Sunday, October 4, 2009

Where The Heart Is, now in PRINT!

Where The Heart Is is now available in lovely, molestable print! Yay! In honor of that, here's an extra-hot excerpt for y'all. Enjoy :D

© Copyright 2009 Ally Blue

Falling in love is easy. Holding on to it can tear your life apart.

(A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story)

When Dean Delapore takes a break from Bay City Paranormal Investigations, he doesn’t expect his work to follow him to the eclectic town of Carrboro, North Carolina. The chance to investigate a haunting at the Blue Skye Inn and Winery is more than he can resist, mainly because of the inn’s owner. Deceptively shy and gorgeous, Sommer Skye is not only fantastic company, he’s the best lay Dean’s had in ages.

As Dean probes the misty secrets of the haunted inn, he unexpectedly peels away the layers hiding Sommer’s private pain. Pain Sommer’s not sure he can withstand. By the time Dean realizes just how deep his feelings for the innkeeper run, it’s far too late to turn back.

Now if only he can convince Sommer that falling in love changes everything, maybe for the better. If the bones of the past can be laid to rest…

(Warning: This book contains a melancholy ghost, unusual jewelry, misuse of vegetable shortening and lots of hot, sweet manlove)


Heart pounding with anticipation, Dean watched Sommer watching him. Moonlight poured through the thin crimson sheers half-drawn across the big bay window, bathing the room in shimmering red-tinged light and throwing soft shadows across Sommer’s face. Furniture loomed in the periphery of Dean’s vision, and from the corner of his eye he saw a closed door on the other side of the room, but he couldn’t be bothered to look away from Sommer long enough to notice much else. Except the bed, of course. A four-poster, he noted with delight. He wondered if Sommer had any restraints.

Sommer moved closer, dark eyes boring into Dean’s. “Please tell me you’re a bottom.”

A shudder ran through Dean’s body. “Oh yeah,” he answered, his voice sounding weak and shaky in his own ears. “I’ll top if I have to, but I’d rather get fucked than do the fucking.”

“Good. Because I don’t bottom.” Sommer’s mouth quirked into a wry half-smile. “Can’t relax enough for it not to hurt.”

Dean wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that, so he said nothing. Instead, he undid the buttons of Sommer’s shirt. He spread the fabric so he could caress the bared skin. Coarse, dark hairs rasped against his palms and the pads of his fingers, drawing a soft moan from him. Finding one hard little nipple, Dean gave it a gentle pinch.

“Oh fuck,” Sommer gasped, his back arching. One hand clamped onto Dean’s shoulder, the other grasping him by the hair. “Bite it.”

Heat shot through Dean’s groin. He yanked the shirt down, forcing Sommer to let go of him long enough for the garment to slide down his arms to the floor. Letting Sommer push his head downward, he dug his teeth into the nipple he’d just pinched and gave it a tug. Sommer groaned, his fist tightening in Dean’s hair. Picking up Sommer’s cues, Dean bit harder, sucking and pulling. Sommer cursed and trembled and clutched at Dean’s hair hard enough to hurt. Humming his approval, Dean drew back to lick the bit of abused skin before switching his mouth to the other nipple. Sommer tasted clean and faintly salty with the sweat of desire, and Dean wanted to lap it all up.

He was so caught up in the feel of flesh bruising between his teeth, Sommer had to literally push him away. Sommer’s nipple came out of Dean’s mouth with an audible pop, and Sommer hissed. Dean straightened up, his gaze meeting Sommer’s. The intense desire there made him quiver inside.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Sommer ordered in a voice husky with lust. “Then lie down on the bed, on your back.”

Dean hurried to obey. He toed off his sneakers, undid his jeans and wriggled them down to his knees. Plopping onto the edge of the bed, he pulled his pants and socks off in a tangle of fabric. He hadn’t worn underwear, as he’d hoped for an encounter of the hot sex kind with Sommer. Judging by the look in Sommer’s eyes, it had been a good move.

Naked, Dean slid to the middle of the king-sized mattress and lay back, arms stretched languidly above his head, and gave Sommer a sultry smile. “What do you want, Sommer?”

Sommer licked his lips. “Spread your legs.”

Dean did as he was told, opening his thighs wide. He loved the way Sommer stared at him, like his body was a ripe, juicy fruit unexpectedly appearing before a man starving in a desert. His pulse raced, and he could smell the musk of his own lust. The part of his brain still functioning wished Sommer would stop devouring him with his eyes and start using that gorgeous mouth instead.

Holding Sommer’s gaze, Dean cupped his balls in one hand and grasped his stiff shaft with the other. “You want to watch me jerk off?”

Sommer blinked and started, as if coming out of a trance. “No. I just wanted to look at you for a minute.”

“Well, the way you’re looking at me is about to make me come.” Wetting the pad of one thumb in his mouth, Dean pressed it to the tip of his cock. He rubbed slow, tight circles against the tiny opening, sending electric shocks through his body. A rough moan tore from his throat. “C’mon, get over here.”

Dean hadn’t finished speaking before Sommer was suddenly there, batting his hands away and nuzzling between his legs. The speed with which the man moved was shocking. Soft lips closed over the head of Dean’s prick, slick tongue penetrating the slit, and he let out a sharp cry. His hands dug into Sommer’s hair. The strands felt cool and silky between his fingers. Sommer hummed and sucked Dean’s cock deep into his throat.

The squeal that emerged from Dean was far from dignified, but he didn’t care. Right then, nothing existed apart from Sommer’s warm, wet mouth on his cock, Sommer’s elegant hands kneading the insides of his thighs. Moaning, Dean hooked both hands behind his knees and pulled his legs up and apart, giving Sommer more room to play.

Sommer allowed Dean’s prick to slide out of his mouth, moved up and planted a moist kiss on Dean’s belly. Before Dean could summon the presence of mind to protest, Sommer reached up and traced his lips with his fingertips.

“Suck my fingers,” Sommer commanded, the right corner of his mouth lifting in a smile which managed to be sexy and innocent at the same time. “Get them good and wet, so I can get you ready to fuck.”

As often as he bottomed, Dean no longer needed much preparation. But if Sommer wanted to finger his ass, who was he to argue? Holding Sommer’s gaze, he parted his lips and let Sommer slide two fingers inside. The long, fine-boned digits tasted of something faintly spicy. Dean’s questing tongue found a callous on the first knuckle of Sommer’s index finger. He gave it a slow lick, enjoying the roughness against his tongue.

Once Dean had coated Sommer’s fingers with saliva, Sommer pulled them out of Dean’s mouth and slid them between his buttocks. “Keep yourself spread open for me,” Sommer whispered, rubbing one dripping fingertip against Dean’s hole. “You’re beautiful like this.”

It wasn’t the first time Dean had heard those words, or similar ones. He was a very attractive man, and he knew it. Lots of men and women had told him so. It was nice to hear, of course, but nothing new for him. Yet for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint, hearing Sommer call him beautiful sent his spirit soaring. Maybe because for the first time, the compliment seemed not only sincere, but without expectation. Something told him Sommer wouldn’t expect anything more from him than he was willing to give, unlike many lovers Dean had been with over the years.

Not that he could currently think of anything he didn’t want to give Sommer.

The feel of a finger pressing inside him shattered Dean’s half-formed musings. “Oooooh, oh God,” he groaned, hips canting upward. “More.”

Sommer obliged by pushing another finger into Dean’s ass. He leaned down and bit the place where the tendon on the inside of Dean’s thigh strained tight. Dean yelped. He twisted his head enough to see Sommer’s face. Sommer gave him a sinful smile, and licked the spot he’d just bitten. The bright moonlight revealed two dark semicircles glistening with saliva on Dean’s skin. That’s gonna bruise. He grinned, already picturing the purple marks he’d have the next day.

Inside him, Sommer’s fingers crooked to brush the sweet spot. Dean let out a wail. “God, fuck me!”

Sommer rubbed his cheek against Dean’s calf and twisted his fingers in Dean’s hole, drawing another sharp cry from him. “You’re awfully impatient,” Sommer observed. He wrapped his free hand around Dean’s cock and squeezed. “I’d rather not rush, if that’s okay with you.”

With a mighty effort, Dean managed to get out several nearly coherent sentences. “I can get it up again, just… Come, gotta… Too hot, you’re… What you’re doing… I, I can’t, I need… Fuck, just fucking get me off!”

To Dean’s supreme annoyance, Sommer laughed. Not fair! Dean’s pride screamed. He shouldn’t get to be all sweet and nice and last longer than me. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Put your hands above your head,” Sommer ordered, that ridiculously sweet smile lighting his face and forming a stark contrast to what he was saying. “Keep your legs spread.”

In an instant, lust and need blew annoyance out of the water. Dean did as he was told.

Sommer’s gaze skimmed Dean’s body, the motion slow and deliberate. Dean could practically feel the heat in Sommer’s eyes, like a flame licking his skin. When Sommer’s gaze met his, Dean felt truly naked for the first time in longer than he could remember. Naked and vulnerable. Spread like a feast, or a sacrifice. Lying there with legs splayed obscenely wide, cock hard and leaking, his soon-to-be lover kneeling mostly clothed between his legs with two fingers in his ass and a hand stroking his prick, Dean felt like Sommer’s sex toy. A plaything, something to be used as needed and ignored the rest of the time.

The kinkier parts of him loved that feeling. But the look in Sommer’s eyes said that to him, at least, Dean was no toy. Even if this ended up being just another one-night stand, Sommer clearly saw him as something more than a willing hole.
That scared him. Not least because it drew out the tiny spark of hope that this time it could be something more than a meaningless fuck. That hope lingered beneath the surface of every anonymous sexual encounter in every motel or apartment or club back room, just waiting for the right person to make it flare to life.

Dean didn’t want to think about that. Not now, with Sommer’s probing fingers and tugging hand bringing him closer and closer to the brink.

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