Effing Friday--Killer Thoughts

Hope you all had a happy Valentine's Day. I didn't post Wednesday Words this week so I'm shifting a fun excerpt to today. Happy Effing Friday. Ha!

Here's a steamy m/m excerpt from Killer Thoughts, a psychic romantic suspense with plenty of sexy scenes between the heroes, Ian and Owen. Killer Thoughts releases on Tuesday February 19th! Just five more days and counting. Enjoy.

He squirmed against Owen’s shoulder. “Let go, damn it.”

“Not yet, thief.”

Ian did his best not to shudder with pleasure. He loved when Owen called him that. Like an endearment, but more personal than baby or sweetie. And it fit, because Owen had caught him red-handed right before Linda Cavendish tried to kill him four months ago.

Owen tossed him onto the bed, and Ian scrambled to leave. Before he could move, he found himself cuffed and strung up like a sacrificial virgin. “What the hell?” Ian tugged at the cuffs affixed to chains bolted into the headboard. How had he missed those the last time he’d been by?

“I had them installed a few weeks ago. After your visit, of course.” Owen smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Now you’re going to tell me how you knew about Harry.”

“I, uh…”

Owen removed his shoes, and Ian watched, frozen, as the bigger man stripped him of his socks and then moved to his shorts. They’d come straight from the gym, so it wasn’t as if Ian wore layers of clothing. Embarrassing, because his dick stood out like a pike under that friggin’ nylon. Typically, Ian handled his lovers. They didn’t handle him. But Owen was different from the rest, in ways that unnerved Ian more than he felt comfortable admitting, even to himself.

Owen gripped him hard, and Ian nearly shot off the bed.

“Okay, now that’s sexual harassment,” he rasped when he settled back on the bed. His voice sounded shrill, and he hated the fact that he was hard and aching beneath Owen’s firm hand.

“Harry?” Owen said again, his eyes mean.

Oh shit. Ian felt Owen’s palm slide against his dampening shorts. “I saw the pattern, okay?” came out in a rush. “I was going to tell you he wasn’t right. I’d gone through some, um, financial documents and e-mails of his the last time I was here.” Ian sucked in a breath when Owen stroked him. “Jesus.”

“And?” Owen didn’t smile, laugh, or change the inflection of his voice.

Damn if that cool control didn’t make Ian want to come all over him. He pushed harder into Owen’s palm, overjoyed when Owen started jerking him off through his clothes.

“And I saw something…wrong. Harry was… Shit, Owen. Rub faster.” So of course the bastard slowed down. To Ian’s satisfaction, though, Owen sported some major wood.

“And?”

“And I went to Avery with what I thought.” Avery, the team’s prognosticator, a man who could see the future. “I asked him to focus for me, and he saw men try to kill you. They didn’t succeed. And then Tim was there, taking a bullet,” he said on a whimper when Owen slid his thumb over Ian’s slit.

Fuck, he was so wet. The thin fabric of his shorts looked damp, and he’d soaked his underwear. Oh God, in Owen’s own hand. Talk about a fantasy of epic proportions. Now if Owen would just take Ian’s shorts down and put his sexy mouth over Ian’s cock, Ian’s life would be complete.

Owen let him go. “So you knew but didn’t help me?”

Ian moaned. “I wanted to, but Avery told me not to interfere. I’d screw things up if I did, and you and Tim had it handled. If I did something, I might have killed you.”

Owen narrowed his gaze, his scrutiny intense.

Hopefully, he saw something good, because Ian was on fire to fuck. “Come on, dude. I did you a favor. I didn’t help, and we’re all good. I don’t suppose you’ll blow me?” Sure, he sounded overly hopeful. But a guy could dream.

To his amazement, the star of his daily fantasies didn’t say no. Instead, Owen stood and removed his clothing. Every last stitch, until he stood naked and hung like a fucking horse in front of Ian.

Ian tugged at his wrists, still constrained to the headboard. He wanted to touch that golden flesh, feel the warmth of skin against his palms. Like Ian, Owen had little chest hair. And what he did have was a golden blond, fine and so pretty around Owen’s hard nipples.

“Come on, sexy. Stop teasing,” Ian rasped.

“You’ve been a good boy,” Owen said. “So you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

“I knew you’d be into kink.” He’d read that one right.

“You need discipline.”

Uh-oh. “Um, wait. I meant kink-y, not like, full-on D/s shit.”

Owen’s grin scared the hell out of him…and nearly made him come.

“Now, now, my little thief. I think we can come to an understanding, don’t you?”

Owen tugged Ian’s shorts and underwear off, then lifted Ian’s shirt to his armpits, exposing his chest, which was much less impressive than Owen’s. Ian had some muscle but not much.

Trying to gain control over the situation, Ian tried again. He cleared his throat and prayed he sounded less hoarse than he thought he did. “So, Owen. You were telling me about the Kerrs. Jacob and Henry left. Carl…he wants to kill you, right?”

“We’ll discuss him later. Right now I need to fill your mouth. You talk too much, thief.”

Then, to Ian’s simultaneous horror and pleasure, Owen knelt on the bed and crawled to Ian’s side. He straddled Ian’s torso and walked on his knees up Ian’s body until his heavy balls rested over Ian’s mouth.

“That’s right, little thief. Time for you to steal from me again. How about this time, you take some pleasure, hmm?” Owen lowered himself over Ian.

“N-no condom?”

“No. I trust you keep yourself clean. Do you trust me?”

“You’re too controlling and careful to take a chance like that. Bastard.” Ian’s mouth watered. He so wanted a piece of this man, especially when Owen gave him a mean smile.

“Well, boy? Get to it.”

Ian was helpless to resist. He opened his mouth and sucked.

Killer Thoughts