Inland Empire! by James Buchanan

Book Two of “Taking the Odds”

by James Buchanan

Sequel to Cheating Chance!

Available June 2009!

eBook: Torquere Press out now

Print; MLR Press out end of June

Already reviewed by the Lovely Elisa http://elisa-rolle.livejournal.com/685927.html

Blurb:

Read an excerpt…

It was always so good to hear Nicky’s laugh, deep and rich and all for Brandon. The cop drowned in the warm tones of it. Then Nicky sat up and twisted to lean over the end of the bed. He fumbled in the carryon for a moment and came up with a black plastic bag. “Look, I bought you something.” From the confines of the shopping bag, Nicky drew a stuffed dog. Carmel fur fluffed between his fingers. The floppy ears were black, matching the spot over its left eye.

A stuffed dog. His lover was presenting him with a toy and not the cool adult kind. It took a few moments for that fact to click into place. “Nicky, I’m almost thirty. I grew out of stuffed animals when I was, like, ten.”

“But it’s a Harley hound.” Nick bounced the stuffed dog on his knee. “Look he’s got the orange and black T-shirt with a bike on it. And little black riding chaps. He’s even got the logo on his little paw.”

Brandon wasn’t sure which was worse; the puppy eyes on the toy or the puppy eyes on Nick. “Okay, that’s just scary Nicky. I don’t know if that makes you too fem or too young to fuck anymore.”

“Jesus, Brandon, you’re always so serious.” Using one black ear as a fulcrum, Nick lobbed the dog. It landed, legs obscenely spread, across Brandon’s chest, head pointing toward his crotch. “Lighten up. Where’s your sense of humor? It’s just a stupid toy I found at this outlet store. I though it was funny. Let it live on your couch or something.” Waiving toward the wall and pictures, Nicky continued, his tone sharp. “Shit, you could give it to Shayna as a reminder of her daddy if you wanted. I don’t care.”

Staring down his nose at the dog’ upturned tail, Brandon snorted. “Well at least it’s a gay dog. It’s already assumed the position.”

“Should I,” Nicky’s voice dropped from snide to husky as he leaned in. One hand supported his weight next to Brandon’s shoulder. Nick ran the knuckles of the other down Brandon’s sternum making the cop twitch, “make you assume the position?”

“I just got off work, Nicky. I haven’t even eaten yet.” A drive-through dinner rapidly cooled somewhere in the kitchen. Brandon had dumped the fast food before hauling Nicky’s bags up the stairs.

Nicky laughed, his touch drifting lower. As he tugged on Brandon’s belt buckle, he purred out, “Who needs to eat, baby?”

“I got work tomorrow.” The protest was half hearted at best.

Bending over, smashing the stuffed dog between them, Nicky’s dark eyes smoked. “I’ll make you breakfast while you shower.”

Hell, yeah! Horny Nicky was far better than cold, greasy fried chicken any day. “Fuck!” Brandon groaned. Blood pounded between his legs.

“Yeah,” Nicky ground his own stiff cock against Brandon’s thigh. Shit, Brandon could die happy knowing what direction Nicky’s thoughts had gone. Both of them were raging hard and trapped in their jeans. Each pull on his buckle as Nicky fought to loosen his belt, sent shivers wicking through Brandon’s gut. “That’s what I was thinking.”

With a clank the big buckle came undone. “Come on, Nicky, quit kidding.” Nicky started on the buttons of Brandon’s 501s.

“Who the fuck’s kidding? I think you need to get pounded unapologetically.” Yanking on Brandon’s jeans, his sensual voice shot fire down the cop’s spine. “Bend you over and fuck you like mad.”

“Nicky?” The word was both a question and a plea.

“See, I’ve had a nap. Crashed before I got on the plane. So you aren’t getting away tonight… not at all.” He pushed up Brandon’s shirt. Nipping at the cop’s tattooed skin with his teeth, he teased. “I’m going to throw you on your knees and stick my dick up your ass and make you beg for more.”

Brandon writhed on the bed, burning up with Nicky’s feather light touches. “Oh, shit yeah.” Nicky could get him from zero to sixty in two seconds flat.

“You’re mine tonight. All mine.” Nicky squeezed Brandon’s balls through his jeans and the cop shivered. “Where do you keep the necessary equipment?”

Brandon could barely manage to pant out, “Headboard.” It was one of those ugly seventies era bookcase things, but at least it was useful for storage. No place for a nightstand could be found in his bedroom.

Nicky scuttled up the bed to rummage in the various nooks and crannies. As he searched, Brandon took advantage of the position. With quick, practiced ease, Brandon got Nicky’s jeans undone and pulled them down. Ah, hell, Nicky’s porn star prick was right in front of him. The sight rocked him each and every time. Dark skin stretched over a thick long shaft, the color fading slightly just below the crown. Nicky’s head throbbed red in front of him. Tiny drops of fluid pooled at the tip. Brandon leaned in taking in the scent. He smelled like guy times twenty.

With a growl he licked Nicky’s thighs, hands running over Nicky’s legs. Then he buried himself into that warm heady patch of fur and breathed deep. Nicky’s cock stroked his cheek. The hard veins pulsed warm against his skin. Brandon’s tongue snaked out tasting Nicky’s flavor, so thick and heavy. He’d do just about anything for Nicky. He looked up across Nicky’s body. Nicky’s lips pulled tight baring his teeth and his eyes fluttered back. God, he loved doing that to Nicky, giving him so much.

Growling out, “Get naked,” Nicky undid the top two buttons on his shirt then unceremoniously yanked the material over his head.

Naked, naked was real good. Somehow the cop managed to get his biker boots and jeans off in one slightly less then graceful movement. He shucked his t-shirt and briefs just as fast.

When he looked up from where he lay on the bed, Nicky knelt above him in all his glory. Damn, he was still so hot for this guy. Brown eyes so dark they were nearly black and warm skin tones that made Brandon’s pulse thunder. He wished Nicky still had the long hair. Then he reminded himself: hair grew back, spilt brains didn’t. But still, those strong features, broad shoulders and bright smile nailed him every time.

Leaning down, Nicky tongued his nipple and Brandon hissed. Weight pressing one of Brandon’s wrists into the bed, his lover explored from one sensitive spot to the other and then back again. “Fuck, Nicky,” he begged. Nicky laughed tracing his tongue lower and lower. Brandon’s prick begged to be touched, jumping in time to his heart beats.

Finally, Nicky’s tongue reached out and licked the head of his aching prick. Strong fingers teased his hole with light caresses. He reached up and ran his hands through Nicky’s short cropped hair. The scars, from where they’d sewn his scalp back together, felt strange under Brandon’s fingers. It was a very tactile reminder of how close he’d come to loosing Nicky. For awhile, Brandon rode the sensations from the teasing touches, letting himself drift under Nicky’s attention. Patterns of heat etched on the skin of his cock made him shiver. The wanting, without having Nicky inside him, flowed through his frame. Brandon savored just having the other man close.

Agent Nick O’Malley and Det. Brandon Carr are back. Nick heads to Riverside, California, center of the Inland Empire and Brandon’s home turf. But every minute Nick’s in Riverside threatens to out Brandon. When events embroil Nick in one of Brandon’s investigations — gang hits, prostitution, illegal gambling and human trafficking – can they survive both?

Who always sees things the author slipped in!