Who's Watching Whom? by J.M. Snyder (writing as J. Tomas)

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Who's Watching Whom?
by J.M. Snyder (writing as J. Tomas)

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BLURB:
It's the first Saturday of summer vacation. But upcoming high school senior Logan Bradley can't celebrate -- he has to watch his younger brother Dylan while their mother attends her monthly book club meeting. She even forbids him from inviting his boyfriend Chad Adams over when she isn't home!

Logan's only consolation is his cell phone, which connects him to Chad. Now, if Dylan will just leave him alone long enough to chat up his boy, the evening might be salvaged ...

EXCERPT:
“Logan, are you listening to me?” His mother jingled her keys as she shouldered her purse. “Dylan has to be in bed by nine.”

Logan sighed. “Mom, it’s summer --"

“And we’re not arguing about this. Your brother already tried. Nine.” She tried to kiss his forehead but Logan stepped out of reach. “Spend some time with him before he goes down, will you? Don’t hole up in your room all night.”

Logan followed her to the door. “Can Chad come over?”

She shook her head. “You know my rule on that. No one in the house if I’m not here.”

“Mom,” Logan moaned. “It’s not like we’re going to have sex.”

Over her shoulder, she threw him a stern look. “Not in my house you’re not.”

Only half-joking, Logan said, “See, that’s why we need to go out riding tonight.”

His mother didn’t laugh. “No one in the house, you hear me?”

Logan sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Dylan in bed by nine. You can stay up until I get home --"

“Mom!’ Logan cried. “I’m seventeen.”

“Which is why you can stay up.” She smirked, pleased she had won this round. “I should be in before midnight. I have my cell with me if you need to call.”

“If I’m calling anyone, it’ll be Chad,” Logan groused.

“Do not spend all night on the phone,” his mother warned. “When I call later, you better answer, mister. Now give me a kiss.”

Grudgingly Logan leaned forward, but he kissed the air in front of her face instead of landing a peck on her cheek. “Have fun. I sure won’t.”

His mother sighed. “Not with that attitude.”

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An Evening with the Rush Hour Hero by J.M. Snyder

Now Available from JMS Books LLC!

An Evening with the Rush Hour Hero
by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
A Vic and Matt Story

Vic Braunson has little say over the superpowers he has-they come from his lover, Matt diLorenzo. In the time the men have been together, the powers have become such an integral part of Vic that he doesn't hesitate to use them when his help is needed. One evening on his way home from work, he witnesses a traffic accident that ties up the interstate and responds without thinking.

But when Matt hears about the accident on the evening news, Vic has a lot of explaining to do.

EXCERPT:
Vic considered his options, his mind ticking through them quickly. There weren't many. Push the bus back a bit, just enough to get the door open -- he could do it, he felt the strength still flooding his system but didn't know what traffic might be lining up behind the bus and didn't want to take the chance of involving other vehicles. He could move the car -- the truck that clipped the front bumper when the woman switched lanes had finally rolled to a stop a few hundred yards ahead, and between it and the city bus, they had blocked off the entire left lane. Or he could just wait, an ambulance was on the way, he heard the sirens. Didn't they say not to move someone from the scene of an accident? Or was that the scene of a crime ...

Suddenly he caught a pungent whiff of gasoline that decided him. Setting one shoulder against the car frame between the front and back doors, Vic gave an experimental shove. Energy swirled through him, spiraling out from the center of his being to flash through his veins, dousing them with strength. The car rocked grudgingly beneath him, then skidded a couple feet. He put his shoulder to it again, gave another hard push, felt the car shudder under him and move further away.

The truck driver ran up to the other side of the car. "Hey man," he started, but when Vic gave the car a third hard shove his way, he danced back. "Whoa. How'd you do that?"

Ignoring him, Vic banged on the driver's side window. "Lady! Can you hear me?"

No reply. Turning his attention to the children, Vic spoke to the little boy closest to the door. "Open this." The boy stared at him with large eyes as if he didn't understand. Vic pointed at the door, mimed pulling up the handle, then realized the car probably had power locks. Fuck.

As if he had spoken aloud, the little boy's eyes grew wider, his mouth opening in a perfect O of shock. "Sorry," Vic muttered.

Someone touched his arm and Vic whirled to find the truck driver beside him. "I smell gas," the guy announced.

"Thank you," Vic said, elbowing him aside. "You're such a help. Stand back, will you? Unless you can tear the doors off this thing --"

"Man, not me." The truck driver shook his head, his mousy gray ponytail bouncing from shoulder to shoulder for emphasis. "You need that jaws of life shit."

Vic said again, "Then stand back."

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Seventh Inning Stretch by J.M. Snyder

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Seventh Inning Stretch
by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
A Vic and Matt Story

Every year, a local hospice hosts a charity baseball tournament played by four gyms in the Richmond area. This year, the gym where Matt diLorenzo works is chosen to compete. When Matt misses another staff meeting because he's "busy in bed," his coworker Roxie signs him up to captain one of the gym's two baseball teams. The first person Matt plans to recruit is his lover Vic Braunson, whose super powers will definitely help out on the field.

Unfortunately, the gym has segregated their teams into staff and members. Matt works at the gym; he heads the staff team. Vic, a member, is asked to play on the members' team.

Disappointed, Matt suggests they abstain from sex for the next week to avoid giving Vic any powers that might help his team win the ballgame. But before long, Matt discovers that keeping his hands to himself is easier said than done. And when the two teams face off against each other, he finds it almost impossible to keep his mind on the game.

Through the mental connection they share, Vic picks up on Matt's lustful thoughts. They ruin his concentration, and threaten to throw the game. Matt wants him, bad. So he corners his lover in the locker room during the seventh inning stretch to find out just what Matt has in mind.

EXCERPT:
One kiss led to another, and they distracted Matt from the bothersome thought that buzzed through his head like an annoying insect. But Vic picked up on the distraction, and turned his face from Matt's to interrupt the moment. "So you're thinking of the game. What about it?"

Resting his head on Vic's shoulder, Matt sighed. He wasn't sure how to say what was on his mind without coming off sounding ... well, bad. "You know," he said, his voice low between them, "I just thought, maybe, it might be ... I don't know, wrong? For you to have such an advantage over everyone else on the other teams just because of me."

Vic glanced at him sharply. "What are you saying?"

"These powers," Matt explained. "They give you an edge, you know? And maybe that's not right."

"They come from you," Vic said. His brow furrowed, darkening. "From our love. What's not right about that?"

"Just for the game." Matt sighed and ran a hand over Vic's bald head, savoring the touch of smooth skin beneath his fingertips. "I'm not saying they're wrong -- hey're not. I love you, you love me, and the powers come out of that, I know. But maybe we shouldn't ... you know ..."

Vic prompted, "Fuck?"

Matt grinned. "Just until the game's over. It wouldn't be the first time we've held out for a week, right? And it'll put us on a more even playing field, that's all I'm saying."

Vic stared at him, silent. Matt met his gaze, but for once, he couldn't read what went on behind those baby blue eyes he loved so much. After a long minute, he prodded his lover's thoughts and in a small voice, whispered, "Don't be mad."

"I'm not." Vic's arms tightened around Matt's waist, hugging him close. He kissed the tip of Matt's nose, and his eyes softened as he stared into Matt's. "Look, I think you're right. Not because I'd use the powers to win or anything --"

"I know you wouldn't," Matt said quickly.

Vic continued, "But because sometimes I can't control them. And the last thing I need is some freaky power the day before the final game that blows it for my team."

"Or my team," Matt reminded him. "We might win."

Vic gave him an indulgent grin. "Why am I thinking if we were on the same team, we wouldn't be having this little talk?" 

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Chocolate Cake...

 A one off story about two random characters in my head to make up for the gaffe earlier...



Sean grinned as he took the steps two at a time. More than once there'd been threats from the neighbors to "keep it down" but Dave persisted in playing his music loud. As he rounded the corner his nose twitched.

"That explains it," he murmured under his breath.

It wasn't often that Dave got the urge to bake, but when he did Sean's belly smiled. If he wasn't mistaken it was chocolate cake this time. It had been a while since he'd indulged. Sometimes he thought it was the only reason he put up with all the bullshit that living with Dave entailed.

The screen door banged behind him and he dropped his bag on the floor. "Dave?"

"Pick that fucking bag up and put it where it belongs."

"Christ on a fucking crutch," Sean shouted. He yanked the bag back up off the floor. Maybe the cake wasn't enough to erase the bullshit. He stalked into the bedroom and threw the bag on the bed. It didn't belong there either, but he didn't care. He flung himself into the bathroom and slammed the door.

When he emerged half an hour later he found Dave lounging in the lone chair the bedroom had to offer, his long legs up on the bed next to Sean's bag. He leveled an unreadable gaze Sean's way.

"Putting your sweaty socks on my pillow, is that a message?" his voice was deceptively soft for his size.

"Jesus Christ Dave," Sean said with more than a hint of irritation in his voice, "First off they're in a bag, and secondly you brought it on yourself."

"I see."

Sean yanked the bag toward him and zipped it open. He began to rummage through the bag, sorting out the dirty clothes and tossing them toward the laundry basket. "When do we get cake?"

"I don't get cake," Dave said as he uncoiled his body from the chair and stalked toward Sean, "You get it whenever you want it."

The bag tossed into the closet Sean mumbled, "I want it now."

"Ok then," Dave said. He snaked an arm around Sean's waist and pulled him tight against his body. "Stay right here, don't move." His voice was a husky growl.

Sean couldn't quite suppress the shiver, and he bowed his head. He heard Dave rustling in the drawer behind him, and he flinched when Dave spoke again.

"Raise your head."

Sometimes an otherworldly hint of steel entered Dave's voice, as thought the character he played became real. Sean felt his skin crawl as Dave touched him again, his fingers were cool and clammy just as though his skin really was that of a leviathan emerging from the depths. He let out his held breath when he realized it was just a blindfold.

"The fuck?" he grated. "What kind of cake is it anyway?"

"Chocolate because I know you like it, with a soft pudding center." He lowered his hand to Sean's arm, and guided him from the bedroom into the front room, and roughly pushed down on the couch.

The music was turned off now. Sean sat with every muscle tensed, even more so when he heard the front door slammed shut, the unmistakable sound of the bolt being thrown, and the screech of the curtains being pulled shut.

Ever since the night they had shared a bowl of ice cream they were more careful with the door. They weren't "shacking up" it was more just a way to save money to a pair of starving students, but there were times when their relationship merged into something more. With the elaborate preparations, this seemed to be one of those times.

"Open your mouth," Dave's voice was a soft growl against his ear.


Sean obliged, and opened his mouth. He couldn't quite hold back the moan of satisfaction as the rich cake was deposited in his mouth. His eyelids fluttered under the blindfold, and when he finished the first bite, he opened his mouth for more.

"Greedy little baby bird," Dave said, and he forked up another bite.

"'S good Dave," Sean said, his mouth full of the cake.

"Mmhmm…I know," Dave said. He clicked the fork on the plate again, and waited for Sean to open his mouth.

This time, instead of the expected bite of cake, Sean felt Dave's lips, and then his tongue, and then it was a full blown chocolaty kiss, complete with Dave's hand working up Sean's thigh, under the edge of his loose shorts.

Good thing he'd locked the door, because this would be much harder to get out of than the last time.

Outage by J.M. Snyder

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Outage
by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
A Vic and Matt Story

Matt diLorenzo's coworker Roxie Johnson drags him to a boring, day-long workshop on office administration. Of course, the winter storm the weatherman's been predicting for the past few weeks decides to hit the same day. Matt's only consolation? The workshop is held in one of the high-rises downtown, and whenever his lover Vic Braunson's bus route brings him near the building, they can communicate telepathically for a few moments.

The wintry storm hits harder than anyone anticipates, downing power lines and taking out electricity to most of the surrounding localities. When Roxie learns that the gym where they work has closed due to inclement weather, she convinces Matt to ditch the workshop. They duck into the elevator moments before the building's power goes out, trapping them inside.

The next time Vic's bus brings him near the building, Matt calls out to his lover for help. Vic's current superhuman ability is an electromagnetic power that should allow him to recall the elevator to the lobby. But the street is blocked off by fallen power lines and the building's concierge won't let Vic near the mechanical room to work his magic.

And then there's Roxie, who doesn't yet know of Vic's powers or how he gets them ...

EXCERPT:
Matt was still sitting on the floor of the elevator, banging his head back against the wall in time with the mantra of his lover's name that scrolled through his thoughts, when he felt Vic's presence flood his mind. With a jerk, he sat up straight, his heart pounding in relief. "Vic?"

Across the small car, Roxie eyed him warily. "No," she said, cautious. "He's not here. You okay, Matt?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes to shut her out. ::Vic?:: he called out mentally. ::Oh God, Vic, we're stuck in an elevator and I'm about this close to losing it, I swear. I hate these things.::

The sensation of strong arms enveloped him, a psychic bear hug that chased away the fear that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. ::I'm on my way.:: Vic sounded so reasonable, so sure, that his confidence helped stave off Matt's anxiety. ::Where are you exactly?::

Matt didn't know. He tried to picture the office building they were in, but he hadn't seen very much of it while driving this morning -- he remembered a dark awning with a street number on it in ornate gold lettering, then he'd passed the building and drove into the underground garage. He wasn't even sure where he had parked now. Before panic could set in, Vic tamped that emotion down with his own psyche and asked, ::Is Roxie there? Does she know?::

"Hey Roxie." Matt roused himself to find her looking at him, distrustful. "Where are we?"

Her eyes narrowed as if she couldn't tell if he were being serious or not. "In an elevator," she said, speaking slowly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I mean ..." Matt sighed, exasperated. "The building. What building is this?"

With a frown, Roxie wanted to know, "Why?"

"Roxie!" Turning into himself, he told Vic, ::God, she's being deliberately mean today.::

::Then tell her why,:: Vic countered. ::It'll knock her down a peg or two.::

Matt gasped. ::I can't. Vic, I couldn't even tell you --::

::You did eventually.:: Matt felt his lover's smile warm him up inside. ::Hell, I found out myself anyway, and she's going to find out, too, when I ride in there like the cavalry. You might as well tell her. What's the worst that could happen?::

What indeed?

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Flashed! by J.M. Snyder

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Flashed!
by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
A novel is a love affair, with its ups and downs, but a short story can sometimes be nothing more than a one night stand, a brief date, or a quick kiss in the dark. Flashed! is a collection of 36 very short, "flash fiction" stories and a handful of love poems by J.M. Snyder, best-selling author of gay erotic romance. Each vignette is a glimpse into the lives and loves of very different couples. Some erotic, some bittersweet, every story in this collection celebrates a passion found only between two men.

From drag queens to college hoops players, veterans to rockstars, one time lovers to lifelong companions, men at work to men in tights, there's a little something for everyone in this collection. Some of these stories were once posted to the author's blog or appeared online elsewhere, but fans will find many new stories -- and characters -- to love once they've been Flashed!

EXCERPT:

Can I Just Say?

the taste of you still lingers on my tongue
can i just say
you taste like salt and the sea
and sticky taffy and sand
can i just say
you taste like summer and the rain
and hot pretzels drizzled with honey and mustard
can i just say
you taste like cola and the tears i cried
as you held me close on the beach
after we had sex even though i told you no

* * * *

DJ ‘N’ Mr. Yes

On weekends, the city’s pulse quickens in time with thundering hip-hop beats bleeding from the clubs out into the night. DJ follows the crowd, surfing from one party to the next, looking for the latest music, the trendiest clothes, the hottest bodies. He wants someone hard and tight, muscles barely sheathed by tanned skin, enough of an ass to grind up against in the dark. Someone to please him, someone to tease. Someone to take him in as far as he’ll go and beg for more.

He finds such a guy at a club downtown. Young, blond, hard abs beneath a mesh tank and arms that DJ could barely encircle with both hands. Eyes like the ice in whatever it is he’s drinking, and lips he licks wet when he sees DJ looking. The music moves him closer, each bump of his hips cranking DJ’s lust up another notch, until he’s rubbing his groin against DJ’s in welcome. His eyes ask that eternal question: “Where?”

DJ leads the way to the bathroom. In a cramped stall, DJ’s hands smooth up under the mesh tank, his tongue circling around pert nipples until the guy moans, “Yes.”

DJ works his way into those painted-on jeans, finds a thick erection and thumbs behind it, earning him another “Yes.”

A damp mouth on his, legs spread at his touch, hands fisted in his shirt when he raises those knees to ease inside that puckered hole, yes.

Hot breath in his ear, barely audible here, yes.

DJ pierces into him with rough thrusts, fucks into the warm, willing ass again and again. The skin that sheathes his cock shudders with the music, a fevered heartbeat that races into the night. Yes, and yes, and yes, until they both come in a sticky, heated rush.

Yes.

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"Car Trouble" by JM Snyder

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Car Trouble
by J.M. Snyder

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BLURB:
When Terrence Jackson's new Mercedes begins to act up, his secretary suggests he take it to a local auto shop she usually frequents. But a phone call to the shop's owner doesn't exactly instill him with confidence. Still, the place comes highly recommended ...

What begins as a bad day improves when he meets the mechanic. Dressed in a pair of tight, oil-stained jeans and little else, Jimmy exudes sex appeal. Terrence finds himself drawn to Jimmy, and soon it's not just his car being serviced.

EXCERPT:
The sudden ping of metal on metal is loud in the closed garage. Terrence whirls around. There's a blue Camaro behind him, parked in one of the far bays. As he heads in that direction, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks, he hears the shuffle of sneakers, a muffled curse. Closer, coming around the front of the car, he sees slim, denim-clad legs beneath the bumper, and one bare elbow sticks out from under the open hood. "Hello?"

He stops at the side mirror on the passenger side and ducks his head to peer under the hood. He sees light brown hair the color of iced coffee, smooth as a curtain that hangs down to obscure the mechanic's face. That hair is cinched loosely at the guy's nape with what looks like a spare piece of rubber tubing, tied into place to keep it from his face, but the knot isn't tight and the hair has slipped free to fall over slim, bare shoulders. Terrence isn't one for long hair on guys, but he likes the way those feathery strands wisp over firm, pale skin, and his hands clench into unconscious fists in his pockets.

Then the mechanic notices him and steps back, startled. "Hey!" he cries, surprised. His voice is unusually loud in the closed garage. "Didn't hear you come in."

White wires snake into his ears, and when he tugs them away, Terrence can hear tinny music through the earbuds. He lets his gaze travel down the mechanic's lean frame, over the smoothly muscled chest, the barely-there six-pack abs, the tapered waist, a pair of low-riding jeans that scarcely manage to cling to narrow hips. Just below the mechanic's navel, a scant dusting of fine hairs starts up, trailing into those jeans. A hand curls into the pocket of his jeans, pulling them down a little as he shoves the earbuds out of sight.

Then Terrence looks up and, for the first time, sees the face hidden beneath that flyaway hair. Deep eyes the color of caramel stare out from light skin, and full, ruddy lips spread into an easy grin. "Hey there, big guy," he says, his voice lower now that he doesn't have to shout over his music. "What can I do you for?"

Wouldn't you like to know.

Unbidden, the thought of those pink, chapped lips clamped around his thick, black cock fills Terrence's mind. He imagines fisting his hand into that soft hair, thrusting into that wide mouth, that taut body tight against his own.

Damn. What's he here for, again? And why aren't they naked already?

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BLACK HEART DOWN by S.J. Frost

Now Available at MLR Press

BLACK HEART DOWN by S.J. Frost
M/M Contemporary Erotic Romance
Published at MLR Press
Available in all ebook formats and soon in print

BLURB:
For Robbie Russo, only one man has ever owned his heart, Kyler Christenson. The years at each other’s sides never diminished his love for him, but with the rise to fame in their rock band, Black Heart Down, more than a few challenges hindered their relationship. Now, he’s reached a crossroads, either he’ll have all of Kyler, or he’ll walk away from everything they’ve built together.


Kyler may be fearless on stage, but if there’s one thing to send his heart crashing down, it’s losing Robbie. When Robbie delivers his ultimatum, Kyler’s willing to do what it takes for things to work. But change doesn’t happen quickly, and when he makes a terrible mistake, all their history together might not be enough to save their future.

EXCERPT:
*In this scene from Chapter 2, guitarist, Robbie Russo, is in the penthouse of his lead singer, Kyler Christenson, after being away for a while after they’ve argued*


Kyler went to the monitor and confirmed with the doorman that the pizza was his, then went back to the living room and handed Robbie the beer. “I’m going to change out of these things.” He gave the top of his pants a tug.

Robbie caught his movement, and also the large bulge pushing against Kyler’s pants. He flicked his gaze up to Kyler’s. “Alright.”

Kyler slowly turned away, walking toward a hall to go to the master bedroom.

Robbie couldn’t resist sneaking a look at Kyler’s ass in the leather pants. He reclined back on the couch, unconsciously running his hand over the supple black leather, then realized he was doing it and let out a frustrated groan, since he knew exactly what the gesture mimicked. He gazed around the room, attempting to distract his mind.

The tables were glass with stainless steel accents, the décor consisting of concert posters, Gold and Platinum records, two electric guitars, one acoustic. Everything cool, hard, rock star, like Kyler himself. Yet there was style and softness to the place also, like in the chairs and couch.

Robbie closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Now his thoughts had gone from bad to weird. He was analyzing Kyler’s furniture trying to gain insight into him. He had officially lost it.

A knock sounded on the door. Robbie started to get up, pausing halfway to standing as Kyler came back down the hall wearing an Indianapolis Colts T-shirt and blue workout pants. He’d taken his hair out of the ponytail and shook his fingers through the golden strands as he walked toward the door.

Robbie dropped back to sitting. When Kyler was dressed in trendy clothes, he always looked hot. But when he was like this, to him, Kyler was even more stunning.

Kyler paid for the pizza and dropped it off on the coffee table on his way back into the kitchen to get plates. “Go ahead and throw in whatever movie you want.” He smirked over his shoulder. “You know where the porn is.”

Robbie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, but unless you’ve bought some new ones, we’ve already watched them all.”

Kyler returned with the plates, offering one to Robbie. “True, but we’ve also never made it all the way through one. The second half of any of them would be like a whole new movie.”

Robbie stared at him. His heart pounded quicker. His cock, which he was sure hadn’t gone all the way down since getting around Kyler, hardened to its fullest. The intensity in Kyler’s eyes was a look he knew well, and it always defeated him. He’d never understand how he could want to deny him and have him at the same moment. But he couldn’t do both, so he’d have to choose which path to follow; his heart telling him to surrender to Kyler’s smile, or his mind telling him to keep things cool.

Robbie reached up to take the plate, but laid his hand more over Kyler’s. “You never gave me a welcome home kiss.”

Kyler wet his lips. “I was under the impression you didn’t want me to kiss you.”

Robbie pulled the plate from Kyler’s hand and set it on the table. He stood, leaving only inches between them. He angled his lips toward Kyler’s. “I always want you to kiss me.”

Kyler lifted one hand, sliding it to the back of Robbie’s neck as he leaned forward, whispering before their lips touched, “That’s good, because I always want to kiss you.”

A hushed moan sounded in Robbie’s throat. He wrapped his arms around Kyler. As their bodies pressed together, his chest met with Kyler’s, his hands explored the muscle of Kyler’s back. Kyler’s kiss was tender, his tongue gliding over his own in slow, deep thrusts. Each time they had tension between them, when they finally allowed their hearts and bodies to succumb to what they truly wanted, it was always like this, as if they were starting over, again and again. And yet even though things would feel fresh, underneath it all was comfort and familiarity.

Robbie moved one hand up Kyler’s back to toy with the ends of his hair. The gentle kiss was wonderful, but he wanted more. He wanted Kyler to unleash his hunger, his aggressiveness. Robbie dropped both hands to Kyler’s ass, grabbing hold of each cheek and jerking him forward so their hips pressed tight together.

Kyler broke the kiss, his voice breathless. “You won’t be getting any rest if you keep this up.”

Robbie lightly nipped Kyler’s neck. “I’ve changed my mind about that.”

Those words were all Kyler needed. He spun Robbie and pushed him down to the couch, following after him.

Copyright 2011 by S.J. Frost