Hello, everyone! Thanks for joining me on my Doubtless blog tour. (Didn’t I just do this last month? And the month before, and the month before that…) Leave a comment and you might win one of my backlist books!
Doubtless isn’t your typical romance – in fact, it’s more of a story about unrequited love and self-discovery – but that doesn’t mean it’s lacking in steamy encounters. Here’s a taste to whet your appetites . . .
It was murky inside [the club], except for the eerie glow of black lights that sent ghosts dancing over Steve’s eyeballs. The bar spanned the left wall, customers packed in three deep, waving money, trying to get the bartender’s attention. A dance floor ringed with tables stood right and center. Vision still adjusting, Steve followed as Dylan deftly elbowed his way through the crowd, leading him to a postage-stamp-sized table.
“Double scotch, right?” Dylan said, not bothering to wait for Steve’s nod before heading back to the bar, the crowd immediately swallowing him up.
Steve pulled out a wobbly chair and sat down, bass-heavy dance music blasting his eardrums from a speaker in the ceiling directly above. He was well on his way to a pounding headache by the time Dylan returned, drinks in hand. “Thanks,” he said, saluting Dylan with his glass before downing half of it in one gulp.
He hadn’t even realized he’d clenched his hands until Dylan’s warm, soft fingers closed over his and slipped something into his palm.
“Aspirin,” Dylan said, leaning over the table so Steve wouldn’t have to strain to hear him. “Want me to get you some water?”
Steve shook his head, knocking back the pills with another mouthful of scotch. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I have to look after my date, right?”
Date? There went that weird zing! again—especially when Dylan flashed him that devastating smile.
“Mind if I ask you something, Steve?”
“Why did you invite me to dinner the other night?”
Steve’s hands clenched around his glass. It was a simple question, so why was he at a loss for an answer?
“I, I guess because . . . well, I wanted the company,” he said finally. “You’re an interesting guy, and I’ve enjoyed our conversations—”
“But you haven’t fucked me yet. Why?”
He blinked, mouth instantly dry. “Uh, I’m not—”
“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate being wined and dined as much as the next guy, but you really don’t have to. I’m what you’d call a sure thing.” His hand covered Steve’s again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Or are you the kind of guy who likes a little romance first?”
Dylan stood without waiting for an answer and tugged Steve along with him, leading him out onto the dance floor. Wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close, swaying to the slow, bluesy tune pouring from the speakers. Still half in shock, Steve stood there with his heart pounding, his cheek grazing Dylan’s. Inhaled the scent of his cologne until the blood roared between his ears, and it was all he could do to sink his fingers into Dylan’s crisp white shirt and hold on.
The throbbing between his temples slowly began to subside, the music washing over him, seeping into his bones. Up went his arms, looping loosely around Dylan’s neck. Scotch-scented breath wafted over his cheek, followed by a rough rasp of stubble—ginger stubble, just like Connor’s—then the touch of lips on his, warm, moist, and utterly devastating . . .
His knees buckled, the floor dropping away, heady euphoria washing over him, practically drowning him, his heart thrashing in his chest . . .
Then those soft lips were gone—no, not gone, feathering across his cheek, pausing to nip at his earlobe, strong supple hands smoothing up his trembling back. “It’s okay, baby,” Dylan whispered. “I’m going to take good care of you, you’ll see.”
You can order Doubtless here: http://www.riptidepublishing.com/titles/doubtless
Loving your best friend is hard . . . especially when he's marrying someone else.
On the surface, Steve Campbell seems to have it all: a beautiful home, a snazzy car, and a dream job as one of the country’s top 3-D optics researchers. But underneath, he’s restless and dissatisfied, tired of empty encounters with leggy lab assistants and endless evenings alone.
A chance meeting with a handsome escort lifts Steve’s spirits and opens his eyes to his long-repressed attraction to men—and his love for his best friend and business partner, Connor Morrison.
Connor might’ve loved Steve like that once, but now it’s too late for their happily ever after; Connor’s about to ask his boyfriend to marry him. Fortunately, it's never too late to learn about yourself, and maybe Steve can find a happy ending on his own.
EPIC Award–winning author Cat Grant lives by the sea in beautiful Monterey, California, with one persnickety feline and entirely too many books and DVDs. When she's not writing, she sings along (badly!) to whatever's on her iPod shuffle, watches lots of movies, and fantasizes about kinky sex with Michael Fassbender.
Where to find Cat: