Happy Monday everyone! I'm still on vacation, but I just had to take a little revenge on my "Disgruntled Assistant" aka Tina for breaking and entering my office last week.
How am I going to do that? Well, it's easy. My assistant has a, shall we say, fetish for one of the heroes in my WIP. So I'm going to share a snippet from his book...one that does
not include the object of her obsession, Sam Carrington. *Rubs hands together* Hehehe. I'm evil like that.
I hope you enjoy the snippet. Goodness knows that she won't!
Have a wonderful week. I'll be back home in just a few more days. Until then, don't do anything I wouldn't. XOXOXO!
Love and cherries,
-Mia
Unedited Excerpt from WIP
Sixty-nine
miles away, in Serenity...
Groaning, Brett
Monroe finished his last set of crunches then flopped onto the floor, cringing
when his sticky back met the white carpet. Probably
should've picked a better place. Ethan is going to be pissed with a capital P if
I stain his precious flooring.
Brett rolled his
eyes. Since when had he ever given a fuck about pissing off Ethan? Hell, half
the time he was trying to piss off his best friend. Or lover or whatever he is this week.
Brett growled in
the silence. Being friends with benefits sucked. He would love to hunt down the
idiot who'd come up with that term and kick him in the nuts. Maybe then, he
would keep his dick in his pants. Maybe I
should be the one to keep my dick locked up.
Making a disgusted
sound, he rolled over and pushed himself off the floor. Enough with this bullshit. I have things to do.
Only he didn't, not
really. He was home alone—again. Ethan was at Her Majesty's Pleasure tending
bar, where he spent most nights now that Sam was missing in action. The
infuriating man refused to replace their...Shit,
I don’t even know what to call Sam—employee,
friend, family member? What?
Brett shrugged. He
figured it didn't matter either way. Sam was gone, and that was that.
Grabbing the
shirt he'd been wearing off the couch, Brett wiped the sweat from his face and
neck before heading to the shower. However, he didn’t make it that far. When he
passed Sam's old bedroom, he stopped and stepped inside.
The damn room
looked exactly like it had when he and Ethan had returned home from their
Thanksgiving trip a few months ago. They’d practically begged Sam to go on the
holiday vacation with them, but he’d refused. They hadn’t understood—until they
came home and found him gone.
Strolling around
the room, Brett tried to remember everything that had been there before Sam
left. Even though it was silly, he wanted every detail ingrained in his mind.
He didn’t want to forget. Since pretty much everything was gone, forgetting
seemed far too easy to him. And he didn’t like that prospect one damn bit.
Moving around the
room at will, Brett was drawn to the bed. Or he should say that he was lured to
what he knew was lying on top of the comforter, the one and only thing Sam
hadn’t taken—a picture of the three of them together on a camping trip as teens.
Nearing the photo,
Brett did something he rarely did. He picked up the frame and looked at the
image inside it. Instantly memories flooded his mind, causing his heart to ache fiercely in his chest. But still, his lips twitched against his will, curving upward in a fond smile.
That camping trip should have been the biggest fucking disaster
because it had stormed the most God-awful storm. Yet it hadn’t been. Shit, looking back, that night of male bonding had probably been the best night of his life—at least, up until that point. Neither he nor Sam or Ethan had minded the torrential downpour or the ear-splitting claps of
thunder. No, they’d been together. And that was all that had mattered. Just the three of them against the world.
"Remembering
the good times?"
Ethan's voice from
the doorway startled Brett, and he lost his grip on the frame. "No,"
he growled.
“Liar,” Ethan
accused, stomping into the room.
"Why aren't
you working?"
"I shut down
early."
Brett snorted.
''Bullshit."
"Fine, I
hired a new guy in town."
Brett’s head
snapped up at Ethan's announcement. "What?"
Glancing away,
Ethan shrugged. ''I figured I might as well do it. Sam isn't coming home,
and no one will tell us where he went. So I say, Fuck it."
Brett grimaced.
They'd tried their damnedest to find Sam, but they hadn't had any luck. His two
friends Deke Andrews and Brooklyn Sokolov had made sure of that. With enough
money and a psychic, anyone could disappear. "Why the sudden change?"
Ethan ran a hand
through his stylishly disheveled blond locks. "I don't know. The new guy
needs a job, and I'm tired of working sixteen hour days."
"I'm tired of
it too," Brett grumbled without thinking. "We never get to spend time
together anymore."
Ethan slid his
hunter green eyes to Brett, sensuality seeping from their depths. "Are you
saying you've missed me, big boy?"
Brett’s cock
stirred to life, twitching furiously in his pants. "What do you think?"
“I think you're
full of shit,” Ethan declared as he cut eye contact then dropped down onto the
side of the bed.
"What?"
Leaning back,
Ethan braced himself on his elbows. His new position gave Brett a better look
at his fit body. The tight blue shirt he wore clung to the hard contours of his
chest and the flat slab he called a stomach. And the low-riding jean he
preferred molded to his lean hips and long legs. His long, hard, strong legs. The ones that go on for days and feel so damn good wrapped around my back as I plow inside him. Oh my God. No.
Brett ground his
teeth together, trying to hold back his aroused groan. Then he lifted his gaze to
Ethan's smirking face. ''Don't push me, pretty boy."
Oh yeah. That
fixed Ethan. He clamped his jaw shut then flipped Brett off.
“That’s what I
thought,” Brett gritted out.
“You know what?
I’m not playing around anymore,” Ethan said as he shot himself off the bed and
stalked toward Brett. “We’re fucked without Sam. You know it, and I know it.”
Unwilling to back
up even a step, Brett stood firm. “News flash, Ethan. We figured that out months
ago.”
“No. I mean us.”
Shit, Brett knew
exactly what Ethan meant. They couldn’t be together without Sam, not the way
they had been. It just wasn’t right. “This is fucked up, E. Sam wasn’t sleeping
with us when he was here. He had the No
Fuck Zone going on, unless there was a woman between us. Now he’s gone, and
we both have the NFZ permanently
etched on our asses.”
Ethan pinned him
with a frigid look. “Tell me you don’t miss him. Tell me you don’t love him. I
dare you.”
