It's release day for Wound Tight by Tessa Bailey! Check out this fantastic new release and grab this sexy new contemporary m/m romance today!
About Wound Tight:
A sexy new M/M romance
from New York Times Bestselling author Tessa Bailey
When CEO Renner Bastion
walks into a room, everyone keeps their distance. Well, everyone but the
sarcastic, tattooed, Boston-bred security guard whose presence has kept Renner
in New Jersey longer than intended. As if the unwanted attraction isn’t unsettling
enough, Renner finds out his protector isn’t as unavailable as originally
thought.
Milo Bautista just came
out to his wealthy, ultra-confident boss, a man he secretly respects and
admires…in more ways than he’ll admit. Worldly, experienced Renner would never
look in his direction, let alone share some of that confidence he wears like a
cloak, so Milo has set his sights on someone else to be his first.
Until Renner offers him
private lessons in seduction...
Get your copy today!
Exclusive Excerpt:
Chapter One.
Would you rather was Renner Bastion’s least favorite game.
Scratch that. All games were his least favorite.
He couldn’t help playing one, however, as he stared down at his
factory floor. Security guard Milo Bautista flirted with one of the older
female assembly line workers, twirling her by the hand as if they were on a
cruise ship dancing to bongo music. Renner stood in an air-conditioned office,
surrounded by silence. So. Would he rather be upstairs in his impeccably
clean suit, or downstairs, covered by factory grease that seemed to ooze from
every corner of his New Jersey manufacturing plant? Considering that Milo and
the woman looked joyful while Renner was in a shitty mood, he didn’t have an
answer.
How you like them apples?
Jesus. Thanks to Milo, he
was even starting to think in a Boston accent. The man who’d ordained
himself Renner’s personal one-man security detail without permission was more
Boston than Mark Wahlberg at a fucking Red Sox game. Wearing Paul Revere’s hat.
And yet here Renner was, kind of wishing the jerk would come
upstairs where he belonged, instead of making the female population of Hook
swoon.
“There’s a good sign it’s time to go home,” Renner muttered, his
breath creating condensation on the glass. He’d been saying the same thing for
weeks now. It’s time to go home. Not to his two-bedroom in Hook, though.
His apartment in Manhattan. Or his flat in China. Or any one of the
homes he’d rented to keep an eye on his other ventures.
The damage sustained by the factory explosion in Hook had been
repaired weeks ago, the construction no longer requiring his daily supervision.
God knew his employees were sick to death of his presence, turning their backs
whenever he passed through their midst. Yet here he remained, in this town full
of nosy people constantly wanting to grill meat and drink beer from cans,
watching everyone else live from the other side of the glass.
“What a cliché you’ve become.” Renner reached to his left, pouring
whiskey from a glass decanter into a tumbler and lifting it to his lips for a
long sip. “Resented boss. Spoiler of fun.” The liquor lit a path of fire on its
way down. “The one who gets shit done and signs everyone’s paychecks. Don’t
forget that part.”
As if Renner had spoken into the intercom instead of to himself,
Milo’s smooth movements snagged while dipping the enamored worker. His
dark-haired head came up, his gaze finding Renner upstairs, that eyebrow
tilting as if to say, want to take a picture, boss man?
That was their relationship, if you could refer to it as such.
Renner gave Milo orders, as he did to all of his employees, and Milo told him
to shove it, going about following instructions in his own way. His
signature loose-limbed, ready to rumble, swaggering way. Sometimes he even
winked at Renner while following through, which in itself should have been
grounds for firing. Even if winking didn’t break any codes of conduct per se,
it certainly violated Renner’s own unwritten rule book. As did Milo’s walking
into his office without knocking and throwing sarcasm Renner’s way at every
available opportunity.
Apparently Milo fell into some kind of gray area that allowed him
to disrespect Renner’s authority and retain his job. The rugged Bostonian may
have been hired several months ago by Vaughn, the head of factory
security and an old army buddy of Milo’s, but Renner had the ultimate power to
hire and fire. Putting up with the subtle jabs and sarcasm had nothing to do
with Renner’s reluctant fascination with the security guard. Or the way a flame
lit under his blood every time the man was close by. Nothing whatsoever. He had
a strict set of rules when it came to other men, and Milo violated them all by
being his employee. Not to mention being too young…and too straight. Like,
chest bumps and beer koozies straight. In other words, Renner was doing his
best to ignore how Milo’s security shirt had come unbuttoned halfway to his
belt and sweat was beginning to catch the bright factory lights—
“Right.”
Renner swallowed the remaining inch of whiskey and turned away
from the window. He needed to get some sleep. He’d been working on a new
contract pitch for three days, and his common sense was beginning to blur. The
account he was trying to land didn’t want to use their facilities, anyway.
Despite Bastion Enterprises’ pristine track record, the rejections continued.
Why was he trying so hard?
Because that’s what Renner did. He worked until he collapsed. Late
hours, red-eye flights, exhaustion, coffee, whiskey. Repeat. After being
doubted by countless associates on his rise to the top, a fire burned in his
gut, daring him to prove himself. It never, ever went away.
Yes, work was his cruelest vice, and it kept him moving. Never
settling. He certainly didn’t make habits of outstaying his welcome in
one town. A place where he didn’t warrant so much as a wave when walking down
the street. It was absurd that Milo, an employee who had about as much respect
for Renner as a delinquent child for a school principal, should make him
feel…welcome. For the love of God, he’d greeted Renner with a middle finger
this morning and yet somehow, Renner had been looking forward to it. At least
it was an acknowledgment.
Time to go home. Seriously.
Back to the city. Back to sanity. Back to dating men who were
available to him.
Why was there so little appeal to the latter?
With an irritated curse, Renner went to his desk and began shoving
files into his leather briefcase. If he went out the back door, he wouldn’t
have to ruin everyone’s fun downstairs. His Mercedes was parked a few blocks
over, despite Milo’s insistence that he “pahk in the freakin’ laht,” so he
would avoid that argument as well.
That was not a disappointed tug in his stomach; he’d just
skipped dinner.
…
Milo watched the light go out in Renner’s office and knew the
stubborn prick was going to try to sneak out without him. The guy really
thought he was untouchable, didn’t he? But in a town full of people who
disliked him—especially after firing their beloved mechanic, Duke, and the
explosion that followed—Renner didn’t get to waltz around in the dark in his
five-thousand-dollar suit. Maybe Hook was slightly safer than Milo’s old Boston
neighborhood, but at age twenty-six, caution still ran in his blood.
He’d been hired to keep the factory safe, and that duty extended
to Renner, the factory’s owner, whether the dude liked it or not. The army had
taught Milo to take his responsibilities seriously, and after a disorganized,
all-around backward youth, he’d learned there was satisfaction in being
thorough. To be proud of a job.
Responsibility. Yeah. That was so why he was so protective
over Renner.
Milo snorted to himself and gave a sweeping bow to the woman in
front of him. She was sweet, this lady. Kind of reminded him of the librarian
who’d kept a forty-ounce in her desk back in middle school. Quick with a joke
and loved anyone who noticed she still had a little fire in her. “All right,
pretty lady. I have to take off.” Milo took her hand, giving her one final
spin. “You go easy on the boys at the Third Shift tonight. Just remember who
got you warmed up.”
She doubled over and laughed along with her friends, who’d stayed
behind to watch. “Why don’t you come out and give me a spin yourself?”
“Ah, you know how it is.” He winked at them as he re-buttoned his
shirt. “Hot date.”
Milo left them laughing on the factory floor as he jogged toward
the back exit. Wondering how far Renner had gotten without him, his smile
dimmed. Bet he hadn’t even parked that Mercedes in the gated lot, like he was
supposed to. Maybe the guy liked being reminded. Good. That’s exactly what was
going to happen.
Crisp, fall coolness slithered inside Milo’s shirt when he slammed
out of the factory, the metal door booming shut behind him. He took a right and
hit the sidewalk, knowing Renner liked to park near the coffee shop so he could
feed his caffeine addiction immediately after stepping out of his shiny black
ride in the mornings.
Yeah, he’d been observing his boss somewhat…closely. But not only
for the reason Renner assumed. Also known as the same justification Milo gave himself—that
he wanted to excel at his job. It was more than that, though. Maybe his careful
following of Renner’s movements had begun as a way to keep the factory owner
safe, but it had developed into something else entirely. Curiosity. Even…awe on
occasion. What would it be like to be so comfortable, so sure of himself, the
way Renner was? Being that the guy was private as hell, Milo had a feeling his
boss wouldn’t like it one bit if he knew Milo was following him…hoping to
learn.
The possibility of Renner’s being pissed wasn’t stopping Milo from
going after him, though. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if there was anything that could.
Which was pretty fucking confusing. Considering Milo was carrying a torch for
someone else.
That troubling thought was still weighing Milo down when he turned
the corner and finally heard footsteps. Heavy, purposeful ones that belonged to
Renner. Up ahead, the lights of his boss’s Mercedes flashed, signaling that
he’d unlocked the car with the key chain remote. Any second, he would be safe
inside the vehicle and Milo could go back to his apartment. For now, he would
just hang back in the shadows and watch—
Three men converged on Renner from all sides.
Milo was already running, cursing under his breath about stubborn
city people and gated parking lots. He was still a full block behind Renner, so
he was forced to watch some punches being exchanged…and not surprisingly, some
of them were being thrown by Renner. Built like a hockey goaltender, the man
was intimidating. He just was. That was half the problem with him walking the
dark streets of Hook. There were a lot of good people in this town, but there
were also men who wanted very badly to put rich, arrogant Renner in his place,
and maybe get a packed wallet in the process.
Yeah, Renner was holding his own, but the odds were against him.
He delivered a right cross to one of the hooded attackers’ faces, but two of
the men grabbed him from behind, allowing the punch recipient to get his
revenge. Renner’s head snapped back, and that’s when Milo reached the group,
drawing his Colt in one smooth motion.
“Told you to park in the lot, boss man.”
“Now really isn’t the time, Bautista.”
Milo’s smile was tight as he leveled the gun beyond Renner’s
shoulder. “You’re going to want to step away from him. I’ve got aim for days.”
“Aw, look at that,” said the man who wasn’t holding back Renner.
“His boyfriend came to rescue him.”
“Oh, come on,” Renner said, looking almost relaxed. “He’s really
not my type.”
Milo ignored the weird discomfort in his chest. “Yeah. I won’t
lose any sleep over that black eye he’s going to have, but I would over losing
my job.” He strode forward and grabbed a hold of Renner’s thick biceps, pulling
him out of the men’s hold. Backing both of them up so he could have a clear
angle on all three perpetrators, Milo jerked his head in the direction of the
nearby alleyway. “Are you sticking around so I can call the cops, or what? Get
the hell out of here.”
Milo and Renner were silent as the men took off into the darkness,
kicking trash can lids as they went. Only then did Milo let out the breath he’d
been holding, his arms lowering in degrees. If even two of the attackers had
been carrying weapons, things could have turned out way worse. Thank God they
appeared to be nothing more than some misguided kids. In a close-knit place
like Hook, sometimes judgment calls had to made about what represented actual
danger and what actions could go a long way toward keeping the respect and
admiration of people in town. Still, looking the other way bothered Milo.
Especially when someone could have been hurt. Renner, specifically.
“Next time you might not be so lucky, you know,” Milo said,
turning toward Renner. His usual lecture was poised right on the tip of his
tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word of it when faced
with the swelling of Renner’s right eye. “Shit.” A lump grew in his throat.
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
Renner scoffed and ducked past a cringing Milo. Why had he
apologized like that? The guy was open to sympathy like the military was open
to accepting poodles as recruits. As in, not open to it. That
wasn’t how he and Renner worked. Milo had learned to navigate his boss by
giving as good as he got.
Letting on that he secretly respected and admired the man was out
of the question.
Milo swallowed and tried again, catching Renner just before he
could climb into the Mercedes. “You going to say thank you or anything, you
ungrateful dick?”
Renner had already opened the driver’s side door, but he slammed
it closed now, striding back toward Milo with a curious look on his face.
“Actually, I have a question.” He seesawed his hand between their chests. “What
are you doing? Why do you insist on following me? I’m a grown man, Milo. I have
the right to get mugged in peace.”
“Wow. You just said that out loud.” The back of Milo’s neck pulled
taut at the line of questioning, but he forced a belligerent expression. “I’ve
told you before, this is my job—”
“No.” Renner shook his head. “No. You’re not assigned to
me. I didn’t ask you to be my watchdog. This is all of your own free will.”
Damn. Milo hadn’t
expected this. At least, he hadn’t expected Renner to get in his face like
this. So…close. Like the way he got close with other men? What did he think
about Milo’s face from such a scant distance? “I…uh.” Milo stepped back,
replacing the gun in its holster on his belt. “Like I said, you’re welcome.
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m going back to the city in the morning.” That statement hung
in the air between them like low fog. Or was Milo only imagining it? Just like
he was imagining the hard drumming inside his rib cage? “Before I go, Bautista,
I want you to tell me what all this is about. We don’t even like each other,
right? And yet here you are. You’re constantly around, worrying about my safety.
I…” He loosened his tie with rash movements. “Perhaps the differences in
my…biology make me seem different from someone like you, but I’m the furthest
thing from weak—”
“That’s what it is,” Milo blurted, shocking himself. What was the
point in keeping the truth to himself anymore, though, if Renner was leaving in
the morning? “Not the part about you being weak. I don’t think that. The
opposite, actually. You’ve got a pretty nice right hook there, boss man.”
Renner raised an eyebrow.
“Okay.” Christ. His blood was flowing in seventeen directions, his
tongue weighing as much as a horse in his mouth. This was real. This was
happening. “Okay, I’ve been watching you. All right?”
A heavy beat passed. “Why?”
See, that’s where things got murky. It had started as a way to
study Renner’s confidence, hoping to build his own. Along the way, though, Milo
had gotten…off track. By more than a few degrees. Instead of learning how to be
comfortable in his own skin by following the lead of a man who epitomized
confidence, Milo had developed something of a crush. Who wouldn’t? Renner was
concise, demanding and intelligent, and he didn’t give a fuck who disapproved
of him. A badass who could raise an eyebrow and have employees running for
cover.
Not to worry, though. Milo had righted the wayward course. He was
charted in the right direction once again. In no world did Milo and Renner make
sense. Nor did his boss ever look at him with anything other than vexation. It
was a dumb infatuation on Milo’s end and nothing would ever come out of
it. He actually had a chance with someone else. Someone he genuinely
liked. The man who’d stirred his first attraction to the same sex. Maybe his
ill-advised interest in Renner had been taking a front seat lately, but that
was a proximity issue. Things would change.
A lot of things. Starting now.
“I just…I have a thing for someone. And I don’t know how to
approach him about it.” The drumming in his ears beat louder. “You’re the only
guy I know who—”
“I’m sorry.” Renner held up a finger. “Did you just say you have a
thing for a him?”
Tessa Bailey Bio:
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day
after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop,
driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.
Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while
waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four
walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic
rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the
English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts
to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued
to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of
nine years and four-year-old daughter. Although she is severely
sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about
people falling in love.
Connect with Tessa:
Author Twitter: @mstessabailey
Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TessaBaileyAuthor/
Author Street Team/Facebook Group: Bailey’s Babes
https://www.facebook.com/groups/191945697620644
Author Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/tessabaileyisanauthor/
Newsletter: http://www.tessabailey.com/contact
Enter Tessa’s Giveaway:
