Sexy Me Up, #My Sexy Saturday


Here we are again for an excerpt for My Sexy Saturday. Here’s eight paragraphs from “Hitting Black Ice,” which is available from Loose Id. Hunter has a sexy crush on Shawn, not realizing Shawn is crushing him back.


Hunter had a crush, a big one.

In the cafeteria late one night on his break at the hospital, he sipped at coffee and focused on Shawn, the night desk clerk for the ER, sitting a few tables over. Long black hair tied back neatly and his eyes of faded denim blue. Shawn was lean, his face long and bony. Tonight he wore a brown turtleneck under a white and green-striped button down. The rolled sleeves revealed muscled forearms dusted with golden hair, as mismatched to the dyed black hair as his pale eyebrows and lashes. A silver skull ring and silver studs in his ears appeared at odds with the lanyard and dangling ID card.

Hunter drank more coffee, barely tasting it. He’d tried to talk himself out of it, but he couldn’t squirm away from the attraction. When Hunter had walked past the registration desk to the water cooler—again—or hung there a moment too long with an empty clipboard in his hands, he caught those tiny flicks of interest in Shawn’s eyes. Hunter must have given away his interest, because the nurses smirked at his pretended obliviousness.

Hunter bent to the not-very-engrossing crossword in the newspaper, imagining what tattoo might lie beneath Shawn’s cool demeanor. Maybe gargoyle wings across a broad and muscled back, or a snake wrapped around his thigh. Something more esoteric, a phrase in Latin, like Hunter’s own primum non nocere, or a bit of wisdom in Chinese characters. Or an old school Aerosmith tat? Hunter glanced up from filling in the little squares with black ink blocks. Shawn, Hunter could swear, hurriedly looked back down at the paperback in his hands. He turned the page and shot a second glance at Hunter—gazes locked and jumped away.


Heat rushed through Hunter all at once and climbed up to his face. Too aware of the black-haired man with biceps to die for, the tight ass to squeeze, and long legs to—well, never mind. Taking a boner back to the ER was not a good idea.

He had touched those biceps once when he gave Shawn a flu shot back in the fall. He’d taken Hunter’s needle without a flinch.

Shawn stood with his tray in hand and walked toward the trash container behind Hunter. The back of his neck prickled as if Shawn breathed on the little hairs there. Hunter picked up his coffee cup once more, but it was empty.

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