As of tomorrow, we’ll have two weeks to Devour’s release day! ARCs are going out any day. We’re on the last stretch!
Have you pre-ordered your copy yet?
Until then, how about a spicier snippet? Have fun! 😉
Hollis couldn’t help touching Ian’s cheek again. “Is that why you can’t sleep? There are three men trained in protection, enough weapons to ward off a zombie apocalypse—I didn’t have to know Rowe long to know that’s how he rolled—and three big-ass dogs. You’re probably the safest man in Kentucky.”
“No,” Ian said, voice low. “That’s not it. Insomnia isn’t a new problem for me. I haven’t slept through a night in longer than I can remember.”
Hollis could only imagine why and even as he tried, the hard and fast pounding of his heart hurt. He worked to hold back a shudder, but it came off as a shiver instead.
“There’s that look again,” Ian said, shifting on the couch to face him. Studying him. “I hate that you know about my past, Hollis. My friends, they treat me with kid gloves and I don’t want that from you.”
“What do you want from me?” Hollis was very aware of the heat that roughened his voice and he loved the way Ian’s brown eyes grew hooded as he stared back.
“Things that never include gloves. Just warm. Bare. Hands.”
Hollis lost the ability to speak for a moment. He opened his mouth, closed it, wondered if spontaneous combustion was a real thing. Warm. Ian wanted warm hands. He put his under his thighs. “Give them a minute because it’s fucking freezing down he—”
He broke off, holding his breath when Ian moved. He opened the blanket and straddled his lap. The possibility of forming actual words became a distant memory at that point as Hollis pulled his hands back out. Ian’s weight on his lap, the closeness of his body—he’d wanted the man for so long, it felt like Christmas had come early in one fucking hot instant. Hollis got a quick glimpse of Ian’s naked chest before the blanket closed around them both, cocooning them inside together. Ian was slim, but he was nicely toned. He wanted to put his hands all over him. Hollis held still as all his blood raced to his dick. All he could feel was Ian’s ass cradling his cock, his warmth seeping into Hollis in the confined space, his innate grace as he lithely moved into a comfortable position.
This. This was the near-mystic power Ian had over him. And he’d known it would be there from the moment he’d seen him. Hollis’s heart picked up as Ian pressed one hand to his chest and stroked across, then down, his fingers playing over the muscles in his abdomen. Ian brought his hand back up, let go of the blanket, and clutched both of Hollis’s shoulders as he slid his crotch harder over Hollis’s dick.
“Warming up now?” Ian whispered, lifting an eyebrow.
(Below: Our faces during our plotting retreat for this book. )