New Tale: The Double-edged Bomb

This book has been out for a bit, but it’s been small news under a pile of big news.

Circlet has served up a double-helping of superhero stories. Volume one is more about superheroes, and volume two about supervillains. You can buy the anthology here.

My story in the first anthology is called “The Double-Edged Bomb,” and it’s the closer.

Hm. Excerpt time? Yes!

The meta-humans had the ability to turn a man into slightly dirty water with their hands. Jamie had asked Phaze repeatedly if he had ever done so by accident, until he realized he was causing his lover so much pain that the answer was probably yes. If Jamie did not trust that he was safe in Phaze’s bed, then what was the point of him accepting Phaze’s invitation to be the first man to go there?

As for Jamie, he’d spent three years in the care of the soul-rapers of Homeland Security, and in the days after Phaze manumitted him from the camp, he could hardly piss unless someone ordered him to. It was too easy for them to hurt each other, and too important that they should not.

Jamie once had lovers who demanded the most strict equality in all sex acts. He had found their bed games ranged from boring to silly. After some experiments, Phaze had agreed. That left the question of how to manage the flow of power and pleasure between them, the sting of lust and the joy of surrender.

Now they giggled at the mock-seriousness of their made-up ritual. Jamie pulled the quarter out of the pocket of his jeans and held it up. It took no extra senses to watch Phaze change. His translucent skin shaded to pink under the candlelight; his breathing accelerated. Jamie rolled the coin between his fingers. He was always the one to toss it. Perhaps it didn’t protect the ritual from tampering, but they had drawn the line exactly there. It gave Jamie a couple of extra moments to tease Phase if he wanted. He was too impatient today, though, and tossed the quarter straight up. It fell on the bed, bounced once, and landed heads up.

“I can see your pupils dilate,” Jamie said to Phaze, feeling the strength of the mutual desire connecting them. “No, don’t look away. Straight at me. While you have the chance. You’ll have your face in my crotch when I fuck your mouth, then down in the covers when I have your ass.”

Phaze flinched. Jamie bit back a laugh. Phaze was easy enough about having any part of his body touched. It had never belonged to him. He had a stock part instead of a Social Security Number. If you wanted to embarrass him, touches didn’t work. But words did. Every time.

“Strip down,” ordered Jamie.

Phaze bowed his head, then pulled off his white T-shirt. The sculpted muscles of his torso emerged, stroked lightly by the candlelight. Jamie watched him brush his pale hair back into place. Then he sat down to unlaced his leather work boots and tucked them under a chair. His faded jeans followed, folded, with his underwear on top. Phaze knelt up on the bed, his wrists clasped at the back of his neck. The hair in his arm pits fanned out in the soft light. His heavy erection hung between his marbled thighs. The dusting of hair he did not remove caught the dim light along with the moisture at the tip of his cock where it showed his need for, his fascination with, the ordinary human who lounged against the pillows.

Jamie unbuttoned his own jeans and reached in to play with the head, teasing his cock with his hand the way he teased his mind with the way he treated Phaze. And folded behind that as the knowledge of what Phaze would do to him the next time the coin fell the other way. Phaze had no childhood, thus a fascination with anything that might speak to it. Like spanking. And he had a very heavy hand.

Phaze eyes followed Jamie’s hand inside his fly. His mouth opened with every appearance of hunger.

“Tell me what you want,” said Jamie.

Phaze said nothing.

“You want to play games?” asked Jamie. “Then get your clothes on and crawl on out of here.”

“I want your cock,” muttered Phaze.

“Oh yeah? What do you want to do with it?”

The corner of Phaze’s mouth twitched. “I want to suck your cock. Give it to me.”

“Manners.” Jamie had let the head peek out some time ago, and Phaze couldn’t keep his gaze off it.

“Please let me suck your cock,” said Phaze.

Then Phaze was lying across Jamie’s lap with is lips wrapped around that fat head, all hard and velvet between his lips. Jamie’s hips moved, and he forced more and more of the shaft down Phaze’s throat. Phaze’s body moved as it relearned, as it did every time, that this form of penetration was not merely tolerable but arousing. Jamie stroked his hair, the back of his neck, and his lips where the shaft disappeared into Phaze’s mouth.