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First published January 31, 2012
“People aren't always who they seem, Detective. Am I anything like you thought?”
“No,” I admitted. You're a million times better than I could have imagined. And that was the problem. Looking at Peter, I realized that I was never going to get over him. A distressing thought when I considered I might not ever have Peter.
“Besides, for our date Saturday? I was thinking less cell block and more movie house.” I said brightly.
His lips twitched, but he didn't say no. I took that as ‘Oh, you sexy devil, Austin, I want to do you right here, but I'm super-duper excited about our date so I'll wait’.
I was paraphrasing, of course.
“Rabbit's the rock we cling to when we're drowning. He needs a mountain to hold him up, not another storm that'll wear away at him.”
“I love you. No you don't. I don't love you. Yes you do. Wah wah wah. Some of us wanted to sleep!”
And damn Peter, too, while I was at it. And his fucking bunny slippers that made me interested enough to pay attention to him in the first place. I was burning those fuzzy fuckers the moment I saw them again.
"Blue eyes. No, not just blue, blue like glacial waters, like poems, like heavens and moonstones. Cornflower blue. And...
Blue like romantic poems? What the ever-living fuck?
I didn’t mourn her loss; nor did I think about the fact that I had caused her death. I had more important things to do. I spent the night fighting with Peter over the remote control.
I’ve sucked and fucked enough to figure out that one dick is just like another, one vagina isn’t any more special than another, and I’ve got more important things to do than looking for a new trick every night.
Peter and I had finally settled the monogamy argument. We didn’t choose it because of society; or because we needed to be faithful to prove anything. We chose to be monogamous because we didn’t want to worry about condoms and HIV. It was hedonistic, really.
“Overthinking. It’s like a disease with you. They should make pills for it.”
“They do. Little blue ones that drive the blood from the brain straight to the c@ck.”
“Hard-ons don’t make you think less. They make you think stupid. Which makes me think you must have one 24/7.”
"Thanks. I can sleep on the sofa.”
You can damn well sleep in my fu@king bed.
“It’s a pull out, you two can share.”
Over my dead, rotted-to-dust corpse! After Cai murdered me, of course.
"His lips twitched, but he didn’t say no. I took that as ‘Oh, you sexy devil, Austin, I want to do you right here, but I’m super-duper excited about our date so I’ll wait’. I was paraphrasing, of course."
I wasn’t gay. You don’t go twenty-six years before the gay gene suddenly just kicks in. It didn’t work like that. I was sure of it. Not that I knew that much about being gay. I had one friend with same-sex orientation, and Dana hadn’t spoken to me since I asked her to describe her honeymoon in graphic detail— and then made vibrator noises.
Fuck it, I’m not gay. Goddammit. I’m bunny-slipper-sexual?
I’m not gay."
"Congratulations. Would you like a medal?" Bunny Slippers asked.
"I already have a medal. For bravery, not for being gay. I think you made me gay."
"I made you gay? Is that better or worse than the person who made you stupid?"
I don’t give a shit if your daughter is gay or your whole fucking lineage is taking it up the ass. They’re not me. Unless you have some unique perspective on why I’m suddenly checking out guys’ asses, then I’m just going to go with the redhead that takes it up the ass and hope he has a shitfucking answer." Or a goddamn roadmap of how to deal with a sudden attraction to penises might be helpful, too.
Dear God, he’d broken my nose, charged me for sex, kicked me, made me look like an idiot, and all I wanted to do is bang the sense out of him with my dick.
Today is hump day, Luis." I lolled my head to the side and blinked prettily at my partner.
"Don’t make me lock you in a cell, Glass."
"What kind of gifts do people give their partner on hump day? Lube? Vibrators? Issues of Bazooms with a box of tissues?"
You’re frustrating."
"I’m adorable."
"From a distance," Peter admitted— grudgingly.
"Up close, I’m sexy as hell."
"You’re rich, spoiled and used to getting your way," he said stubbornly.
"Not true. If I had my way you would have kissed me and ridden me like cowboy while screaming ‘yeehaw’."
“I’m not gay.” That wasn’t what I meant to say. At least not so bluntly. It had just become a mantra as I drove across town. Repeated over and over so many times that, by the time I stood in the diner, confronted once again by this visceral attraction to a perfect stranger, the words tumbled out.This book was one of the four big players in the MM Romance genre for 2013, and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to do a buddy read of this with the GCR Group who were celebrating M/M March. This book would be entertaining for the solo reader, but I also recommend this for a book club. The eroticism doesn't permeate the text, and there is enough character development and seriousness to prompt many interesting conversations...
“Congratulations. Would you like a medal?” Bunny Slippers asked.
“I already have a medal. For bravery, not for being gay. I think you made me gay.”
“I made you gay?” He set down the napkin he was holding. “Is that better or worse than the person who made you stupid?”
I was not insecure. I was a perfectly normal combination of arrogant and narcissistic.Logan is a straight-laced detective on track to join the FBI. He's also a trust-fund kid with a huge ego and a fiancé. So when he finds himself sexually attracted to a redheaded bus boy at a local diner, he is obviously knocked for a loop.... And the knocks just keep coming for Detective Glass...
“Everyone is your competition.” Peter lifted his hand to his eyes and began lowering it incrementally. “It goes normal human beings, crazies, republicans, my hand, imaginary characters, corpses and then, in a moment of lustful psychosis, you.” By the time he was done, his hand was below the table.Peter comes from a rough past - one which slowly reveals its dark depths as the book progresses. He isn't a mere busboy at the diner, he's the owner - the ex-cop who took him in off the streets left it to him in his will.
“Cruelty is an effortless answer to fear.”The next book in this series (Not So Innocent) is Cai's story... We all hope it will be published, but I couldn't tell you when to save my life - Dani Alexander's Slashfiction site says "published 2012" GoodReads says "Published 2014" but they are all lying liars who tell all the lies...
“Who said that?”
“Um… me?”
“You’re too wise for your own good.”
“You’re too cynical for yours,”
“I'm not gay.” That wasn't what I meant to say.
“Congratulations. Would you like a medal?” Bunny Slippers asked.
“I already have a medal. For bravery, not for being gay. I think you made me gay.”
“I made you gay?” He set down the napkin he was holding. “Is that better or worse than the person who made you stupid?”
And f*ck it, I'm not gay. Goddammit.
I'm bunny-slipper-sexual?
*****************
“The fact that I was more comfortable owning up to the slippers thing and not the c*cksucker thing was mildly disturbing. I’d rather have a footwear fetish than a sudden attraction to penises? Yeah, that sounded about right."
*****************
...Bunny Slippers propped his shoulder against the wall, cocking his head slightly as he looked toward my car. My breath halted. I was sure he couldn't see me through the darkened windows, but somehow, it felt like he was seeing right into my slipper-obsessed soul.
The bunny slippers, a different pair --and how many did he have for f*ck's sake?
“Rabbit's the rock we cling to when we're drowning. He needs a mountain to hold him up, not another storm that'll wear away at him.”
****************
"You're a manipulative as*hole, you know that?"
"You love it."
"Only when your manipulations are to get into my pants."
"Yes, my so clever manipulations to get into your pants. What were those again?"
"Breathing. Talking. Existing."
*****************
"You're rich, spoiled and used to getting your way," he said stubbornly.
"Not true. If I had my way you would have kissed me and ridden me like a cowboy while screaming 'yeehaw'."
"What makes you think you won't ride me?"
*****************
”Tell me something good about your life”
“You”