Showing results by author "K. M. Neuhold" in All Categories

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?

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?

They say I’m a super genius, but would a super genius make the outrageously stupid mistake of falling for his roommate? Out of all the men in the world, I had to go and develop a crush on the one who’s already in love with his best friend. But when Theo tells me he found my drawer of toys, the only logical thing to do is to offer some no-strings fun.

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.

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.

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.

Everybody loves Pixie. Everybody wants Pixie. But Pixie needs a Daddy, and his heart is set on me. I’m determined to resist him, for more reasons than I can count. He’s too young for me. He’s my employee. And he’s everything I’ve been avoiding for half my life. He’s vibrant. He’s sweet. He’s absolutely perfect, no matter how much I don’t want him to be.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

Sex has never been my main priority. Not what people expect to hear from someone who’s been head camera man for the single best studio in the kind of industry I work in. I thought I’d seen it all working for the Ballsy Boys, but helping to build the Kinky Boys from the ground up seems like it’s going to be an eye opening experience. A man has never turned my head before, so why can’t I stop checking out Daddy? Sex might not be the height of excitement for me, but watching subs kneel for their Daddies certainly has me wondering....

Lewis. Clingy, needy, Too Much. Just a few choice words from men who never deserved me anyway. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again though. I plan to ride the motorcycle hottie of my dreams just until we both get bored. Besides, who has time for anything but a quick fling when the jerks at the tattoo shop next door insist on doing everything they can to annoy the hell out of me with some stupid prank war?

I feel like I've been fighting my whole life, and tapping out has never been an option. I can live with owing money to the Morettis. I can even live with the constant guilt that my brother is the one paralyzed in a hospital bed while I live his dream. What I can't live with is Elio Moretti, second in command to the infamous crime family, showing up to all my fights, sitting in the front row, watching me like he can't look away, and barging into the locker room to patch up my wounds and invade my space.

Saying I've had a crush on my best friend's older brother, Pax, most of my life is like saying the big bang was just an explosion. It's true, but I'm not sure that quite captures the essence of its true enormity. I don't think my advanced physics knowledge is going to help me figure this one out. But I think for once I'm okay with not knowing, as long as Pax and I don't know together.

How does a guy who vowed not to trust another man ever again end up falling for not one, but two men? Some people might look down on being an adult star, but this job has been my salvation. It’s the only one that didn’t turn me away when learning about my criminal record. After being screwed over by my ex, I vowed to never let another man close, but when my sweet, nerdy friend Mason asks for my help improving his skills in the bedroom, I can’t resist. And then there’s my gorgeous yet grumpy parole officer who has made it his mission to save me.

Casual fun with my emotionally stunted, overgrown frat boy roommate slash co-worker should be perfect, right? Shep seems to be just as allergic to commitment as I am to emotions, but that doesn't mean we don't need our stroker rods serviced, if you catch my drift. Now if he'll just stop looking at me with those dopey puppy dog eyes while I'm elbow deep in a diesel engine, and making my stomach flip with that smile of his, that would be great…

I’ve been living under storm clouds since my honorable discharge, but Julian’s the sun. I’ve tried everything to deal with my PTSD, but nothing seemed to help. So when my brother suggests a service dog, I figure I don’t have anything to lose. The last thing I expect is for the dog to come with a cheerful, quirky trainer I can’t get out of my head. I’m too screwed up for love, but a chance to explore a side of myself I didn’t realize existed until recently is too good to pass up.