A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ How Do You Ask For A Menage, Anyway?

The hot man:

Enjoy the weekly peek at romance cover model John Quinlan.  Something about that unbuttoned white dress shirt just does it for me. How about you?

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

The Quickie:

...is from the Carmine Club prequel, Breaking Glass, which now has a cover and is off to the editor. 

"I don't know what else to say, but I've gotta get Jill back. I've thought about this all night. I'm not insecure about much, but Jillian's my world." Dylan swiped at his face again and raked his nails along his jaw. “If she needs this…. Will you help me give Jill her fantasy?”

“My turn?” Went sat up and unlaced his fingers. Dylan nodded, a difficult feat because his heart was wedged in his throat. Dropping his hands to the edge of his desk, Went drummed his index fingers momentarily. "This won’t come as any big shock to you, but the idea of saying ‘I love you’ to a woman scares the ever-lovin’ hell outta me. I don’t have time to make partner and cure my fear of intimacy. But that night at the festival, when I walked up on you with Jill and she said ‘I want him too’, it hit me how perfect that could be." Swiping at a speck of dust Dylan couldn't see, he added, "You've known me since we were twelve, dude. I'm the last man on Earth you'd need to worry about taking your woman. But…."

Dylan only stared across the desk. Was Went saying ‘yes’, or leading up to ‘hell, no’? His heart stuttered. The rest of his plans hinged on his friend’s agreement. Finding another man was out of the question. Teague had been right. Went was the only man he’d trust. Jill wouldn't believe words, not after last night, but if he could prove—

"But goddammit, I'm sick of serial fucking. It just seemed like… like she wanted it… the three of us… that might be an outside-the-box solution." Shifting in his seat, Went looked about as miserable as Dylan had felt until sometime around sunrise, when he stepped outside to stretch his legs and realized he could fix everything. All he had to do was break something first—tradition. "That’s why I kissed her. But if it wasn't something you were into…. That’s what I shouldn't have to tell you. I’d never lay a hand on her without y—"

Dylan held up a hand. He’d known that all along. During the dark, silent days last August, when Jill asked for a spot to put up a studio just before they split up, he showed her several of his properties, but quoted a monthly price for the building next door at less than half the mortgage payment, to see if the pair hooked up. Joe was right; Jill and Went hadn't so much as gotten donuts and coffee together. He’d have heard about it if they had. "I'm sure I love her. I'm sure she wants the two of us at once. I don’t think I'll get her back any other way." Dylan lowered his eyes to the carpet and dragged his nails along the worn seams of his work jeans. "I couldn't say this to anyone but you. We've been friends since the sixth grade, but hell, all I could think was, what if she likes your equipment better than mine?"

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 I'll be posting a weekly chapter of a new story every week, starting April 1. Read the blurb for Guarding the Line here. 

Thanks for dropping in. Have a great week!