Tristan’s life as a vampire is simple enough when he and his familiar John go out for a drink one night. However, he didn’t count on running into Rory, a guy he shared a steamy kiss with at a party, and he definitely did not plan on John and Rory being attacked by a vampire-werewolf hybrid sent by Tristan’s vengeful brother. Both men are infected, and both men turn, one into a vampire and the other into a werewolf. The attractions, and conflicts, between the three men make sparks fly as they try to learn more about what has happened, but Tristan’s brother has little desire to help them. Tristan was born a supernatural being, but how will Rory and John adjust? And in the end, will both men be open-minded enough to accept the love they could both enjoy with Tristan?
Excerpt: (Warning: explicit content, NC-17)
“I met Tristan at a party, too,” John said. “I was too shy to talk to him even after I had caught him looking at me several times. I’d only had one boyfriend, and we hadn’t gone beyond a few groping kisses. The sexual power I felt from Tristan blew me away.”
“I still feel it from him. I guess.” Rory let out a ragged, frustrated sigh. “Maybe it’s because you’re a vampire now. Maybe it’s that, not something special about Tristan. I reacted to him because he’s hot and a vampire.”
“That could be it,” John said, amazed at how disappointed he felt.
Rory gave him a half smile. “You don’t get what I’m getting at? I was attracted to him because he’s a vampire—maybe—but now that you two are on even footing you’re the one I want.”
“That’s flattering, but it still probably has something to do with that hybrid biting us.”
Rory ran his thumb over John’s lower lip as he cupped his cheek. “You sounded so disappointed a moment ago. If Tristan really won’t care, why can’t we share something? Whether we touch once or ten times, will he care?”
“He is starting to get jealous. A little.” John pressed Rory’s hand to his cheek, kissing the palm.
“You like that. I can feel it.”
John hesitated. How could he deny it? Hearing Tristan say he didn’t like Rory coming between them had turned him on. Tristan asking him to promise nothing would change between them had made him feel like things were changing in a way. “It’s nice to hear him say how much he needs me, too.”
“And right now, I need you.” Rory pulled him in for a gentle but searching kiss.
John reached over and stroked Rory’s cock, making him moan softly. When they parted, John said, “You made a fine point earlier. I would have died if he’d denied me.” The weight of Rory’s cock resting in his palm felt good. Being the dominant one, the one with the power, felt even better. He’d never felt so desired with anyone before.
Rory moaned again and took John’s face in his hands. He feathered soft kisses over his lips. “I’ve never been with a guy before. I kissed a friend I liked, then Tristan.” He moved one hand down and slipped his fingers around John’s cock again.
John pulled him closer as his fingers tightened and stroked with more insistence. “You could have fooled me.” Their kisses became more urgent. The desire he felt coming off of Rory intoxicated him. Was this how Tristan felt that first time they touched? Rory fumbled with his robe trying to untie it. Finally John helped him and pulled it off. Within seconds, Rory was on his knees stroking John’s cock.
“You don’t have to,” John whispered as he focused on him.
But Rory’s face showed how much he wanted to. He licked the tip, then swirled his tongue around the head. Lifting it, he ran his tongue down the underside before taking it in his mouth to suck. He was slow and gentle, and John arched against his mouth. The need for blood began to build as Rory sucked. The bloodlust had only floated in the back of his mind until now, but Rory’s touch made it burn in his veins. For a few moments he guided Rory’s movements, but then he pushed him back. Watching Rory kneel on the floor and start to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving John’s bobbing cock, made John growl low in his throat.
Rory’s hand stilled, and his eyes jerked up in surprise, but that faded as John took him by the shoulders, pulled him back onto the bed and jerked his boxers off. He pushed Rory to the middle of the bed, running his hands up and down Rory’s body. When he felt Rory tremble, he stopped and said, “Don’t be afraid of me.”
“Never.” The word carried such tenderness and trust that John simply stared into Rory’s eyes for several moments. Then he spread Rory’s legs.
“This is what I love. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He took Rory’s cock into his mouth and sucked steadily as he massaged his balls. Rory reached down to rub his shoulders and run his fingers through John’s hair. When John released him, he ran one fang over his thigh. He looked up at Rory, who propped himself on his elbows to watch. John did it again, letting his fang cut deeper, and then he began to suck as his left hand pumped Rory’s cock.
“God, I can’t believe it,” Rory said, undulating his hips on the bed beneath John.
John sucked harder, overwhelmed by how good Rory tasted. His own blood rushed in his ears as the vital fluid that tasted like honey, wine, and spices flowed into his mouth. When the full euphoria hit John, he jerked back and then laved the wound to heal it. John felt half-drunk as he took Rory’s cock back into his mouth and sucked him.