Monday, May 22, 2017

Monday Mini Part 3

Welcome to the first Monday Mini-Series, a new idea I'm introducing to Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms. Each mini-series will be roughly 4-5 parts all coming together to comprise a short story. This first short features a superhero trying to do a very simple task...go grocery shopping. I hope you'll follow along to see how things go for him. Feel free to leave comments and feedback. I hope you enjoy this first installment.


Lactose Intolerant Part 3


"Why, when he'd already made up his mind about our intentions the moment we stepped in. Let's face it, people are jaded. It’s easier for them to see the bad in everyone than to expect something good."
"Tell me again why we bother?"
"I guess so we don't become as disillusioned as the rest of them. Besides, what's the point of having lightning reflexes if we can't do anything with them? It’s not like we can take all of our martial arts training and complete in tournaments or even fight pro, it wouldn’t be fair, we'd always be able to anticipate where the strikes would land, so we'd always counter them, where's the challenge in that?"
"Where's the challenge now?"
"True, but at least we're doing something good, even if most people don't appreciate it."
"Umm, excuse me sir, but are you okay?"
The soft, feminine voice startled them out of their conversation. Glancing around they suddenly found themselves face to face with a middle aged woman who was clutching her daughter close.
"Umm yeah, We…err, I’m fine," Naill replied, looking away.
"Then can you please move? I've been trying to get to that shelf for the past few minutes. I even said excuse me several times, but it didn't seem like you heard a word of it."
"Sorry," Devlin replied, and felt his face heat up, he sure hoped Naill was blushing too or they were going to look pretty odd. Shuffling left, they moved so the little girl could get her box of cereal, one of the beautiful, sugary kinds Devlin would have loved to have.
"Fine, one," Naill finally relented once the woman and her little girl were on their way.
Giddy, Devlin reached out and snatched up the same kind as the little girl, placing it in the cart with a loving pat before they continued down the aisle.
In the produce section, they loaded up on fresh veggies and fruits, Devlin wrinkling his nose at the broccoli and making gagging noises at the Brussel sprouts. Naill moved on undaunted however, getting fresh mushrooms as he'd set out to, red seedless grapes and ginger root. He grabbed wonton wrappers, carrots and bean sprouts, green onions, shallots and garlic too.
"Thought we weren't getting anything that can be delivered," Devlin challenged.
"I'm gonna make lumpia," Naill determined.
"What the hell is that?"
"Filipino style of egg roll, totally different fillings from the crap you get from the Chinese place downtown."
"Keep telling yourself that," Devlin chuckled, then let it drop.
In the drink aisle they bought bottled water and drink packets to flavor it, like what the hell were they gonna do with zero calorie anything but try telling Naill that. This healthy living shit was gonna kill them both and it was only the first day.
Heading down the pasta aisle they caught sight of a woman in a pea green oversized coat, several pockets adorning the front and a few inside judging from the way she swiped a package of orzo from the shelf and tucked it away. You couldn't even see the lump.
She grabbed three envelopes of sauce mix and slipped them in an outer pocket, then turned, studying the packages of summer sausage and other meats. They swiped the envelopes from her pocket as she was pondering the peperoni, and when her jacket swung open as she tucked the peperoni in, they snagged the orzo too, putting both back on the shelf. Whistling, they pretended to study the boxes of pasta, adding fettuccini and linguini to the cart while discreetly trailing her.
They liberated the peperoni from her pocket, and the pack of crust mix all while she was placing a container of parmesan cheese in her basket. When she glanced their way, they tossed a loaf of French bread in the cart on top of a couple jars of sauce, and then maneuvered around her, pretending to ignore the looks she shot their way.
To her own basket she added a small container of red pepper flakes, then gasped, when store security grabbed her arm.
"Ma'am, you need to empty your pockets," the officer said, the pointed look on his face making the woman cringe.
"I...what's the meaning of this?" she stammered.
"I think you know," the officer told her, his stern expression turning to shock as she turned each of her pockets out one by one only to reveal there was nothing in them.
"Doh," Naill muttered, face palming and shaking his head.
"How were we supposed to know they were doing their jobs," Devlin grumbled.
"Yeah, ‘cause assuming they weren't just worked out so well. Can we please learn a lesson from all this. Let's just our shopping done and go home. We can't police everyone."
"Wasn't trying to police anyone, just looking to keep the prices down. Companies gotta make up for theft loss someway, how do you think they do it; they pass it on to the consumer, that's how. I just didn't wanna end up paying for her pizza, especially when you won't even let me have one."
"For a week, one miserable week. You keep this up and we can make it a month."
"Yeah, you can fuck right off with that shit too."
"Don't you wish?"
Left with no choice, the security guard apologized and let her go, frowning and rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her hurry to the checkout counter and pay for the items in her basket. Was too much to hope she'd chalk it up to a lesson learned, some strange twist of fate that had kept her from getting arrested. Was more likely she'd head to another store and lift the shit she'd failed to get.
What the hell did they bother for anyway?


***Hope you'll return next week for the conclusion of Lactose Intolerant. Thank you so much for reading***

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Rainbow Snippet May 20th

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).



In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  The following Snippet is from Guitars and Choices, the sequel to my debut novel Guitars and Cages. Both will be available on May 26th.  In this snippet, I pick up about a half page away from last weeks, still in the barn, but closer to learning why he's scared. 


They made it halfway through the barn, Earl keeping his conversation light, talking about the general condition and how the old, moldy straw would need to be removed. Asher began to relax, even began to take note of some of the damage, when his eyes landed on the old bullwhip.

Before he realized what was happening, he was trying to bolt for the exit, only to have Earl grab his arm, the older man’s grip like steel from years of toiling on his own ranch.

Asher panted, eyes wide, while Earl looked around, his shrewd gray eyes finally landing on the whip.

“Want me to get rid of that thing?” Earl asked gruffly.


Asher couldn’t find his voice, could only nod. 





Friday, May 19, 2017

Guitars and Choices Cover Reveal



Layla Dorine’s Guitars and Choices
The sequel to Guitars and Cages
Coming May 26th from Encompass Ink along with the re-release of Guitars and Cages
Cover Art for Guitars and Choices by the amazingly talented Rue Volley who has a wonderful way of taking fragmented ideas and envisioning something wonderful.



Guitars and Choices Blurb:

Asher Logan has been a lot of things: runaway, guitarist, cage fighter, cowboy, but the one thing he’s always avoided was being a father to his young son. Now faced with returning to his families ranch, he’s forced to deal with the knowledge that the move would put him right down the road from Shawn. Still, it’s better than staying in the city, with drunken, bitter older brother Cole, whose anger and prejudices have made him difficult to be around.

Add in the fact that Asher’s new boyfriend, Conner, is eager to make the move with him, and there’s little argument that he can make against it. But returning home means facing demons, and the barn he’s avoided since the day his father caught him and his first love together in the hay. Speaking of his father, when the old man finds out Asher is back, he knows it will only be a matter of time before he demands Asher come to the prison to see him.

Moving means facing a buried past and truths long hidden, but staying in the city isn’t good for anyone, least of all Asher’s young nephew, Rory. It’s a hard road to face, filled with tough choices, and an old secret that just might provide more questions than answers.




About the Author:

LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.

Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.

Layla Dorine can be found at:                               
Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005197938547&fref=ts Twitter: https://twitter.com/layladorine
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/layladorine/
Tumblr: https://layladorine.tumblr.com/
Author Website: layladorine13.wix.com/layladorineauthor

Author on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9814124.Layla_Dorine

Monday, May 15, 2017

Monday Mini-Series Part 2

Welcome to the first Monday Mini-Series, a new idea I'm introducing to Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms. Each mini-series will be roughly 4-5 parts all coming together to comprise a short story. This first short features a superhero trying to do a very simple task...go grocery shopping. I hope you'll follow along to see how things go for him. Feel free to leave comments and feedback. I hope you enjoy this first installment.


Lactose Intolerant Part 2

It afforded Devlin the opportunity to people watch, starting with a leggy brunette in the football jersey who was rummaging around in her bag, muttering to herself about never having a stupid pen.
"I can relate," he chuckled as they went by; pausing only so he could pass her the only pen they had on them.
Not like they had a list anyway. She smiled and thanked him while Naill grumbled about Devlin never being prepared for anything. That wasn't true and his brother knew it, he kept a condom in his wallet, right next to a little packet of lube. Equal opportunity and all that jazz, if there was one thing their unique existence had taught him was to never limit themselves in anything.
“Which is why we are one honey bun away from actually needing to do exercise,” Nail muttered furiously as they headed for the aisle marked canned fruits and vegetables. Devlin simply whistled a happy tune and pushed the cart, breathing in the scent of chicken frying over in the deli. A pyramid of mushrooms stood beside the endcap, picture perfect with all of the labels facing in the same direction.
"They'd be pretty good on pizza," Devlin remarked, eyeing up the cans.
"Fresh ones are better and we're not making pizza, we're not making anything that comes from a drive through or can be delivered to our door."
"You do know that we get cranky when we're hungry."
"Thought you agreed to shut up and let me handle this?"                         
Devlin grumbled and narrowed his eye. "Fine," he snapped, but that didn't stop him from reaching out and snagging a can as they went past. Unfortunately, the rapid, jerky movement sparked an avalanche of cans and a gasp from Naill. In a flurry of motion, they grabbed at the cans, gathering them all back up before they could hit the ground in a cacophony of noise. Unfortunately, putting them back so fast meant that they ended up in a precariously balanced pile, nothing like the precise placement they'd been in before Devlin happened past.
"You just couldn't resist, could you? Naill grumbled.
"One can isn't going to hurt us, besides, we can throw it into a pot of spaghetti or something," Devlin pointed out, the offending can still clutched in his grasp.
Naill let out a long suffering sigh and rolled his eye. "Fine, but from here on out, you keep your hand to yourself."
Smirking, Devlin placed the can in the cart and made an x with his fingers across his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die"
 "So I'd wish, but that would be suicide," Naill complained as he took charge of their direction, wandering down the aisle and adding cans of pineapples and apricots. They'd hardly gone a few steps when a woman fussing at her child to slow down and stay beside her took the turn, and distracted, bumped into the stand, sending mushroom cans everywhere. The crash was spectacular, cans rolling down the aisle and bouncing with loud clangs off metal shelves. Naill cringed, pushing the cart a little faster.
"Shit, cleanup on aisle three," Devlin muttered, hiding a snicker behind his hand.
"It ain't funny."
"Yeah, it kinda is," Devlin remarked as the woman tried to corral the out of control kid, dodging cans and nearly tripping on them while she made a grab for him. "Maybe she'll put the kid in a cart from now on."
"Wish I could shove you in a cart, you're old enough to know better."
"So's the kid, or he would be, if she'd teach him some manners."
"Yeah, 'cause you know all about raising kids, right?"
"I'm just saying, maybe if some folks taught these brats young, they wouldn't grow up to be little assholes who run around robbing corner stores, spray painting other people's property and beating up folks for their money."
"Maybe..."
Naill grabbed a couple bags of dried beans, studying them awhile as he debated which would be best in a pot of chili, before finally deciding on the canned beans, uncertain if it would be worth the effort of having to soak them overnight, then boil them before they'd be of any use.
"Chili does sound good; think we can figure out cornbread?"
"It shouldn't be too hard," Naill replied, grateful that Devlin was finally getting with the program; they headed into the aisle with the baking products only to discover that there were way more kinds of flour than they'd ever imagined.
"Ummm," Devlin stammered as they walked slowly past bags of rye and wheat, bleached, gluten free, rice flour, oat flour, all-purpose, self-rising, and finally, corn meal.
"Pretty sure we need this," Naill stated as he picked up the corn meal. Turning the package over revealed a recipe for corn bread, so he made short work of grabbing the all-purpose flour, honey, and sugar they also needed from the aisle.
"Hey, if we grab some vanilla extract maybe we can figure out how to bake a cake, don't all those cooking shows talk about vanilla extract?" Devlin supplied.
"No cake, even homemade counts as junk food," Naill pointed out. He grabbed a small bottle of cooking oil, then paused at the spice rack, selecting several items and adding them to the cart.
"Do you even know what those are used for? Devlin asked, as Naill added jars of sage, rosemary, thyme, basil, and oregano.
"Nope, but we're going to figure it out."
"Joy."
Devlin's eyes lit up when they reached the cereal aisle. Reaching for a box of sugary goodness, he was stopped by Naill's admonishment.
"Don't even think about it."
"But..."
Groaning, he dropped his hand, pouting as Naill selected several varieties of shredded wheat and flakes with nuts and dried fruit bits in them.
"What's the point of having a super metabolism if you won't even let us enjoy it a little," Devlin moaned as they passed his favorite cereal, the colorful box depicting several varieties of oddly shaped grain bits and marshmallows.
"It won't kill you to eat this for one week."
"You don't know that. It just might."
Lite syrup and whole wheat pancake mix soon joined the cereal in the cart. Naill stared at the oatmeal selections, trying to decide between the organics, gluten frees, lites, instant, steal cut, old fashioned and sugar-free. Devlin would have selected the flavored packages of fruits and cream or maple and brown sugar, Naill of course, grabbed the gluten free, likely because it looked the least appealing of all of them.
As he was tossing it in the cart, they both happened to notice an older gentleman trying to get the last box of cereal down off the top shelf with his cane. Hurrying over, they leapt, propelling themselves off one of the bottom shelves to get greater height, easily snagging the box and landing back beside the old man with a grin. It was quickly wiped away when he rapped Naill on the wrist with his cane hard enough to make him drop the box, right into the cart the crafty old codger had deftly maneuvered into place. Naill grabbed his wrist, shaking it out while the old man waved his cane at them.
"Think you was being smart, didn't ja, you young whipper snapper. Well let me tell you something, no little punk is going to steal my cereal and get away with it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself; didn't your folks ever teach you to respect your elders? You just wait, one day you'll be old and bent and let’s see how you like it when folks just push you aside like you ain't even there anymore. I know you saw me grabbing that box. What right do you think you've got to try and take it away? You want a box; you go ask them if they got some more in the back, this one is mine. Have some damned respect for descent folks who just wanna get on back home without any trouble."
Naill opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't manage to find the words before the old man hobbled away pushing his cart, muttering under his breath about kids these days.
“Unbelievable." Naill muttered.
"Why? Look at what happened with the purse snatching we stopped last week. We step in and keep those two girls from mugging the lady, leave them tied up in the alley and even offer to escort the woman home so she made it there safely, and she turns around and beats on us with that damned heavy assed handbag, yelling at us about putting our hands on those girls. Like they weren't about to beat the hell outta her if she didn't given them everything she had."
"True.” Naill conceded. “He didn't even give us a chance to explain."
"Why, when he'd already made up his mind about our intentions the moment we stepped in. Let's face it, people are jaded. It’s easier for them to see the bad in everyone than to expect something good."
"Tell me again why we bother?"
"I guess so we don't become as disillusioned as the rest of them. Besides, what's the point of having lightning reflexes if we can't do anything with them? It’s not like we can take all of our martial arts training and complete in tournaments or even fight pro, it wouldn’t be fair, we'd always be able to anticipate where the strikes would land, so we'd always counter them, where's the challenge in that?"
"Where's the challenge now?"

"True, but at least we're doing something good, even if most people don't appreciate it."

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Rainbow Snippet May 14th

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).



In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  The following Snippet is from Guitars and Choices, the sequel to my debut novel Guitars and Cages. Both will be available on May 26th. 

Please, if you have blog space, consider signing up for my upcoming tour for Guitars and Choices at there are a lot of spaces left on the tour.  https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeghmt8xV_ySkmxEHdjwwpCLK6BQjkq77aZB02d1HuepVqoCw/viewform

“How about the barn, how’s it looking?” Earl asked as they passed it for the third time with Asher making no motion to go inside.
He froze. He still hadn’t been back in that barn. “I-I don’t know.”
Earl blinked, studying him, and then looking back at the barn. “Ain’t been back inside yet, have you?”
“No, sir,” Asher muttered, head down. “I-I can’t, I-I don’t wanna…”
“You can, and you have to,” Earl told him, steel in his voice. “Not gonna do you any good to be working the ranch, especially come calving and foaling time, if you can’t bring yourself to go in the barn.”

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Wednesday Workshop #1

Wednesday Workshop #1
***Note: Another new, weekly feature, using some of the prompts and workshop materials I've collected over the year. For this one, I chose Rogue, from my current WIP, Gypsy’s Rogue, a character who started off with all intentions of just being a drifter, passing through for a couple chapters. He surprised me though, I didn’t realize his feelings for Gypsy ran so deep, or that he was just as much in need of a home and stability. The interactions between the two are at times painful, steamy, and very, very sweet, and I can’t wait to see how their story turns out. *** Also reminder, Gypsy is gender fluid, so they/them pronouns are used to refer to them ***

Chose one song that best reflects your character and write a scene in which they are listening to it.
Way Beyond Empty: Zakk Wylde  



Even with the windows down it was hot, the kind of stifling heat that made breathing oppressive. Rogue wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced across the cab of the truck to where Gypsy sat, staring off across the endless cornfields. They’d hardly said a word since the conversation with Pastor Stern and Rogue couldn’t imagine what they had to be thinking about the man, the church and their dead father.

Personally, he’d never given much thought to religion, the very nature of his upbringing had left little room for consideration for God and theology. He’d been raised on folklore and legends, stories passed down from generation to generation as life lessons and cautionary tales. It was enough to keep them from breaking any serious laws anyway, and the rest of the time, well, as long as no one was getting hurt it was all good.

He had a hard time understanding why they cared so much, and they’d come pretty close to snapping at them when they’d insisted on sitting down and hearing the Pastor out, especially after the shit he’d said to them in the grocery store. In the end though, Rogue knew he could only make his own choices and couldn’t stand in the way of Gypsy making theirs, so he’d sat quietly, and listened as the man rambled on about his kid and all the praying he’d been doing over how to deal with her.

Like there was anything wrong with a chick liking chicks. Maybe if more people were honest about who they cared about the world would be a happier place, but what did he know?

Fiddling with the radio, he tried to dial in a station that wasn’t country, getting discouraged when the only other one he came across was the gospel channel, then he heard it, those familiar cords, strummed with aching precision, the opening notes to Zakk Wylde’s Way Beyond Empty. Cranking it up, he hit a rut, the pair of them bouncing along that half washed out road towards the back side of the property to unload the truck, the words filling in the silent gap between them as Rogue took every one to heart.

Because the truth was, he was scared. Everything was so new, so fragile, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and fucking it up. He was afraid of trying to protect Gypsy and failing, ‘cause there were never any guarantees about forgiveness.  He wanted to make them happy, help make the place thrive and grow, but if he couldn’t catch on fast enough, or if it was just too much would they send him down the road, and leave him as broken and empty as the muse in the song?


Reaching for their hand, he knew it was childish, he was too old to need physical reassurance that everything was okay. So then why did his heart feel like it was crushed just a little bit, when Gypsy pulled away?

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Teaser Tuesday May 9 (warning, this teaser contains steamy bits)


This weeks Teaser Tuesday takes place on a farm. It's from Gypsy's Rogue, one of my current WIPs. Set in Wisconsin, on the farm Gypsy has inherited now that their father has passed, Gypsy's Rogue features Gypsy McKay, who identifies as gender fluid and uses them/they pronouns rather than go back and forth, and Rogue, their ex husband's younger brother who's always had more than just a little crush on them. In helping repair the farm they're building more than barns and chicken coops, they are forging bonds between them, ones that Rogue's family desperately hopes to break.

Warning....there's some steam to this teaser.

“That was the last cabinet anyway. The wood underneath is beautiful, I can’t believe anyone would have wanted to cover it that way, not to mention the paper and the sticky backing on the liner just attracts bugs. It’ll need to be scrubbed before anything goes in there.”
Gypsy sighed and stared down at him. “Joy, I hate town.”
“Want me to go?”
They sighed and shook their head. “No, we’d better just go together and get it over with. Fuck it’s hot out there though, I don’t want to put on jeans.”
“Then don’t. Who cares, and anyone who does, fuck ‘em.”
“Ewwww,” they laughed, wrinkling their nose but climbing down. He had a point, people were going to talk, regardless so why go out of their way to be uncomfortable when no matter what they did, some nosy busy body would have something to gossip about anyway. Hell, as soon as they got a look at Rogue that was going to be gossip enough on its own.
He stood, brushing the dust from his jeans before he washed his hands and stuck his head under the faucet, letting the water run through his hair and down the back of his neck. Gypsy watched as he gathered the long strands in his hands and rung them out, then let them fall, cool and wet down the center of his back.
“Now that feels good,” he murmured.
Beneath their breath, Gypsy couldn’t help but remark. “You look good.”
He turned, half smiling, a sure sign that he’d heard every word.
“So do your legs, in those shorts,” he replied, voice having grown deeper, more gravely as he stalked across the room towards them and pinned them against the counter with his body. “Looking at your ass shaking while you were scrubbing up there, so many dirty thoughts were running through my head. I wanted to pull you down, explore every inch of you with my mouth, my tongue, my cock.”
He growled the last part in Gypsy’s ears and they gasped, feeling their face get warm and their lower belly flutter with anticipation. They licked their lips, forced themselves to meet the searing intensity of his gaze.
“Why didn’t you?” Gypsy moaned, their voice gone breathy and a little weak.
“You haven’t told me I can yet,” he remarked, leaning closer, ending the sentence by claiming their lips in a rough, passionate kiss that robbed them of what little breath they had left.
“Tonight,” Gypsy gasped, tangling their hands in his hair and tugging his head down until they were nose to nose. “Some of me, all of me, as much as you want, you can have.”
He exhaled, a long, ragged breath, eyes drifting half-closed as his whole body shivered.
“Promise?” he growled, hands gripping Gypsy’s ass and pulling them forward, rubbing the front of them against the swelling in his pants and holy shit, Gypsy gasped, eyes widening.
“Jesus Christ, what do you have in there?”
He chuckled at that, low and filthy, fixing them with a look that was so raw they felt like they were about to go up in flames.
“Guess you’ll find out tonight,” he remarked, stepping back and adjusting himself. Gypsy couldn’t tear their eyes away from the bulge in his pants, torn between saying fuck town, and grabbing the keys because damn, just damn. Gypsy dragged their gaze up to his face and made a show of licking their lips and flicking their tongue out at him.
“Oh really?” Eyes narrowing, he smirked and stroked himself inside his pants, bringing a groan of pleasure from him as he did.
 “Yeah,” Gypsy remarked, flicking their tongue out at him again.
“You gonna put that tongue to good use tonight?”
“Anything you do to me, I’m gonna do to you,” Gypsy shot back, challenging, expecting him to draw some kind of line. Instead, he gasped and jerked his hands from his pants, seeming to fight for control, heat and longing in his eyes, so sharply focused on them that Gyspy wanted to slid to their knees and fuck him on the floor.”
“Promise?” He demanded, hands on the counter, still pinning them in, so close Gypsy could feel him shaking.
Gypsy went up on tiptoe, nuzzling the side of his neck.
“Yes,” they murmured against his skin, punctuating each word with a flick of their tongue along the hot, smooth skin at the side of his neck. “Anything, everything, all.”
“Fuck, yeah, gonna wreck you,” he groaned, pressing in tighter, thrusting gently against them, grinding their bodies together until Gypsy was grasping and clinging to him. Gypsy’s hands tugged at the loops of his jeans, pulling him closer, seeking friction and the feel of his hands on their body. Slipping their hands down the back of his jeans, they ranked their nails lightly the globes of his ass until he growled and shuddered, gripping tight and panting loudly.
“We either fuck now, or we go,” he groaned.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” Gypsy told him, gripping him tight when he tried to pull away. They could practically feel the confusion radiating off him and they rushed to finish their statement. “I want to make love to you, slowly, learn every inch of you, brand myself on you and feel you burning against me. I want to take you apart and wreck you and hold you as you shatter and beg and make a mess of yourself and I want you to do the same to me. I want slow and tender until we’re both wild and out of control. Fucking isn’t going to be enough, not with you.”
“Damn, Gypsy,” he growled, nipping lightly at their ear. “I can work with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
He’d stopped grinding against them, but Gypsy could still feel his heart pounding about as hard as theirs was, and they shivered as he lightly stroked down their back and rubbed circles, like he was trying to calm them both.

“As long as you know, I’m a kinky bastard,” he muttered, and Gypsy giggled and brushed his hair from his face, seeking his gaze.