Title: Here For Us
Series: Us #1
Author: A.M. Arthur
Publisher: Briggs-King Books
Release Date: 3/17/17
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male Menage
Length: 94,000 words
Genre: Gay Romance, Menage
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Synopsis
Cris Sable doesn’t walk into popular gay bar Big Dick’s
expecting to find more than a casual hookup, so he’s surprised by his instant attraction
and intense chemistry with go-go dancer Jake. Jake’s sexy as hell and a
firecracker in bed. The sparks between them are undeniable, and what starts as
a hookup evolves into something deeper, possibly permanent—until Jake dumps
Cris flat on his ass for no good reason.
Angry and confused, Cris finds comfort with his longtime friend
and employer Charles “Chet” Greenwood. Cris’s emotional state stirs up
Charles’s long-buried feelings for Cris. Feelings he’s denied for eight years,
because Cris is his employee and therefore off limits—not to mention two
decades younger than Charles. Cris admits he has feelings for Charles, too, but
he’s still getting over Jake and both men agree nothing can happen between them
while Charles is still Cris’s boss.
Jake Bowden knows he doesn’t have anything to offer a guy. He’s
a go-go dancer with no degree and no real career aspirations. He’s also used to
everyone who loves him leaving, so it makes sense to cut Cris loose before
things get too serious. Cris is kind, passionate and totally deserves a guy
like Charles—wealthy, owns a home, successful businessman. Jake can’t compete
so why bother? They’re better off together. But when Jake has a serious
personal crisis, Cris and Charles unite to pull him back together, and the
three men discover it’s possible—maybe even inevitable—to fall in love with
more than one person at a time.
Excerpt
Chapter One
I need to fucking get laid.
The thought followed Cris Sable through the heavy industrial
door that hid the throbbing interior of Big Dick’s, the most popular gay
nightclub in Harrisburg. The place was hard to find if you didn’t know where it
was, or if you didn’t know the big muscle bear sitting by the entrance was a
bouncer. Cris hadn’t been to the club in over a year, mostly by choice, but
tonight he needed something.
Definitely a drink, although he’d have to limit himself now that
he was functioning with one kidney. And, if possible, he wanted to leave with a
willing ass to fuck. It had been a long dry spell.
A dry spell of his own making, but still, a guy had needs, and
he wasn’t looking to get his needs met by a woman tonight. Tonight he needed
dick.
He eased his way over to the bar and ordered a margarita on the
rocks. Something he could work his way through slowly. The club was in full
swing, bodies gyrating on the dance floor, men dry humping their way through
the evening. Soon early morning. At the rear of the dance floor, six go-go
dancers were on risers, each decked out in one color of the rainbow.
Barely-there briefs in a solid color, sparkle body paint all over their chests
and legs, and some dancers even had colorful streaks in their hair. Monday was
theme night for the go-go dancers, which explained why there were so many. On
the other nights of the week that Cris had visited, the club usually only had
three dancers.
Cris zeroed in on the dancer in blue. He loved the color blue,
and this kid was pretty fucking hot in a royal blue thong, with blue swirls
across his pecs and shoulders. Something kind of tribal and arty. He spun
around to shake his ass, showing off very taut blue-painted cheeks. Even from
the distance, he was cute. The kind of cute Cris liked to wrangle around in bed
and fuck through the mattress.
Occasionally, a hand would rise from the crowd with money in it,
and the blue dancer squatted low enough for the money to be tucked away in
their underwear. Very strip club-esque, but Big Dick’s had a strict policy
about not touching the dancers for longer than it took to tip them.
He scanned the other dancers’ faces and froze solid at the guy
at the end. Despite the yellow paint, Cris knew that nearly naked body
intimately enough to see past the costume and recognize Colby. Not his real
name, and Cris didn’t know what it was, but they’d filmed together at Mean Green
Boys roughly two years ago. Colby was only with the company for a few months
before he quit to be with his boyfriend.
Cris had been intensely jealous at the time. At twenty-eight
years old, he’d failed to find and maintain a serious relationship for longer
than six months. And even that relationship had imploded when she found out he
did gay porn. Okay, so he shouldn’t have kept that a secret for so long. He’d
been so damned happy to find someone who understood and accepted he was
bisexual that he’d been scared to destroy it too soon by admitting to the porn.
But secrets never did a relationship any good, and Lily had
dumped his ass hard.
He’d taken a two year hiatus from porn after that, hoping to try
and rebuild his flailing love life, before returning to Mean Green. The studio
owner, Chet Green, was one of his closest friends—hence the very secret reason
for his single remaining kidney.
“Hello, gorgeous.” A slinky number in
leather pants and a silver mesh shirt slid up to Cris at the bar. Cute, kohl-lined
eyes, plump lips that promised they knew how to suck a dick.
Cris grinned. “Who, me?”
“Oh, honey, we both know you’re the
sexiest thing in the club tonight.” A warm arm draped over his shoulders.
“Name’s Luke.”
“Cris.”
“Hmm, I think you look more like a
Vincent.”
Cris tensed. No fucking way could this random guy know who he
was. There was no hint of malice in his easy grin, no sign the name was
anything other than a really good guess. Cris came from an Italian family from
Long Island, and the genes were pretty strong. He’d rid himself of his
identifying accent years ago, though, thank Christ.
“Or Vincenzo, or Anthony,” the kid said,
oblivious to Cris’s racing thoughts.
“Well, it’s Cris.” Rude, fine, but he’d
lost any interest in Luke. Cristian Sable was his identity now. “See you
around.”
Cris pushed away from the bar and eased his way into the crowd
occupying the fringes of the dance floor. A few blatant offers came his way,
but Cris turned them all down. He didn’t realize he’d inched closer to the
risers and his blue dancer until the guy was less than ten feet away.
Blue had a face that was both easygoing and sharp. He was
enjoying himself without totally letting his guard down. And he was hella cute.
Fuckable for sure.
Bodies danced frenetically all around him, allowing Cris to stay
close to the wall and shift nearer to Blue. Someone held up a bill between two
fingers. Blue wiggled his hips and squatted low so the money could be tucked
into his g-string. The triangle of blue material held a very promising package
for a smaller guy.
Blue blew a kiss to his patron, then spun in an ass-wiggling
circle. His dark gaze roamed the crowd, then paused on Cris. An unexpected
thrill shot through him. Some sort of instinctive acknowledgement of the man on
the stage, as if they’d been waiting to meet. Blue held eye contact; Cris drew
out a long, lazy smile. Blue cocked his head, winked, and then kept dancing.
Cris stayed in his spot. Every few minutes, Blue glanced his way. Right into
his eyes.
Target acquired.
The dancers came and went from the risers, likely taking breaks
in between sets. When Blue winked again and disappeared, Cris had half a mind
to try and find him. Except he didn’t work at the club, and he had no real
excuse to get backstage. Cris sipped his watered-down margarita and watched the
eye candy on display. The gorgeous men, the throbbing music, and the heady
scents of sweat and sex worked their magic on Cris, and he was half-hard by the
time a brown-haired kid with a smear of blue under both eyes sidled up next to
him.
Cris studied the familiar face, now scrubbed clean except for
those two very appealing smudges. His hair maintained hints of blue glitter.
He’d covered that amazing body with jeans and a white sleeveless tee, but this
was Cris’s dancer. Blue.
“You off the clock?” Cris asked.
“Yup.” He grabbed Cris’s glass and
finished it off with a smirk that did funny things to Cris’s balls. “Damn, I
think I owe you a drink.”
He laughed. “Cris.”
“Jake.” He snagged Cris’s belt and
tugged him toward the bar.
The forwardness was a huge fucking turn on, and Cris’s cock was
at full mast by the time they reached the bar. An older man in a sparkly vest
smiled at them.
“Two margaritas on the rocks,” Jake
said. “My tab.”
“On it,” the bartender said.
Cris rested one hand on Jake’s lower back, and he was surprised
by the tiny thrill that vibrated up his arm. Jake pressed into his touch,
eyelids fluttering as if he’d felt something similar. Cris leaned in to whisper
in his ear, “Blue is my favorite color.”
Jake looked up, big brown eyes glimmering with mischief. “Oh
yeah?”
“Definitely. It looks good on you.”
“Know what else would look good on me?”
Cris saw the flirty line coming, but he played along. “What’s
that?”
“You.”
He nuzzled Jake’s ear with his nose. “I agree.”
The bartender slid their drinks over. Jake gulped his, while
Cris only sipped. And studied his future sex partner. A good six inches shorter
than him, and slimmer all over. Dance-honed muscles. Tight jeans that did
nothing to hide his erection. A very One Direction boyish hotness about him
that made Cris want to fuck him senseless.
“I’d ask if you want to dance,” Jake
said, “but you didn’t bust a move all night.”
“Not much of a dancer.”
“No good?”
“I’m plenty good.” Cris put a little
leer into those words. “But I don’t like using dancing as foreplay. I’d rather
play in private.”
Jake pressed his hard dick against Cris’s thigh, amusement
dancing in his eyes. His voice was crazy sexy in a way that Cris couldn’t
describe, but he liked it. “So I’m guessing you aren’t a fan of the bathroom
with the favors?”
Big Dick’s had two bathrooms for its patrons, and rumor had it
that the bathroom on the left had a bowl of condoms and lube sachets for
patrons. Folks interested in a quick—and safe—fuck with a stranger. The
bathroom on the right was for regular business.
“Nope.” Cris slid his hand from Jake’s
lower back to grab his ass. “I prefer a nice big bed where I can have my way
with someone for a few hours. Upright in a bathroom stall is over too fast.”
Jake swallowed hard, his cheeks pinking up. “Sounds like an
adventure.”
“You up for it?”
“What do you think?” He ground his dick
into Cris’s thigh. “Think I’m up for it?”
“I might need more convincing.”
Jake grabbed at Cris’s erection and squeezed, the contact sending
happy sparklers down Cris’s spine. He really liked Jake touching him. “I’d suck
you right here but Richard frowns on public displays of fellatio.”
Cris didn’t know who Richard was, and he didn’t care. Owner or
manager, probably. His only priority was getting Jake naked in his bed. He
pushed his mostly full glass away. “Then let’s get out of here before you get
in trouble with your boss.”
Jake gulped his margarita, then plunked his glass on the bar.
“Lead the way.”
He did.
The cool night air did nothing to ease his throbbing dick, nor
did the long walk to his car. Jake kept close, their arms brushing, but
otherwise not touching. The city was still alive and well all around them, and
while Cris was big and imposing enough that few people ever bothered him, Jake
walked with purpose. Aware of everyone they passed. He’d danced the exact same
way: wary of the world.
Cris silently promised to help Jake forget those shadows that
made him walk through life like it would turn against him at any moment. Even
if only for a few hours.
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Meet the Author
A.M. Arthur was born and raised in the same kind of small town
that she likes to write about, a stone's throw from both beach resorts and
generational farmland. She's been creating stories in her head since she was a
child and scribbling them down nearly as long, in a losing battle to make the
fictional voices stop. She credits an early fascination with male friendships
(bromance hadn't been coined yet back then) with her later discovery of and
subsequent love affair with m/m romance stories. A.M. Arthur's work is
available from Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, Dreamspinner Press, SMP
Swerve, and Briggs-King Books.
When not exorcising the voices in her head, she toils away in a
retail job that tests her patience and gives her lots of story fodder. She can
also be found in her kitchen, pretending she's an amateur chef and trying to
not poison herself or others with her cuisine experiments.
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Giveaway
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