STORY EXCERPT

Bayley Mossygust stepped over the pile of rags blocking his path, curling his lip as he realized the guy was dead. Why hadn’t he thought to ride over? He hated this part of town. He sighed. Winter had claimed another sad soul…aided, from the stench, by a strong addiction to Stomp, a drug that grabbed hold of your senses and annihilated them one by one. Great start to a new century.

He hated this place. Earth. A cesspit of hate, conflict, and struggle. Who the fuck had thought evolution was such a good thing anyway, letting primates evolve just a little too much so they figured out how to hide their primitive side behind a veneer of civilization? Add in a toxic mess of biological weakness, an affection for the worst things in life, plus sheer stupidity, and you had humans. A race who were worse than the naughtiest primates. No chimpanzee had ever created so much of a mess. They weren’t that intelligent.

He snorted. Give it a few more millennia, and the chimps would probably follow suit anyway. They were capricious and predictably mischievous, not to mention territorial, not to mention excellent mimics. Yep. Give it another few years and they’d have a planet full of the fuckers.

A garbage truck swooshed through the slushy, splashing Bayley’s new boots. He cursed, shaking one foot. Bloody humans.

“Hey there, fairy boy, gimme what you got.”

Sighing, Bayley turned to confront the stocky bruiser who’d stepped from a dank alleyway. Fucking humans.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly, eyeing the unkempt man contemptuously.

“Money. Now. Gimme.”

“So eloquent,” Bayley replied, planting his size tens in a fighting stance. Beckoning, he spat on the pavement at the man’s feet. “What if I don’t want to ‘gimme’?” There was an air of despair emanating from his aggressor. Desperation made people do stupid things.

The man scowled, slowly processing Bayley’s refusal, his green eyes bleary and blood-shot, then swore. “Gimme your watch and your money.” He brandished a knife, slashing at Bayley warningly.

Bayley lashed out with his boot, catching the aggressor in the testicles, following through with a brutal kick that had the knife flying away, hitting the guy’s wrist with a satisfying crunch. The guy folded instantly, spewing up as he went, clutching his arm.

“Clean up, get sober, then come back and I’ll try to help,” Bayley told him. “I may be able to give you work.” He tossed a small plastic card in the pool of vomit. “Call me when you’re ready to earn your keep. I don’t give freebies.”

He stalked off, disgusted he’d found even a smidgen of sympathy. But he’d read the sop’s mind. A wife who’d died after a long illness, his kid killed in a drive-by shooting not long after, his other kid kidnapped five years ago. Then losing a secure job because he’d had to attend two funerals in two weeks, and his employer “didn’t do charity or sympathy.” The guy needed a break. Irritatingly, he’d felt something more…something far more disturbing. Faeries knew when they’d found “the one.” He hoped like fuck he was wrong. He needed a fucking drink.

* * * *

Robbie Poole stared after the tall stranger, groaning in both shame and the pain of alcohol withdrawal. Had the guy just offered him a fucking job? No way. He peered hazy-eyed at the card, then gave up trying to decipher it, scooping it from the puke, and wiped it on his dirty pants. What was one more stain? He read the card again.

Faerie Coalition — Working for Freedom, Security, and a Brighter Tomorrow.

He blinked at the writing. Fuck! He’d just collided with the coalition. His last binge-drink must have been a doozy if he could mistake the man for anything but a hard-core kick-ass. He’d been joking when he’d called the man fairy boy. But this was one of the elite soldiers who’d emerged after the Third World War fifty years ago. The war had ravaged the planet after the Klan and their allies managed, briefly, to run riot, en masse, murdering millions in their bid for world domination. Three years of sheer terror, forever etching their mark, scarring all those who’d survived. The aftermath wasn’t much better.

The faerie had disappeared. Dammit. His thick black leather duster had shouted tough guy, his kick-ass boots the kind that took no prisoners. Long legs clad in stark black ripped denim, eyes shielded by mirrored shades, even at this time of night, to disguise his eyes, probably. Faeries tried not to advertise their heritage…lots of drama otherwise, since a lot of people despised them, blaming their race for leaving the planet in disarray after the Third. Like it was their problem to clean up the mess. They’d stopped the Klan, hadn’t they? A group that should never have risen to power. Faeries weren’t the problem…humans were to blame for most atrocities on Earth.

Robbie focused again on the card, then glanced across the street at a 24-7 laundromat, devoid of people, and fished for the change in his pocket. Fuck it, but he had a mission…a purpose. When had he forgotten he had a son out there, lost for years?

He was desperate for a drink, but something about the faerie’s curt words had struck a chord…that and the utter embarrassment of mugging someone on the street for the price of a slug of booze. It was official. He was at rock bottom. His late wife, Charlotte, would be mortified. Charlotte would’ve kicked him back to the gutter and left him there.

ADULT EXCERPT

“Took you long enough.” Robbie was pounding away at the rowing machine, three miles into an eight-mile slog. He’d felt Bayley’s presence the second the faerie had entered the gym.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Whatever.”

Bayley grunted, wandering around. Robbie kept tabs on the annoying prick, secretly happy to see the big lug. He’s missed sparring with Bayley but had needed the time to reflect. He’d been expecting Bayley to annoy him sooner.

“So, er, did you have questions for me?”

“Will you answer?”

“Yes.”

Robbie rowed silently for two miles, enjoying the steady rhythm, gathering his thoughts.

“What happens if we decide to do it?”

Bayley shot him an irritated look.

“I told you.”

“No. You gave me worst-case scenario. Surely not all human-faerie bonking ends up with the human dying?”

“No. Not all.”

“How many?”

It was Bayley’s turn to remain silent. For about three seconds. “I don’t know.”

Robbie made it to mile six, growing angry. “Right. Do you think maybe you could find that out? Asking for a friend.”

The irritating faerie stood in front of Robbie, his swirly blue gaze intent. “You want me to ask? That means going public. I didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Your problem is you try to think for everyone, but don’t bother asking,” Robbie shot back, his pace increasing in tune with his temper. “You just take. The kisses. The masturbation. Everything.”

“You really want me to ask.”

“I really do. Unless you’d like me to ask around?”

Bayley’s eyes closed, a flush blossoming. Robbie bit back a grin. The prick was embarrassed. Perfect. How did he think Robbie had felt, admitting he was horny about a male faerie? Talking about it in front of Callum? Prick!

“I’m reliably informed that five humans have expired during the bonding process.”

Robbie stared at Bayley, dumbfounded. “In how long?”

“Since it was a thing between humans and faeries.”

“How. Long.”

“Five thousand years.” Bayley’s flush deepened. “Which is actually how old I am in human years. Five hundred is my faerie age.”

A growl escaped Robbie’s lips, his thoughts on the first bombshell, not the second. What the fuck?

“And what happens if a human fucks a faerie?”

Bayley scowled. “It’s never happened.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because faeries don’t let humans fuck them, that’s for fucking why.”

Robbie launched off the machine, punching Bayley in the stomach. “Well. If you want us to be together, it’s going to be an equal partnership kind of thing. It’s the twenty-second century in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I know what fucking year it is, asswipe.” Hauling Robbie close, Bayley scorched Robbie’s lips with a kiss as passionate as any before it. Hard and hungry, he devoured Robbie’s mouth, tasting every inch, nipping his lips like crazy, then diving for more. Robbie moaned, wrapping his sweaty legs around Bayley’s jean-clad ass, rocking against the solid wedge of Bayley’s engorged cock.

“Bed,” Bayley gasped, running out of the gym, still kissing. Robbie was vaguely aware his big faerie was going a different way. To his own quarters? Sure enough they arrived in super quick time in a room that was sparse yet lovely. Rich earthy tones, flowers everywhere, and a big, comfy bed.

Robbie yelped as he was thrown onto the bed, his shorts and T-shirt disappearing, his shoes and socks departing a second later. Naked, he watched, mesmerized, as Bayley stripped the old-fashioned way, revealing his perma-tanned body in all its glory. Ripped as fuck, Bayley’s physique was stunning, his cock long and thick, the rest of him sculpted like some bronzed god of old.

Bayley crawled up the bed, taking Robbie’s cock between his lips, sucking furiously. A sharp scream left Robbie’s lips. He couldn’t focus, concentrated on the heady pull of Bayley’s mouth around his dick. So fucking good. Grasping Bayley’s short hair, he massaged Bayley’s scalp, fingering the faerie’s pointy ears, hearing a low moan from his lover. A pleasure zone? He tried again, feeling the shudder going through Bayley, smirking at finding a weakness.

“Not a weakness, douche. It tickles.”

“Let me fuck you and I’ll stop.”

Bayley nipped the end of his cock, forcing a low groan of pure bliss from Robbie. “Oh god. Do that again.” Sharp teeth dug in again, then Bayley swirled his tongue around the corona, dipping in for a dose of pre-cum, then took a long, slow pull that had Robbie erupting, dousing Bayley’s throat with seed.

Popping off, Bayley smirked up at him, then lifted his legs, spreading him wide. “I haven’t finished playing with you yet.”

Robbie’s eyes widened, his body humming from orgasm, then he let loose a loud yell as Bayley swiped his tongue right along Robbie’s sweaty crack. Fuck, but that was so dirty. Again and again Bayley lapped at him, parting his cheeks, then dove at his hole. Clutching at the sheets, Robbie whimpered as his rosebud was assaulted in the most erotic of baths as Bayley licked right around the rim, then dove in for a deeper taste. Robbie’s cock thickened, his body trembling with need, legs hooked over Bayley’s shoulders. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Too much. Far too much. His eyes crossed when Bayley buried his face in Robbie’s crack, tongue fucking him like crazy, then nipped one cheek, hard, branding Robbie.

Bucking, Robbie came a second time, panting hard, his dick spurting so hard he tasted his own cum. Licking his lips, dazed, he felt Bayley’s low moan, then the rough texture of his tongue over his abs, cleaning him up.

“You’re delicious,” Bayley murmured. “Sweeter than last time.”

“What did you just do?”

“Rim job, baby cakes.”

“When can you do it again?”

Robbie was boneless, sinking into the pillows. He couldn’t move if he wanted to, vaguely aware of Bayley cuddling close, one long leg thrown across Robbie’s as he drew the sheets up over them.

“Sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”