Hi peeps we have V.J. Summers popping in now with her newest release Light A Candle, we have a fantastic excerpt and a brilliant giveaway so enjoy the post and leave a comment (with a way to b contacted) <3 ~Pixie~

Light a Candle

V.J. Summers

Will broke Dusty’s heart their senior year. One unexpected moment of passion between them, and Will freaked out. Not only wasn’t he gay, but he wasn’t kinky either—or so he insisted to Dusty. Their long friendship ended, and Dusty was left with only bittersweet memories of their last movie night together.

Ten years later, out as gay and a Dom, Will auditions for membership at Club Deviant, only to find that he’s been assigned an all-too-familiar submissive. His scene with Dustin feels like fate, and he’s determined to get back what they once had—and more.

Dustin had buried the pain of rejection deep, but playing with Will conjures all his memories of that one electric moment they shared and the friendship it destroyed. He’s built walls around his heart high enough to keep out the Trojan Army, but together, he and Will may find the courage to move beyond their past and face their future together.

Excerpt

“If you don’t have any questions, it’s your turn. For the purpose of today’s scenes, your submissive will use ‘yellow’ if they need you to slow down, and ‘red’ if they need you to stop.” Mistress Cynthia continued laying cool cloths on Tiffany’s reddened flesh. “You indicated you were open to either gender submissive, so I’ve given you one of each to choose from.”

Will turned toward the subs as they approached. He’d made it halfway out of his seat when a pair of blues eyes so pale they nearly glowed caught his attention.

For a moment he was paralyzed even as his mind was catapulted back in time. Frozen pizza and ancient Greece. Slim, sensitive fingers and a deceptively strong body stretched out on a weight bench.

Though he was ten years older, Dustin hadn’t changed much. The face that still starred in Will’s most intense erotic fantasies and haunted his dreams had filled out more. The body was a little less slender, but still rippled with lean muscles under satiny-looking skin. He was hot as fucking hell.

“Master Will, you may now choose your partner for this evening,” Cynthia pronounced.

Will needed no further invitation. He finished standing and walked straight to Dustin.

Dustin looked up at him, gaze full of cool speculation. He hoped he wasn’t imagining something deeper there, something to match the hard knot of want in his own gut.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Dustin even sounded the same, right down to the almost inaudible thread of bitterness in the smooth baritone of his voice.

Will shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? Life is like a box of chocolates.” The brief twitch at the corner of Dustin’s full lips hinted that he might have caught Will’s lame-ass reference to a friendlier time. Or he might just have been trying not to laugh at what an utter moron Will appeared to be.

Time to cut off that train of thought before he psyched himself out.

“Shall we?” He didn’t really want an answer. No, what he wanted was to pin Dustin to the wall and reenact a scene from Brokeback Mountain. He smiled slightly. Recalling Dustin’s movie addiction, it probably would have been right up his alley.

“You aren’t going to flake out this time?”

Oh, that stung, but only because it was true. It would have been easy to let his embarrassment, the remembered panic and mortification, goad him into reacting with anger, but this was Dusty. He’d been aching for Dusty for ten long years. Longer than that, if he were going to practice that ruthless honesty he was so proud of. And the Dustin’s sharp question gave the first hint that he might feel something for Will in return. Even if it was only resentment.

Will sighed. The elephant in the room had to be addressed, as much as his Letters-to-Penthouse adolescent brain wanted to skip to the sex-fantasy part.

“I’ll let your tone slide this time because you’ve reason not to trust me. I gave you reason not to trust me.” He met that cool blue gaze directly and spoke with all the conviction he felt. “Do this with me. I won’t leave you hanging or flake when it’s done. I will take care of you, Dusty. I want to.”

Dustin met his gaze for another long moment before finally giving a decisive nod. Will figured doing a touchdown dance would be tacky, so he restrained himself and merely led Dustin to the table.

The submissive reached for the belt on his robe, but Will stopped him.

“The club contract for today’s scene was pretty liberal,” Will commented, toying with the ends of the belt. “What are your limits?”

“For a membership application scene? No penetration, like you already agreed to. Light bondage only, nothing heavy. No bodily fluids.” Dustin paused, meeting his gaze with a bland look. “No kissing. Other than that, do your worst . . . Oh, wait. You already did your worst.”

Will hated the knowing little smirk on Dustin’s face, the one that seemed to mock them both, as if Dusty hadn’t just given away a decade of pain with his supposedly flippant words.

Dustin reached for the tie to his robe again, and Will brushed his hands away.

“Let me.” Will grasped the belt and slowly pulled it free, enjoying the slippery hiss of the fabric. The garment fell open to reveal tight, sleek skin. His cock filled as he let his gaze travel over every inch of exposed flesh. He groaned inwardly and his perusal halted when it reached the tiny black loincloth covering the other man’s cock.

Dustin shrugged, letting the robe drop to the floor. His body was tanned to a pale gold and as smooth as carved marble, a perfect foil for the length of almost black hair falling to his shoulders and into his eyes, and the deep-rose nipples, which stood at attention, pierced by steel barbells. Will wondered how Dustin would react if he reached out and tugged one of those piercings. With his teeth. His dick throbbed at the thought.

“How do you want me?” Dustin’s matter-of-fact question was like sandpaper over exposed nerves. He remembered the soft, wounded expressions Dusty’d given him when he didn’t know Will could see him—both ten years ago, after the never-to-be-forgotten, disastrous weight room encounter, and now—so the narrow-eyed, cynical smirk he wore when he knew Will was watching was maddening. Will worked hard to control his reaction to Dusty’s coolness. It was different from the slightly reserved way Dusty’d been with pretty much everyone in high school. Yeah, there’d been a coolness back then, but it had lacked this new, brittle edge that hinted adult Dustin could—and was willing to—cut with a word or a look.

Will knew it had to be a matter of self-protection. Or maybe it was personal, a chance for Dustin to get a bit of his own back. Will had ignored him, had not only pretended they’d never shared a sexually fraught moment, but had pretended he didn’t even know Dusty. Tried to erase over a decade of friendship. And no matter how nonchalant Dustin acted now, Will knew he had hurt him badly ten years ago. Still, the detached attitude grated.

Well, if all Dusty wanted was a hard-assed Dom, Will could certainly give it to him.

“On your back, hands behind your head.”

Dustin nodded and crawled onto the table. Long, sleek muscle under smooth, golden skin. Will’s dick was gonna pop his zipper before the day was over.

Will very deliberately dragged his gaze away and turned to a shorter table that was fully stocked with the various tools Mistress Cynthia had demonstrated. He picked a fat white jar candle and lit it first. It would take a little while for the wax to pool in the center, but that was okay. He knew how to fill the time.

Dustin had put his hands behind his head as commanded and waited with his eyes closed, the picture of calm. Will took a deep breath and pushed down a sudden rush of nerves. The first time he’d fucked a man, he’d felt this thrill, and the first time he’d consciously dominated a submissive. Of course, both those times had been missing the faint thread of fear currently woven throughout the nerves. The only thing that really compared to this was the last time he’d touched Dustin.

Then he’d panicked, flaked out. He wasn’t that kid anymore, though, and whether he’d realized it or not before today, he’d been waiting for years to show Dustin he’d figured things out. Will was terrified he’d screw up again, but if Dustin wasn’t responding like Will’d always imagined, well, he knew exactly how to knock that whatever look right off his serene face.

An idea struck, and Will bent and retrieved the silk sash. When he tapped Dustin’s wrists, the submissive raised an eyebrow, but obediently presented his hands. Will wrapped the sash around his wrists several times, not tying them but loosely binding them together before directing Dustin to return them to behind his head. Will gave a little smile of satisfaction. Dustin spread out like a feast had featured in so many of his secret fantasies. The reality was fucking amazing. He picked up a bottle of baby oil and tipped it to drizzle a thin line down the middle of Dustin’s chest, stopping where the loincloth started.

Placing his hands on the smooth expanse of Dustin’s torso, he smoothed the oil in slow circular motions, letting his thumbs trail across the other man’s nipples to tweak the piercings and test their sensitivity, smiling again as he felt Dustin try to suppress a shiver. He’d shaved—or waxed, Will thought with a touch of amusement—and the skin was utterly smooth, not even a scant happy trail to mar the pale-gold perfection. Will dug his fingers lightly into Dustin’s pecs, leaving faint pink lines as he dragged his nails down along the angle of his ribs and then back up to tap the barbells piercing those tantalizing nipples.

Dustin’s body tensed minutely, but his eyes remained closed, his face calm. Picking up the bottle once more, Will poured a slow stream of oil along the top of Dustin’s thighs. Using his palms, he worked the silky liquid up and under the loincloth. The pad of his thumb scraped against the soft, velvety skin of the sub’s balls. Dustin had clearly removed all his body hair in anticipation of the possible scene, not just the hair on his chest and torso. Will verified this fact with a firm sweep of his thumbs to the tender patch of skin above his cock. Dusty’s eyes stayed closed, but the soft line of his mouth grew taut, and his breath hitched a little bit. When the loincloth moved as Dustin’s cock began to swell, Will shoved down a little surge of triumph, and fought off the urge to stroke it. Instead he slid his hands back down the sleek line of Dustin’s thighs as slowly as he’d begun.

He was determined to crack Dusty’s icy façade by the time the scene was finished. God knew he was already a couple of hard strokes away from shooting in his pants.

Setting the oil down, he picked up the candle, swirling the inch or so of melted wax around the top. He lifted it several inches above his wrist and let a few drops fall. The wax was hot but not blistering, and cooled within seconds to a warm, almost silky texture.

Turning back, he held it about a foot above the base of Dustin’s throat, then tipped it and dribbled the wax in a straight line down to his belly button. Dustin squirmed, a tiny movement, but it was another clear sign that he was feeling something very different from indifference. Starting at the edge of black silk over Dustin’s hips, Will repeated the action, spattering upwards on either sides of his navel, and enjoying the way his stomach expanded in a hard, fast breath.

Stepping back, Will examined the cooling wax, shuddering when he realized the plain white paraffin looked like streaks of cum on Dustin’s smooth abdomen.

For more excerpt click: http://riptidepublishing.com/titles/light-a-candle  (Just click the excerpt tab)

About V.J.

When not working the EDJfH (Evil Day Job from Hell), obsessing over whether her parents are getting enough to eat, obsessing that her kid is sexting the boyfriend, making coffee, drinking coffee, or feeding the two cats who allow her to live with them, VJ can be found reading or writing erotic romance—either solo as m/m author VJ Summers, or as the shorter, more quiet half of the “Violet Summers” writing team (the tall half is Sierra Summers).

Giveaway!

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Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on May 23. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries.

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