Ever wonder what men say about their men when they’re alone? Check it out.
Reed Chandler wasn’t sure he wanted to make this trip. A few hours after landing in Vegas, Stanton Kavanaugh, Wes Tucker, and Reed gathered in a club that appeared deserted. Two servers stood nearby after they were escorted to their table. “Who planned this shindig? Damn place is empty.”
“Does anyone say shindig anymore?”
Glaring at Wes, Reed cautioned, “Age related comments like that will get your ass in hot water.”
“That wasn’t a dig… Hell, you’re right. I’m not far behind you.”
“Thank you very much. And didn’t Hunter plan this?”
“Knew I should have handled it.” Wes waved a waiter over. “Is the club open tonight?”
“No, sir. Private party. You’ll be our only guests. Would you like a beverage?”
Each man ordered drinks and Stanton bought the most expensive champagne the club offered. “May as well live it up.”
Wes chuckled. “Sure you’re ready? Marriage is a big step.”
“I think I’m getting the better part of this deal. Banyon is perfect. Damn man cooks like an executive chef. My house should have at least three stars.”
“Yeah and I’m positive the way to your heart is through your stomach.”
“Kiss my ass, Reed.”
“I don’t know; Hunter’s pretty damn special.” Wes’ eyes closed as he spewed memories Reed could have lived without. “All that house painting, attention to corners and trim work, exquisitely done little details; should have known he’d be good with his hands.”
“Shit, you both do understand no one outshines Scott.”
“Figures you’d say that, Reed. Scared he might stab your ass?”
“Fuck off, Stanton.”
“We know you’re enthralled with his damn piercings glinting in sunlight, moonlight, bedroom lights…” Wes winced. “I hurt every time I think about them.”
“Jesus! You go around thinking about my man’s piercings?” Grunting Reed became solemn. “After tonight, he’ll want something else to add to his jewelry collection.”
Wes studied him. “Shit, you haven’t put a ring on it yet?”
“Hunt’s birthday is coming up. I got it covered.”
Stanton nudged Reed. “I’ll give you my jeweler’s information.”
Their attention was diverted as soft music filtered through the room and lights dimmed. The curtain slowly lifted.
Ban, Hunt, and Scott stood center stage.
All three men at the table eyed each other.
Air wheezed past Wes’ lips. “Thank God!”
“Didn’t want to see your man’s stuff covered in pretty lace?” Reed was rather glad himself their young men chose to remain fully clothed from the waist down. No need to give Wes more fodder seeing Scott’s newest cock piercing.
“Hell no. I spend enough on panties and don’t need competition in that department. Bad enough I have to look at that sweet ass in those fucking jeans.”
Stanton rose. “I’m out. Enjoy the champagne.” He walked to the stage, grabbed Banyon, and carted him away.
Wes laughed. “What about you?”
“I’m going to watch Scott take it all off.”
“I can’t handle that.”
“I know.” Reed’s face split into a grin as he leaned back in the chair and stretched legs. “Have a good night.”
MEET THE BRIEF KNIGHTS
PLAYED FOR PAY (Brief Knights 1)
Banyon Jameson: “I’m paid to escort. Nothing more. Anything extra is my choice and if it does happen—he will pay for it.”
Stanton Kavanaugh: “I’m willing to pay my escort for ‘extra’ services, but it’d be a big mistake to fall for this pretty bastard wearing red silk panties.
WHEN HE PLAYS-(Brief Knights 2)
Weston Tucker: “I painted with love until she died. I never expected to meet him.”
Hunter Gold: “He’s crotchety, mean, disdainful. He smells damn good; he’s delicate, gentle, and oh so very nasty!”
THE LAST BRIEF KNIGHT!
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PAID TO PLAY (Brief Knights 3)
Pre-order now for 3/22/19
Scott Ketchum: “I’ve slept with a few clients. I might sleep with him if I like him, but he won’t keep me enthralled for long. None ever do.”
Reed Chandler: “For the right price, my escort will put out. It’s my money and I get what I pay for.”
Standalone MM/May-December Romances, all HEA, and no cliffhangers. Includes lacy underwear, angry sex, and explicit sexual language with cursing!
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out. – J. Hali Steele