Hello and Happy Friday! I have two very special dates coming up this weekend. One, my birthday is Sunday! I've finally reached the Big 40. And... It's The Sergeant's Five Year Anniversary! Wow. I can't believe it's been five years since I first started this self publishing journey and set Logan and Clay loose on the world.
Over the next few days, I though it'd be neat to share a few Cuffs, Collars & Love throwbacks and extras, plus do some giveaways! To start, I have a short for Logan and Clay, written for The Sergeant's One Year Anniversary. Clay decides he wants to try being the Dom for the night and switch-a-roo sexy times ensue. The prompt was provided by Denise over at Two Chicks Obsessed. Please check out their blog. They have amazing recs and reviews. Okay, without further ado I present to you - For One Night Only
Logan lay back in his big bed. His submissive, Clay, lay across his chest. Logan gently brushed his fingers through the silky, dark curls of Clay’s hair as they both caught their breath. They’d been together for nearly seven months now. But their love for one another hadn’t faded and neither had their passion. Logan looked down as Clay propped himself up to look at him. The beautiful flush had faded from his face, but his blue eyes were still soft, his lids still low.
“Do you think we’ll still be this rambunctious in bed when we’re old?”
Logan arched a brow. “We’ve only been together for seven months and you’re talking about us being old? I’m still in my prime.” Clay dug an elbow into his ribs, making him wince. “Ow!”
“Sorry,” Clay said. But the sparkle in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t really. “You know what I mean. Do old people still play? Or will we start having vanilla sex all the time?”
Logan laughed. “Would that bother you?”
Clay’s eyebrows shot up. “Now that you’ve shown me sprinkles, caramel and whipped cream? Hell yeah it would.”
Logan laughed again. “There are plenty of D/s couples who play well into their golden years. I’m sure we’ll be just the same.”
“Good.” He closed his eyes for a second, taking in a deep breath. Then his eyes popped back open. “Don’t go getting any ideas with the ice cream. I’m not really into food-play.”
“Is that right? You didn’t seem to mind the last time I ate ice cream off of you.”
A/N: Hello! Since it’s Wrestlemania week, I thought I’d share an old wrestling slash fanfiction of mine for Fiction Friday. It’s PWP – Porn Without Plot / Plot? What Plot?, so don’t open on your computer at work. ?
The first part of this was written around early 2013, when I was actively writing fanfiction. At the time I was a big Dean fangirl and really into the Ambrollins – Dean Ambrose & Seth Rollins – ship. Part one was written as a prize for my good friend, Amanda. They gave me a song to set the writing mood – Depeche Mode’s I Feel You. It was a great choice and really helped build the scene in my head.
Part two was written as a response to Dean switching up his ring gear and sending his fans into a tizzy as a result. Other than combining into one doc and adding a few commas, this fic has not been changed from its original posting – so you can see a bit of what my earlier writing was like. I hope you enjoy!
Dean walked up the stairs to his third-floor apartment. The black flak jacket he carried in his hand was light, but it felt heavy. Heavy as the anger that pressed against the back of his eyes. He walked across the small apartment into his bedroom, following the sound of running water. The door to the bathroom was open, steam curling out to greet him in a thick mist. Dean yanked the shower curtain back. Seth shook the water from his face and looked over his shoulder at him.
“Where did you go?”
Seth arched a dark eyebrow. “All night?”
“Yes, all fucking night.”
Seth turned his back to the water but he kept washing himself. Dean’s eyes followed Seth’s hand as they rubbed the bar of soap across his chest, down his belly, and to his sex. He stayed there, washing slowly, bubbles rising and tangling in the dark thatch of curls. His long fingers dipped lower to cup the heavy sack that hung between his legs, washing that area just as slowly. Dean lifted his eyes back to Seth’s. “You’re clean enough. Get out of the goddamn shower so we can talk about this.”
But instead of turning around to face the shower head to rinse off, Seth arched his neck back, way back so that the water splashed into his face and ran down his chest and lower to rinse all the soap away. Dean turned his back on the display. He wasn’t going to let the delicious sight of a wet and naked Seth distract him.
My rambling and not at all edited thoughts on romance novels, writing, and pop culture.