Hi everyone —
Welcome to Big Backlist Weekend! If you’re a BBW veteran, you know that every month i invite one very special author to join me in giving away a copy of one book from our backlists. This month i’m so delighted to welcome the fabulous author, Cardeno C. CC is giving away STRONG ENOUGH. As you know, any CC book is a treat and this one is special.
Here are the rules — you leave one comment to be entered to win either CC’s book or my book. One comment enters you in both drawings. If you have the book you win, we’ll work something out! Winners will be announced on Monday. Okay!
Strong Enough by Cardeno C
When twenty-two-year-old Emilio Sanchez sees handsome Spencer Derdinger walking by his construction site, Emilio makes it his goal to seduce the shy professor. Getting Spencer into bed isn’t difficult, but Emilio soon learns that earning the trust of a man deeply hurt will take time and patience. With a prize like brilliant, sweet Spencer on the line, Emilio decides he is strong enough to face the challenge.
Spencer is surprised when he’s approached by the gorgeous construction worker he’s admired from the safety of his office window. Acting spontaneously for the first time in his thirty-eight years, Spencer takes Emilio home. When the casual hookup turns into the potential for love, Spencer realizes that if he wants to build a life with Emilio, he’ll need to be strong enough to slay his personal demons and learn to trust again.
All Romance ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-strongenough-1271563-149.html
“Hey, hold up!”
Spencer heard the voice behind him and was torn between following the demand or running the remaining few steps to his Accord . Ignoring the person calling out to him would be socially awkward. Not that he was a top authority on social graces, but he was pretty sure running away would be considered rude. So Spencer stopped, took a deep breath, and slowly turned around, keeping his briefcase against his chest.
Of course, he had no idea what kind of protection some leather and paper could offer, or even why he needed protection. Other than the first day he’d seen the handsome man, he hadn’t been caught staring. Plus, they were in a public parking lot, in broad daylight. He was safe.
“Hey, uh, hi!” the guy shouted as he jogged over. “I’m Emilio Sanchez.”
Now that he was face-to-face with the big man, or actually face to neck, Spencer realized he had been wrong in thinking Emilio was as attractive in person as he had been through the window. No, as it turned out, up close and personal the man was even more stunning. The first time he had walked by the construction site and locked eyes with the stranger, Spencer had turned away within seconds. But this time, the broad chest was right in front of him, the sweat-damp T-shirt stretched over muscles Spencer wanted desperately to touch, and as close as they were standing to each other, the scent of sawdust and musk born of hard work permeated his nose. And that quickly, Spencer felt his cock filling.
Not since he’d been a teenager had he experienced spontaneous erections. And in recent years, he had often found them hard to achieve or maintain even when he was naked in bed with a man. Orgasms, whether alone or with someone, were so infrequent that Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. He had chalked it up to age, to stress at work, to some bad relationships in his past, to the fact that he hadn’t ever had a particularly high sex drive. But none of those factors were stopping him now.
Just a few seconds next to this man and Spencer was already achingly hard. Then he gulped and looked up into chocolate-brown eyes and shuddered as his balls drew up and his dick pushed against his zipper. It was as close to cumming as he’d been since an unusually active night with his ex over a year prior. Spencer would have been terrified—should have been terrified—that the man in front of him would notice his erection, but it felt so good to want again, to experience that pull in his groin, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but relief as he lowered his arm so his briefcase covered his bulge.
“We’ve been doing work close to your office, so I’ve seen you around,” Emilio said, making Spencer realize he had been staring, but not talking. Then the stranger held his hand out and added, “I’ve wanted to meet you.”
“Oh!” Spencer looked down at the offered palm and then back up at the handsome face. He switched his case from his right hand to his left, making sure to keep it in place, shielding his groin. Then he took the man’s hand and shook it. “I’m Spencer,” he said, proud that his voice shook only a tad. “Spencer Derdinger.”
“I was right,” Emilio said, sounding quieter, huskier. Spencer waited for clarification about that statement, but it didn’t come. Instead Emilio held his gaze and his hand.
“Right about what?” Spencer finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“That you sound as great as you look.”
Not knowing what to say or how to respond, Spencer started blinking rapidly and stammering. “I don’t… I… what?”
“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” Emilio asked before Spencer had finished processing the earlier comment.
Feeling completely flummoxed, he didn’t know what to say. He looked at his wristwatch instinctively, then back at the man standing in front of him and said, “It’s only three thirty.”
The contrast between Emilio’s shiny white teeth and his deep tan skin and five o’clock shadow made his smile all the more powerful.
“Good point. We shouldn’t wait for dinner. Let’s start the weekend now.”
“Start the weekend…. Wait, what are we talking about?” Spencer asked.
“Well, right now we’re talking about hanging out for a little while and then getting dinner together.” Emilio hadn’t moved his gaze from Spencer’s face for even a second. He didn’t remember ever having someone look at him so intently. It made his legs quake. “But I’m hoping I’ll be able to talk you into stretching things out longer. At least until after breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” Spencer repeated, hating that he couldn’t seem to put together a sentence. He was a numbers guy. Words weren’t his specialty and neither were people, so he didn’t expect to be charming or a brilliant orator, but a complete sentence would have been nice. Of course, before his mouth could work, his brain would need to catch up to the situation at hand.
“Yes.” Emilio raised his free hand and covered the back of Spencer’s with it, making him realize they were still holding on from that handshake. “I make a mean omelet,” he said as he moved his fingers over Spencer’s skin with barely there touches. “Do you have jalapenos?”
“No.” Spencer shook his head and then wondered why he had answered the question. The entire conversation made no sense. “But—”
“That’s okay. We can always pick some up later. I’ll come by now and check your fridge to see what else we’ll need.”
Truly, the entire conversation was confusing to the point where Spencer wondered if he was dreaming. He half expected a frog to ride by on a flying bicycle at any moment. He could think of only one possible explanation that would lend some logic to the situation, but it seemed very unlikely. No way was this man looking to hook up with him.
At the risk of getting punched, or worse, Spencer steeled his courage and said, “Uh, Emilio.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Are you, uh, coming on to me?”
As soon as he said the words, he realized how ridiculous they sounded. Emilio was all cut muscles, chiseled features, and perfect hair. Someone who looked like that wouldn’t have given Spencer a second glance ten years ago, when they would have been closer to the same age. To think it was happening now, when he was softer, grayer, and more lined, was positively preposterous.
But then, contrary to any expectation Spencer had for the response to his question or, for that matter, the entire conversation, Emilio lifted their joined hands to his mouth and gently kissed Spencer’s palm. Spencer was pretty sure nobody had done that to him, ever, and it made his heart flutter.
“Yeah, I am,” Emilio said. “But if you have to ask, I must not be doing a very good job of it.” Emilio grinned as he spoke and his eyes sparkled. “I’ll see what I can do to be more clear once we get to your place.”
The corners of Spencer’s lips tilted up in response. How could he not smile with this man looking at him like that?
“Oh, holy shit!” Emilio gasped as he let go of Spencer and pressed his own hand against his chest. “You have dimples.” He sighed loudly. “I think I’m in love.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped and all the color drained from his face. “What?”
Without bothering to answer his question, Emilio pointed at Spencer’s Honda and asked, “Is this your car?” Spencer nodded. “I’ll follow you to your place, okay?” Emilio didn’t wait for an answer, just dipped his face down, planted a kiss on Spencer’s cheek, and jogged back to his truck.
It was the single most perplexing exchange of Spencer’s life. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, what he was supposed to do now, or what was going to happen. With his entire body trembling, he decided to perform simple, familiar tasks: walk, open his car door, put the key in the ignition, and pull out of the parking lot.
He drove home on autopilot, his brain still in that parking lot processing his interaction with the handsome younger man who had looked at him in a completely unfamiliar way. Then he glanced at his rearview mirror and saw the big white truck following him. It was terrifying, like having a freight train barreling straight at him.
No, that was a bad analogy. With a freight train he’d know what to do—jump out of the way as fast and as far as possible. But this was a gorgeous man with an unexpectedly gentle touch. So, contrary to any logic he should have been smart enough to have or self-preservation instincts he was old enough to have developed, Spencer didn’t drive to the nearest police station or a friend’s house or a public place. Instead, with his heart slamming against his ribcage, his breath coming out at an unusually fast clip, and his dick still hard as steel, he continued to drive straight home.
F.A.S.T. Balls by Tara Lain
Available at AMAZON ARe
Firefighter and surfing champion, Jerry Wallender, looks like a hero to the world, but he can’t see it. He keeps falling for these intellectual guys who end up making him feel dumb and unneeded. On top of that, Mick Cassidy, super-gorgeous firefighter and total homophobe, makes Jerry’s life miserable with his slurs. Then one day Mick’s nice to Jerry and, at the Firefighter’s Ball, Jerry offers a helping hand and ends up with a hand-job. What the hell is going on?
Mick Cassidy is great with fighting fires and solving math problems but rotten with people. Raised by a gay-hating preacher, Mick’s carefully constructed world of gay bashing starts to crumble when he meets Jerry, the nicest, kindest man he’s ever known. Mick’s never wanted a woman and can’t stop thinking about sex with Jerry. In fact, he can’t stop doing it. Does that make him gay? And if he’s gay, what happens to his whole life? A hook-up between sweet Jerry and mean Mick might be total disaster — or the smartest idea Jerry ever had.
Straight nodded and positioned himself at the foot of the stairs.
Mick tested each stair before he applied weight. One gave way but he jumped to the next.
Heat searing now. He bent double and moved like some round-backed animal up three more stairs to what would have been the top if much had been left. Damn. Where was he?
He pressed against the only wall not burning and sidled his way down the hall to what must have been the bedrooms. It seemed like it took a year of inching but he got to a door frame and looked in. On the far wall, he saw what was left of a single bed like for a kid.
The floor of the room was mostly missing. Burned through.
He leaned forward. No. No, God. Lying on the floor a story below was a firefighter. It had to be Jerry. Crumpled like some bad voodoo doll or something. His breathing apparatus stuck out from under a burning board. The caved-in floor had caught fire to the fabrics in the room and a huge blaze was consuming a couch and fallen floorboards only feet from his head.
Mick pressed himself against the wall again and forced himself to go slow. If he died, so did Jerry. When he finally got back to the stairs, he ran down, with charred wood cracking under his boots. He hit the ground, pointed his arm, and ran toward the hall to the back of the house on the first floor. He rounded a corner and staggered back. Flames licked up the walls on both sides like an arc of fire. He crouched real low and burst through to a short section of hall barely burning. Straight volleyed through beside him.
Then he stared.
The space ahead must have been a family room. Now it was pure inferno. He knelt and peered under the fire. Yes, Jerry’s body lay beyond a wall of flame. Mick’s heart and head disconnected. One wanted to leap headfirst through the flames and grab that fallen body in his arms. But the firefighter’s brain calculated. There was a chance of slipping through the burn low and on the right side.
Straight knelt beside him. Mick pointed at the area and mimed his going through. He reached for the RIT Bag in Straight’s hand. The man pulled it back and shook his head. What the hell? Mick used his extra reach to grab the bag and pull. Straight pulled back.
Mick screamed through the speaking diaphragm. “What the hell?”
Straight peered into Mick’s mask. “Our chance. Leave him.”
What? “No way.” He waved his arms wildly.
“Your father’s mission. One less fag.”
Mick stared at him. Every ounce of blood felt frozen. Everything he’d been taught stared through his mask. Discriminate…judge…despise…hate…and finally kill.
The scream came from somewhere he’d never been. Some place in his soul that had never seen light before. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!”
Thank you so much to CC and to you for visiting. Remember to leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win in both drawings.