by Parker Avrile
M/M Contemporary Novella
Free read
Amazon US | UK | BN | iTunes | ARe | Kobo
Note to UK fans - Amazon hasn't yet price-matched it to free on their UK site, but you should be able to get it free at one of the other vendors.
Blurb:
Three million dollars is up for grabs...
Nobody stumbles into this two-bit lakefront casino by accident. Chris knows there's something hinky going on from the moment Dillon waltzes into the place wearing his form-fitting three-hundred-dollar jeans. Dillon's blazing hot, but those magic fingers keep triggering the machines to spit out jackpots.
It's Chris's job to put guys like Dillon in prison. That's the reason Chris needs to go undercover as a hookup who meets Dillon on a secluded beach.
Or at least Chris tells himself that's the reason.
"Beach Night" is an 18,000-word male/male contemporary romantic suspense novella. It's a complete standalone story with a happily ever after and NO cliffhanger.
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Excerpt:
"...This wasn't the kind of place where two guys held hands in public, but Chris could feel the warmth of him scant inches away. Maybe he was kidding himself all along. Research? All he wanted to research at the moment was what Dillon looked like out of those custom-fitted jeans. He imagined a tailor kneeling, a measuring tape in his hands, as he figured out exactly where to make the adjustments. It was a sexy image, a guy's face so close to the level of Dillon's crotch.
Once Dillon put up all the deadbolts on the door of his hotel room, Chris felt nervous again. All the locks were meant to make him feel secure, to remind him that everything they did and said was now utterly private, but they had the opposite effect. For a minute Chris didn't know where to put his hands or how fast to move.
Dillon turned and traced a finger along the line of Chris's mouth. The butterfly wing touch sent sparkles running down Chris's spine.
"You don't do this often, do you?" Dillon asked.
"Do I seem that pathetic?"
"Let me rephrase that. I don't do this often. I was in a relationship for five years. A guy from college. I thought we had something." Now Dillon's hand cupped Chris's chin.
"What happened?"
"He decided to pursue a job opportunity in Paris."
"Oh. That's harsh."
"I guess I'm not prettier than Paris." Dillon didn't seem too broken up about it. Maybe the wound had healed. He closed the final inch between them, kissing Chris around his lips and then directly on his mouth and then slipping his tongue just inside. It wasn't the kind of kiss Chris expected from a dating app hookup. It was slow and suggestive and told you this man liked to take his time.
Chris touched the button at Dillon's collarbone. He felt like his hands were still trembling, but he hoped it didn't show. "Same song, different verse. When we met, I knew mine liked 'em blond and twenty-three. I'm still blond but I got older every year." He thought his own wound had healed, but he didn't like the way his voice sounded in his ears when he said that.
"Fuck," Dillon said. "I'm sorry, Justin."
Justin. Oh yeah. Chris didn't want to talk any more. What was the point of talking to a man you didn't trust enough to give him a real name? It was better just to touch.
Every time he unbuttoned a button, he kissed the lickable patch of smooth skin beneath it. Well-defined muscles said Dillon spent as much time in the gym as he did in the casino...."
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