I know I said Friday would be the day I post a new flash fiction piece, but the one I’m working on now is slated for the Love Is Proud charity anthology so I can’t share it just yet.
So I thought I’d share a brief scene from my latest short story, One on One in the Studio.
While the story doesn’t officially come out until next week, it’s available for pre-order on many sites and is out now on Amazon.
It’s a contemporary interracial erotic romance with a lengthy — and hot! — sex scene that’s pretty intense. This excerpt is taken from there.
Former teen actor Joey Angel is all grown up, and now he’s trying to make a name for himself as a singer. His pop album was a big hit with female fans, but he wants street cred, and to get it, his agent books a session at Killa Whatz Studios with DJ Key.
DJ Key, a.k.a. Key Jay, a.k.a. Kian Jordan, is only one of the biggest names in hip hop. Joey’s been a fan of Key’s forever, and is thrilled — and a little intimidated — to be asked to collaborate on a new song with the myth, the man, the legend. Things get off to a rocky start when Joey discovers he isn’t the only guest in the studio. The two other rappers aren’t pleased to find a white kid crashing their air time, either.
Key manages to smooth things over, but Joey finds it hard to concentrate on the song after such a bumpy start. When Key gets him alone for a little one on one in the studio, can he help Joey relax enough to make their collaboration a success?
Key leans forward into Joey’s personal space, the heavy scent of his cologne swirling in after him a moment later. “I know what’s happening here,” he murmurs, his voice so low, Joey has to lean in a little, too, just to hear it.
“What?” Joey whispers.
The hand on his thigh finally makes its move, sliding all the way up his leg and into the fold of his hip. Key’s fingers press down on Joey’s sheathed dick, rubbing the outline through his shirt and jeans. His smile widens, his teeth flash. Giving Joey’s cock a faint squeeze, he says, “We both know what this all about, don’t we?”
Key leans in closer still and cuts Joey off with a kiss. It’s unexpected and quick — a press of lips, a hint of tongue, nothing more — and before Joey knows what’s happening, it’s over.
“You feel it, too. Don’t front wit’ me.” Key’s breath is soft against Joey’s cheek. He steals another kiss, this one a bit firmer, with more tongue. “Well, I got rid of the others so it’s finally down to just you and me. So let’s do something about this before the others come back.”
He pushes into Joey, hungry, his hand gripping the outline of Joey’s dick with an almost painful need. Pleasure spikes through Joey, shooting from his cock to his balls and up his spine like an electric pulse. When Key cups his crotch, Joey spreads his legs, offering himself to the Deej. He’s dreamed of this moment forever, it seems, but all of his fantasies pale in comparison to the taste and feel of the man before him now. Key’s trim beard is rougher than Joey would’ve thought where it rubs against his smooth chin, and the fingers kneading into his crotch, searching for his zipper, are greedier than he could’ve imagined.
And he never would’ve thought a hip, sexy man like DJ Key tastes like teaberry chewing gum.
The minty flavor almost takes his breath away. Key’s tongue tingles from the gum, and where it touches Joey’s lips and teeth and the inside of his cheeks, it leaves a lingering sizzle. Even after Key pulls back, Joey still feels that tongue inside his mouth, still tastes the ghost of wintergreen filling his senses.
There’s a faint sigh as Key unzips Joey’s jeans. Suddenly the tight denim that’s been keeping him confined all day is gone, and in response his stiff dick thrusts through the gaping fly, tenting his briefs. The damp tip rubs against the inside of Key’s wrist, eager for attention. Key takes it in his hand and, placing his thumb under the flared head, squeezes the tip.
Joey rises off the stool with a delirious gasp. “Oh, my God, yes.”
“You like that?”
“Mmm.” Joey bites his lower lip, not trusting himself to reply.
Key pushes Joey’s jeans open wider, exposing more of his briefs. Then he dips his hand into the fly of Joey’s undies and guides Joey’s swollen cock out through the gap. “Aww, yeah.” He leans down between Joey’s legs and licks away the come beading on the flared tip.
Joey squirms at the heat of Key’s tongue on his most intimate of places. Oh God, oh yes, oh please, his mind rambles, a mantra he can’t turn off. Key dips in again for another taste of him, mouth open this time to take him in, and Joey scoots back to watch, he wants to see, he’s ready to shoot his load just thinking about those thin lips closing around his shaft, he feels like he’s been waiting his whole life and now they’re here, this is it, he doesn’t want to miss it —
But he forgets he’s on a stool. One second he’s teetering on the edge, holding his breath as Key’s tongue licks out towards his dick, and the next he’s falling back. His dick slips through Key’s spit-slicked hand as the floor rushes up to slap his ass. Hard.
For a moment he sits there, legs splayed around the stool, dumbfounded and breathless. His dick juts up from his crotch, hard and wet. Wait, hold up, what just …?
Then Key leans over Joey’s stool and grins down at him. “Shit, man. Ouch. You okay down there?”
Joey shakes his head to clear it. When he tries to breathe and can’t, he looks up at Key with wide, horrified eyes. “I –” he tries to say, but nothing comes out.
The smile fades from Key’s face. He steps around the stool and offers Joey a hand. Pulling him to his feet, Key brushes off his butt with quick slaps. “Knocked the breath outta you, that’s all. Just relax. Deep breaths. Come on, I’m right here. I got you.”
And he does. Key wraps an arm around Joey’s shoulders, then pulls Joey’s shirt down to cover his open fly. He takes deep breaths, as if that might somehow coerce Joey to do the same. “It’s okay,” Key says. “Walk it off, come on, let’s go.”
His velvety voice is a soothing balm on Joey’s jangled emotions. It calms the adrenaline soaring through his blood — part of him is still on the stool, still tied up in Key’s kisses and touch, and he’s shaken from the suddenness of the fall. God, what an ass he is. Smooth move, Ex-Lax. They’ll go into the control room, Key will sit him on the loveseat to catch his breath, and the moment they were sharing before will be gone.
Sure enough, Key leads him through the door into the other room. As Joey reaches out for the arm of the loveseat, he draws in a shallow, shuddery breath. Relief floods through him. God. Okay, good. At least he isn’t going to die.
Well, maybe of embarrassment.
He drops onto the loveseat and takes another, deeper breath as he sinks into the leather cushion. His hands aren’t shaking any longer, his pulse isn’t racing as badly as it was. He feels like an idiot.
And he isn’t the least bit surprised when Key heads for the door to the hallway, sure the Deej is going to go get Miles and the others so they can get back to work on the song. They haven’t even laid down the full track yet. At this rate, the one song will take all damn week to record. Defeated, he flips up his shirt and struggles to tuck his wilting dick into his too tight jeans.
But Key doesn’t open the door; instead, he locks it.
Joey raises a questioning eyebrow. “I thought you were going to get the others.”
Key leans back against the door, a smoldering look in his eyes. “I’m not through wit’ you yet.”