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“Why the hell are you out here and not in your fucking room doing that?” I asked my sixteen-year-old son, Linc.
Linc looked up from his homework, and shrugged.
The problem with Linc doing his homework out here meant that he had the TV blaring, his phone on some stupid Vine video, and his pencil tapping a million miles an hour while he hummed to some random song that only he could hear.
He was also nearly naked. Had been for the majority of his life.
He ignored me as if I hadn’t said a word.
“Seriously,” I said to him. “What makes you think it’s okay to sit here in your underwear with the fuckin’ front window wide ass open? There are people in this neighborhood that I’d rather not egg our shit. Not to mention you don’t pay the fuckin’ electric bill and it’s cold as fuck out.”
“They’d have to be able to walk close to our cars, and since most of them are old geezers, I don’t see that happening.” He countered. “What’s got up your ass?”
I grunted, walking to the kitchen to grab a beer. It’d been a long fucking day, and I had to go back to work and do it all over again tomorrow.
I was a welder for a pipeline, and my job was exhaustingly hard work that I fucking loved. I made a whack, and payed for my bills, but to do that I had to work long hours. Nearly eighty hours a week.
“Someone called for you today. A woman.”
“What was her name?” I asked, scanning the contents of the refrigerator for something to eat. “Did you eat all the leftover pizza?”
Linc and I had pizza a lot. Anything that was fast, and came out of a box, was our go-to menu item seeing as neither one of us really knew how to cook. Lunchables. Macaroni. Hamburger Helper when we were feeling adventurous.
“Ellen?” Linc guessed. “I wrote it down on the pad next to the phone.
The name ‘Ellen’ wasn’t common, but it was still impossible for a girl from my past—almost fourteen years ago to be exact—to come back and haunt me some two thousand odd miles away from where I first met her.
“What did she want?” I asked. “And you never answered me on the pizza.”
“That was gone last night about three in the morning.” Linc chuckled unrepentantly. “And I wrote it all down on the note.”
I closed the fridge and moved across the small space to the counter next to the landline that I wasn’t sure why we still had, and stared at the pad of paper with two words on it.
“Can I go?”
I looked up to find Linc, the boy that was spitting image of me.
Six feet one, and likely to grow even more since the pediatrician said he’d likely reach my height if not more. Jet black hair with a slight wave to it, exactly like mine.
Hell, he even had a beard, exactly like me. Though, his was much more trimmed and kempt due to the school he was attending informing him if it wasn’t done just so, he’d have to shave it or leave the school.
We’d had to fight for the beard, so if he wanted to keep it, he’d damn well follow their rules or I’d make him shave it off myself.
His body mass was the only thing he didn’t have yet that resembled me. He was much skinnier, and definitely on the verge of getting some bulk, just like I had been at seventeen. But he didn’t have it yet. He was still in that in between stage that showed the promise of what he might one day be.
Me, I was six foot four, two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, and had a six pack that was derived from days and days of hard work and sweat on the pipeline. I had a beard that was on the verge of being too bushy, but I’d literally lost all desire to impress anyone a long fucking time ago.
I was me. I wasn’t going to change, even though some would like me to.
“I’ll have to ask if it’s kid friendly…” I laughed when my son gave me a face that clearly said what he thought about me saying ‘kid friendly.’
My kid wasn’t a kid. He couldn’t be when he was raised by me.
I’d done my best, but I’d been more like a brother than a parent. We were seventeen years apart in age, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I did the whole parenting thing correctly.
He had to grow up faster than most. By the age of ten, I was leaving him at home for extended periods of time because I’d been switched to a different shift that equaled me not getting home from work until a little after nine o’clock.
By the age of twelve, he was spending almost the entire night alone every other day because my shifts were switched again.
By fifteen, we didn’t even pass each other for the entire day at times.
Now, at sixteen, I had a better paying position. One that equaled me working days, though they were long and just as tiring—if not more tiring—as my previous job. Being peoples’ boss was the pits. Dealing with peoples’ bullshit was even worse.
“You took me to the last one.”
I grinned. “That’s right. I did.”
“I can’t believe you’re prospecting. I’m so fuckin’ excited.”
I just shook my head.
My kid rolled his eyes at me and got up, walking toward me with a paper in his hand. “Read this and make sure it looks good.”
I grabbed the paper and read it, my heart tightening slightly when I read the words on the paper.
“You think I’m a superhero?” I asked quietly, my eyes flicking up to my son’s where he was leaning against the wall.
Linc looked at me, really looked at me, and nodded.
“Yeah, dad. I think you’re a fucking superhero.” He grated out. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here right now, now would I? My paper was on someone who inspires me to be a better person. That’s you, bitch.”
I grabbed my man-child into a headlock and brought him in close to me, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head before taking him down to the ground and tickling him like I used to do when he was six.
“Get out of here, kid. Let me read. You get your shit picked up outside or it’ll get stolen.”
My kid left, luckily putting pants on before he walked outside to pick up his football gear, leaving me to read a paper that was enough to bring a grown man to tears.
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There’s no such thing as too much fun…
Incredibly, immeasurably, categorically false.
Try: It’s all fun and games until someone ends up in the tabloids.
Kade Edenfield was rock royalty. If every rock god in history gathered for dinner, his seat would be at the head of the table. He was that good. His band was elevated to a level few ever reached, and he was having the time of his life.
Until one misstep too many landed him on the front page of every gossip rag around the globe, and the band’s label decided to saddle them with a PR priss whose sole mission in life was to suck the fun right out of his.
He wanted her gone.
Until he realized he just plain wanted her.
Aubrey Taylor didn’t ask to be assigned to babysit a band full of troublemakers, but she wasn’t given a choice. Wanted or not, she intended to fix the mess they’d made. She’d do it quickly, efficiently, and then she’d get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, after meeting their openly hostile singer—the one with the notoriously menacing stare—it was clear she was in over her head. When Kade made a point to challenge her at every turn, unafraid of using intimidation to get her to back down, she found herself in even deeper trouble.
While she ‘officially’ resented and feared him, their power struggle secretly turned her on.
She desperately wanted to win their little standoff, but what was she supposed to do when she realized she wanted him even more?
Cole Matthews hasn’t seen his childhood friend, McKnley Rhodes, for twenty-two years, and what he finds shocks him. She’s tired and beaten down, and he wants to fix that, just as he used to when they were kids. Cole’s the only one who can see she’s putting on an act by embracing her rock star persona. His new goal is to determine why and put an end to her torment.
Will McKnley let him in or will he leave her with no place to hide?
by Megan Lowe
vital to my life as writing is. I even majored in it at university. It was one
of the hardest things I’ve ever done, besides publish a book, but I loved it.
So when it came to writing, it was only natural it would find its way in there
Halestorm frontwoman Lzzy Hale (see the resemblance?). I first saw Halestorm in
concert in December 2015. Lzzy blew me away and I knew right then I wanted to
create a character that encompassed her awesomeness. I hope McKnley fits this
bill. But more than that, I wanted to write a book that was filled with as much
passion for music (and bike racing) that I am.
to Hide is a playlist I’ve compiled. All those songs are relevant to the
characters and story. However only one encompasses No Place to Hide perfectly. That song is called My Heart I Surrender by I Prevail. It’s
a tale of someone wondering about someone they used to know, used to love.
They’re just like Cole. They wonder if they’ll ever be with the person they love,
if they’ll ever be enough but know that no matter what, their heart belongs to
the person from their past.
both had pretty rough childhoods with less than perfect parents. Naturally, that
influences any adult relationship they have. For McKnley in particular, it’s
something she finds incredibly difficult to overcome. But this song shows the
depth of the other person’s devotion, of the faith they have that someday
they’ll be together.
I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to
this song, but it’s up there! I love it and I don’t think I could find a more
perfect song that describes No Place to
Hide. So take a listen and then read the book, you won’t be disappointed!
Megan Lowe is a lost journalism graduate who after many painful years searching for a job in that field, decided if she couldn’t write news stories, she would start listening to the characters whispering stories to her and decided to write them down. She writes primarily New Adult/Contemporary Romance stories with Sport and Music themes. She is based on the Gold Coast but her heart belongs to New York City. When she’s not writing she’s either curled up with a good book, travelling or screaming at the TV willing her sporting teams to pull out the win.
Morgana Drake has a problem. Her boss Henrik Payne.
He is short-tempered, self-centered, in dire need of a social life, probably an undiagnosed workaholic, and practically unbearable.
She wants to rip his clothes off. To slather him in vanilla buttercream frosting and lick it off him from toe to head, and especially in between.
How will she ever get ahead at the company if she keeps imagining her boss melting in her mouth?
Henrik Payne has rules. Rules to live by and especially work by. It’s not until his clumsy yet curvaceous assistant tests his resolve that he begins to see life isn’t all about rules.
He just hopes he can get through the day without accidentally fondling her.
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I checked my watch and noted the time, ten minutes until eleven o’clock. I had just enough time to give my cock a good spanking before Ken Brooks, the CFO, used the restroom for his daily shit storm. I’m sure Ms. Drake had learned by now to stay away from her desk when Brooks used the bathroom.
My orgasm was quick due to the use of one of my top fantasies about Ms. Drake. I had about ten different fantasy scenarios of her I used when I masturbated, and they were ranked by length of orgasm and time it took to hit the big O.
The one I used was ranked at number two. I would have used the first one knowing time was limited with Brooks nearing, but I wanted to switch it up. Anyways, I used number one in the shower this morning.
Number two was Morgana on her knees in my office, begging for my cock. She drooled as I told her to take all of it. I knew she wouldn’t actually drool in real life, but it’s my fantasy. In my imagination, she salivated all over the Captain.
I cleaned up, flushed, and then ran into Brooks just as I was washing my hands. He was boring as usual. He always discussed the weather. It’s cold. Bitterly cold. Chicago in the winter was frigid, everyone knew that. Why talk about it? He mentioned the sun and I didn’t care.
Once I was in my office, I opened my laptop and began checking my emails. One was marked urgent about the new Denton account. I realized I was going to need Ms. Drake to help me.
Having just orgasmed, being in the same room as Ms. Drake shouldn’t cause any problems. I got up and opened the door to find her with her head on her desk.
She popped up and stared at me. Those greenish eyes turned golden as they enlarged.
Here I was boasting about what a hard worker she was, and now she’s laying down on the job.
“Is this how you spend your day when you think I am not in the office? Just lying around.”
She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally shaking her head at me.
“The meetings for today got canceled, so it looks like I’m going to be here the rest of the day. Come inside my office; I need to go over some things with you.”
She mumbled something just as I turned to go back inside. The words ‘come’ and ‘bathroom’ were the only ones I caught.
I turned back. “What did you say?”
Her eyes darted around. “Uh, let me just run to the bathroom first.”
I nodded my head. “Okay.”
After a few minutes, she strolled into my office. Over the last few weeks, I had become accustomed to Ms. Drake’s stride. It’s average but with a little more swing in her hips and at times, bouncy. Perhaps that was why she tripped more often than others.
But right now her walk was cat-like, stealthy, with a heaping dose of confidence and cleavage. As she took her seat, her fingers tugged at her blouse, bringing my eyes down to her chest where they remained.
I hated it when she did that.
Forcing my gaze back to her face I wondered what I missed. Something was happening and I wondered for a moment if it involved me.
“Are you feeling alright, Ms. Drake? You look pale and you have a funny expression on your face.”
Her fingers continued to fondle her top but her eyes narrowed at me. “Oh I’m fine, Mr. Payne. One hundred percent, grade-A beef, fine. In fact, I think I’m a little hot. Do I look hot to you, Mr. Payne?”
One button. Pop.
Another button. Pop.
She shimmied slightly but enough to reveal a slip of green lace.
I swallowed. Hard.
“Ms. Drake, what are you doing?”
Her lips curved as if she was waiting for those exact words to tumble out of my mouth. I got the feeling she wanted something. I also got the feeling I would give it to her. My hand slipped to my lap as I adjusted my cock already stirring from his earlier binge.
He was insatiable.
“I was in the bathroom a little while ago.”
I nodded. “I know you asked to use it before we had this meeting.”
Did I drop something in there? Maybe she heard me talking to Brooks and wants in on that top-secret conversation about the sunny sky in winter.
I tried to hide my laughter.
What was she talking about? This woman was sexy and smart, but right now she might as well have been…wait, I think I got her meaning.
“The women’s bathroom you mean, right, Ms. Drake?” My eyes pleaded with her to open her mouth and say ‘yes, the women’s bathroom.’ Why would she not use the women’s restroom? That would be ridiculous, especially so close to Brooks’ time.
Her head turned slowly from side to side in a tormenting no. “No, the men’s. The woman’s restroom was being cleaned so I had to use the men’s. You know, the one where you wanted me to take all of your cock.”
Elizabeth Lynx writes romantic comedy with steam. She’s a recovering comedian. Wife and mother of the male species. Believer in love & laughter. Her life consists of preventing small catastrophes and wondering if a day will exist when she doesn’t have to fold laundry.