Wicked Faerie's Tales and Reviews: Ben's Wolf Surprise by Bronwyn Heeley - Blog Tour with Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

Title: Ben’s Wolf Surprise

Series: Second Pack of Cameron

Author: Bronwyn Heeley

Publisher: eXtasybooks

Cover Artist: Carmen Waters

Length: 13,142 words

Release Date: September 1, 2015

Blurb: There’s something unsettling in having to tell a one-night stand that you’re pregnant with his child, when you yourself are a man, it gets…let’s call it complicated.

Ben rushed to the toilet, sliding into the bowl as he slipped on the bathmat. His fingers hurt as he smacked them into the porcelain moments before he spilled his guts out into the bowl.

His retching, the splash of liquid hitting water and the sting in his eyes were the only thing on his mind as he tried to get the poison out of him so that he could stop being sick. He really needed to stop being sick.

Please can someone make it stop.

Ben took a breath as he slowly straightened himself up. Hoping his stomach was over this burst. He grabbed at a handful of toilet paper and used it to blow his noise before he whipped his mouth and threw the clump into the bowl as he got to his feet. His head stayed on level, hanging over the bowl as he waited. A second, a minute, he didn’t want to stand, he didn’t want to be looking down at the bowl, but it was hard, these moments of calm.

Flushing, Ben stood over the sink, washed his face and mouth out before he grabbed at his toothbrush and started on his teeth. He couldn’t stand the taste, couldn’t deal with the fact that he’d spewed and even though he’d be here again, going over the same routine, like he had six times since last night. He needed to feel clean and without getting in the shower, his teeth were the next best thing.

Ben shuffled his way back into the bedroom then looked around. He didn’t feel that bad at that moment. Queasy, yeah, because of the recent spewing. But on the whole, his head wasn’t hurting, his body wasn’t aching and he didn’t have a temp. He was just vomiting, had been just vomiting for a week and a half now.

Ben did not understand why it was happening. He’d even been to the hospital about it and they sent him home after nearly a day on an IV and all tests coming back clean. He did not have food poisoning or gastro issues. He did not have fucking anything and the fact that he hadn’t spewed at the hospital itself hadn’t help, just got him home quicker.

He’d felt like a fool. Therefore, he kept it all to himself even though the sickness didn’t seem to be passing, didn’t seem to be anything even as he kept on doing it.

He drank as much as he could and he did seem to keep a lot of the water down. He even managed to eat a bit every now and then. Not as much as he’d normally consume but enough to say he’d eaten.

Smells seemed to be a big trigger. And the fact that he lived in a shitty apartment block meant there were a lot of them, at all different times. Each smell different from the next, nothing he could really track.

Breakfast was okay, toast and tea even, but any small waft of coffee and he’d be running to the toilet. The oily mechanic sweaty smell didn’t sit well with him either, which was weird, as it happened to be his favourite smell on a man.

Animal’s…he could not do them at all. Could not stand that animally smell they had, a smell he’d never really noticed until this last week. Dogs were the worst, they reeked in a way that got Ben backing away as quickly as he could. If one touched him, brushed against his hand, his body…well the last time it happened he was at his neighbour’s feet. Luckily, Daniel had been nice enough to wash away the evidence from the front steps.

Odder still was the fact that it took him four times under scolding water to wash the dog’s smell off him and he’d not been able to rest until he did. Could not sit still until it was clearly away.

A knock sounded around his apparent before Ben had made it to bed. He looked out towards the front of his apartment, even if all he saw from his position was the open bedroom door.

“Shadrack,” the drop-dead sexy man on the other side of an outstretched arm offered, a smile gracing his lips, lust and hope in his eyes.

“Really—Shadrack?”

Shadrack’s shoulders drooped, but that warm dry hand never left Ben’s. He wasn’t letting go.

“ShAD-rak, but you were close.”

“Yeah, and nowhere fucking near.” Ben laughed with him—it was nice, the sharing.

“Just call me Shad,” he murmured, leaning closer, his elbow up on the bar table, breath brushing against Ben’s face as the music of the club rocked around them—forcing them closer, ordering them to be chest to chest in a bid to hear what the other said. “And what can I call you, gorgeous?”

“That’ll do.” Ben laughed at the cheesiness, which came more from the tone than the words. When one dark eyebrow went up—or at least the illusion of a raise—Ben huffed out a name. “Ben. I’m Ben.”

He got a smile for his efforts, one that had his heart beating in his throat and his body lighting up like a Christmas tree. He buzzed, itched and ached in ways he’d never felt before.

Ben looked at the other man as they lapsed into silence. A weird type of silence, yet one that was comfortable. His cock screamed at him to pull them into a dark corner, to keep the other man interested, or Shad might leave and Ben would never know what he was like.

Shad was an impressive figure, one of the biggest people Ben had seen in a long time. He could not quite tell from the position they were in, but he was sure the man would tower over his five-foot-ten height.

It was hard to tell in the darkness of the club, even worse when the flashes of coloured light entered the equation, the exact colour of those eyes. He’d have to guess at hazel. They had an eerie glow as they looked at Ben, drying out his mouth instantly, his tongue lapping at his lower lip. He sucked it in as his gaze followed the shadows on the big man’s neck and collarbone. He was wearing a wife beater, a dark one that showed the spattering of hair across his upper chest and the perfect outline of his pecs.

His arms—huh, he also had on a black shirt, open over the top of the singlet, the arms cut into the thick muscles. Ben found himself touching them, lingering on the rough surface and thick muscle.

What they would be able to make him do.

A calloused finger scraped at the soft skin under his chin, and goose bumps broke from the sensation as his face was lifted up and warm plump lips came into sight. The pause had him shifting his head into a better position and his eyes dropped closed. Then those lips were on him, hot and smooth, moulding to his own for a long second as the two of them sank into the moment.

The music around him stopped—became a troupe that was all about the beat of his heart in his pressure points, thumping in his ears. It made him want to push closer, get naked, as the blood pushed against his skin, sensitising everything at once. It allowed him to feel nothing but the hot brush of lips against his own, the slight scrape of whiskers against his upper lip and chin.

Then they both took a breath,

eXtasy Books

Bronwyn was always the ‘wait until the movie comes out’ kinda girl. This was because reading wasn’t her strongest point; the only books she was able to read were Baby Sitter Club: Little Sister and Paul Jennings anthologies

Add a 2yr old and another on the way, she needed a hobby, which she found in reading. Picking up a book opened a whole new world to her, one she never thought she’d ever be able to enter.

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