Mostrando resultados por autor "K.M. Neuhold" en Todas las categorías

Polyamory. The first time Riot says the word, it feels like everything slots into place. Maybe I’m not greedy for loving both of my best friends at once. For most of my life I didn’t think I could ever have the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of, but somehow a sexy bartender with a major sweet tooth is making it all seem possible. Maybe Riot is right, our capacity for love is bigger than most people let themselves see. But will Leo and Hudson feel the same? Will they be willing to try to build this beautiful, complicated life with me?

Pete doesn’t think he’s fit for island life, but he doesn’t know Palm Island like I do. He might think it’s all drinking on the beach and bed-hopping, but maybe if I can show him the beauty and freedom underneath it all, he might decide to stay.

Austin never realized he was painting his life with shades of gray, until Keaton came along and injected a rainbow of color. Keaton is a tornado of chaos and paint, which turns out to be more exciting than I ever would’ve imagined. I love my organized, predictable life...or at least I thought I did. But what started as a casual hookup is slowly becoming so much more, and I find myself loving the beautiful mess more than I expected. Can two people so different really make it work once feelings get involved?

It started with an anonymous post by someone who didn't want to live anymore. I read it over and over again, unable to get it out of my mind. What if my brother Johnny had posted something like this before he'd taken his own life? Would someone have been able to save him? I've been living a lie for 16 long years, and I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to keep it up. And when a beautiful, broken man walks into my tattoo shop asking for a second chance at life, I know I'll never be able to turn him away.

When the band manager, Archer, hires Bennett to keep me from screwing up while the band is on hiatus, I may have finally met someone who won’t take my attitude lying down. With the three of us cooped up together for weeks on end, I have a feeling things might get interesting.

My mind and body are full of chaos; the only time I can truly feel free is when my hands, arms, and legs are secured. Just because I want to be bound, able to give over my pleasure entirely to another person, doesn't mean I want to be controlled, humiliated, or made to endure pain. I'm a successful, happy, confident adult man who wants a lover to tie him up. Why is that so scandalous? And why is it so difficult to find? It doesn't help that I've developed a hopeless crush on my straight roommate. Maybe a fulfilling relationship isn't in the cards for me.

As far as I can tell I don’t have a submissive bone in my body. So why do I like it so much when Marshall calls me his good puppy? I’ve made some impulsive decisions in my life, but signing a contract with the K Boys to shoot an Introduction to Kink series may have been the biggest impulse ever. Sure, the intimate part of it doesn’t faze me, but the rest is way more intense than I had expected. Luckily, there’s Marshall, the consultant who oversees all the shoots. He’s so calm and steady, and he’s there for me when I panic.

We haven't spoken in 15 years, and Marlon is the last person I expected to run into in a bar on Bourbon Street. He's not my gangly internet pen pal anymore; he's all muscles, body hair, and temptation. Our friendship feels like it never faded, but the heat between us is brand-new. We're both in different cities every few weeks, hustling to build our careers and soaking up all the perks of being young, hot, and untethered. But our paths seem to be crossing more and more often.

Most of the guys on Palm Island call me the token straight guy. The truth is, I'm not so much straight as I'm just… nothing. Asexual, demi, the label doesn't make much of a difference to me. And living on an island that's nothing but parties and nudity half the year… well, let's put it this way… I'm the guy who sells clothes.

Most people on the island avoid the hot-tempered chef, but he doesn't scare me. Sure, he's prickly, but I've also caught him feeding a stray cat, so I know there's more to him than the sky-high barbed-wire fence he's built around himself. When Storm's ex-husband shows up unexpectedly during the off-season and refuses to go home, pretending to be Storm’s boyfriend is apparently my new job. Faking it with my grumpy boss should not be this much fun, especially since the last thing I need is to make a fool of myself by falling for anyone else on the island.

All my life, I’ve dreamed of one thing: the perfect movie moment. I want a man and his boombox outside my window; I want kissing in the rain; I want a romantic hero who will take my breath away. Switching mail with my cute neighbor didn’t work. Swapping coffee with a hottie at the coffee shop just got the poor barista yelled at. And bus guy? Total bust. I’m starting to wonder if Hollywood got the whole meet-cute thing wrong. Sacrilege, I know. Is it possible the perfect leading man has been living in the apartment above me the entire time, playing the role of my best friend?

Was pretending to sleep with tons of men to keep my crush from hooking up with them a Dirty Trick? Sure. Do I regret it? Not one bit. Telling Boston I have a thing for him would’ve been the logical thing to do. Unfortunately, logic hasn’t always been my strong suit. I decided to go the—“get under his skin until hostility turns into affection”—route instead, and I think it’s finally working.

Is there such thing as love at first bar fight? I may be small and pretty, but what I lack in intimidation factor, I make up for in violence. I made a vow five years ago that the motorcycle club responsible for my brother’s death would pay the price, and I’m finally ready to collect. May God have mercy on the men who hurt my brother, because I don’t plan to.

I definitely overestimated my own handyman skills when I bought this fixer-upper. I have to say, the view from my new place is worth it though. Especially around seven o'clock every morning when my big, furry bear of a neighbor drinks his coffee shirtless on his back porch. He's dedicated to the bear thing too. Growly, grumpy, and as it turns out, he really likes belly rubs. Am I a sucker for a touch starved grump? Yes. Am I sorry about it? Absolutely not.

In my defense, Saxon is a gorgeous, successful, big-d**k Daddy with a million SUBscribers drooling over his Daddy Cam. He probably has 10 boys a week on their knees...or over his. And I’m nothing but his nerdy roommate and oldest friend. Except, the way he looks at me never makes me feel that way. The way he looks at me makes me think that maybe he sees me too.

He hated me from the second he laid eyes on me, and I don't have the first clue why.... But, if he wants to hate me, I'm happy to give him a few reasons: mowing the lawn at dawn on the weekend, leaving garbage cans in front of his driveway, renting a petting zoo for my backyard...making a list of ways to drive him crazy is half the fun.

What will happen when my secrets are exposed? I’m lying to my mom about how I make my living. I’m lying to the Ballsy Boys about my life. I’m lying to myself about who I am. I pretend to be Campy, but I am Cameron. But does anyone even know the real me? When I meet my new roommate, a sexy Texan cowboy and break-out TV star named Jackson, all my lies start to come out. He makes me want to be myself, but I’ve spun so many lies that I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I thought I had one chance to kiss him, and I blew it. We were 16, and I was an idiot. But now, here he is, standing right in front of me, looking at me with that same expression of awe and adoration that I never lost my addiction to.

I’m everyone’s friend, but no one’s everything...I love working for Ballsy Boys, but when you make the kind of videos I do, relationships are pretty damn impossible. Guys find me sexy and want to either be with me or be me, but no one has ever cared enough to see the real me. Until I meet Troy...who shows up in a banana suit at my door. Long story.

The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?