited. As all marked men do when we so rarely run into another one of our own, we each took a few seconds to study the other’s mark. Marks always appeared on the faces of each marked man on the exact moment of his thirteenth birthday. Each mark was as unique as a fingerprint.
Alexander’s mark was light and thin, just like him―a muted blue line that ran from the bottom of his left earlobe almost to his jaw. It stood in sharp contrast to mine. Having studied mine so many times in the mirror, I knew it to be electric blue in color, thick with jagged lines resembling flames, and running from my left earlobe all the way to the middle of my chin.
My riding companion had exited the car and was now standing beside me. “This is Bobby, my bodyguard for the day.”
Alexander shook hands with the big man beside me and said, “And this is the Madsen Theater.” He presented it with a half-turn and a raised arm like he was a model on The Price Is Right.
~
Come Find Me!
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