We’ve all fantasized about the older man next door, or the passing stranger who gave us just enough of a wink that made our imagination go into over-drive. In Jamie Lake’s short novel, Do Me Tonight, he introduces us to the world of Spencer, a farm boy whose life is turned upside down when he meets a sexy farm hand named, Zack. Comment below and the author will select a random winner who will win the audiobook.
by: Jamie Lake
JUST A QUICKIE – 30 MINUTE GAY ROMANCE MM READ
Who he was or where he came from I didn’t know, but what I did know was that ever since he sauntered onto my parent’s farm, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. He was built broad and strong, corded with lean muscle. He had shoulder-length, chestnut hair and sported a 5 o’clock shadow all day. He had intense dark, deep eyes and eyebrows that framed them with a look that told you he was watching you and everything around you with a sly gaze. My mom and dad had hired him to be our farm hand one day when he showed up on our modest farm, of all places, looking for work. Not that there was any shortage of work to be done, I had to admit I was glad someone would be taking some of the workload off me.
He said his name was Zack and that he was good at fixing things, plumbing, taking care of the animals and especially good at working with his hands, as I would later find out myself. His hands were broad and strong with long, lightly calloused fingers.
I was only 18, and while I’d never been outside our small, rural, Oregon town, I was far from the inexperienced virgin my parents thought I was. I’d been known to go down on my knees for the neighborhood farm boys who couldn’t get enough of living out their wildest, dirtiest, most secret fantasies. My parents had no idea I was into men. They’d kill me if they did. My parents were good people, but they were religious people and my ‘lifestyle’ would likely hurt and scandalize them. It made me feel awful to lie to them, to lie to myself, to hide, but I didn’t know what else to do.
My hormones were raging and being stuck in our small town there weren’t many outlets. Most of what I did with the neighborhood farm boys were in secret but they knew where to come knocking when they wanted to get their rocks off and I was more than happy to satisfy them.
Zack, the new farm hand, was different. He was a man, a real man, probably in his late 20s. Under his layers of clothing I could see how well built he was with his broad shoulders and well-muscled chest. He was tall with tawny, tanned skin. I felt dwarfed by him, seeing as how I was much thinner and shorter. I felt intimidated just looking at him, but intrigued. Those full, thick lips were meant for sucking, that tongue meant for licking in all the right places, and vivid white teeth that I imagined were meant for nibbling in all the places that drove me wild. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine those teeth grazing the tender skin of my throat while his broad, rough hands explored my body, drawing pleasured moans from my own mouth. His skin looked like golden caramel, and it only served to make me wonder how he tasted. He looked delicious.
I remember that first day I saw him speaking to my dad along the fence, talking about the sheep and how he would care for them. It was a hot, summer day and the sun was scorching. The dappled sunshine was warm on my skin. Everything smelled green and fresh, the earth damp after a morning rain shower. Zack was already shining with a thin veneer of glistening sweat. I could see a bead of perspiration dripping down his neck and my tongue tingled as I desired nothing more than to lap my tongue over his sweat-salt skin. I wanted to hear him moan.
“We go out of town a lot so we really need someone we can trust,” my father said, chewing on a piece of straw. My father was dressed in dark, denim overalls, with his shirt sleeves rolled up. My dad had always been a ‘good ol’ boy. He’d never lived in a city and had worked on a farm all of his life. He was a traditional man’s man. If he knew my secret, I knew he’d never forgive me. The thought of disappointing my dad by being who I was sent a red flush of shame to my face.
There I was, after all, ogling some stranger. I tried to be sneaky about it, to peek at Zack from the corner of my eye, but even doing that made me feel guilty. What had gotten into me? Checking a guy out like that in front of my super, conservative father? I sighed and jammed my hands into the pockets of my shorts and silently prayed that neither Zack nor my father had noticed my lust-filled glances.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I heard the farm hand say in his deep baritone voice. His eyes seemed to wander and find themselves in my path as I walked by. “If there’s one thing I am, it’s trustworthy.” His deep, mysterious eyes narrowed a little as he took me in. His gaze roved over me and I felt stripped bare before him. A shiver tickled along my skin and it took all I had to repress it. I was drawn in by his gaze immediately as though I were hypnotized.
He had the type of voice that told you he was in control, that he never needed to raise it in order to get what he wanted. His voice was a deep, rumbling, rusty growl, full of grit and thinly veiled menace. The farmhand seemed somehow dangerous.
‘That’s good to know. Hey Spencer,” my father said calling me over “Boy, get over here and meet Mr. Zachariah.” I hated when he called me ‘boy’ like that. It seemed so condescending. I wished my father would show me a little more respect. I was a man after all, even if I was a young one and I wanted my father to treat me as such.
“Yes, sir,” I said, extending my hand at the massive man who was looking me up and down like I was a tasty lamb chop meant to be devoured. A wet, pink tongue looped around his lips as he took my hand. His look caught me off guard. Was this ruggedly, handsome, masterpiece of a man actually checking me out? I tried to play it off as my overactive imagination doing some wishful thinking, but I couldn’t help but entertain it, even if it was only an illusion.
“Zack, actually. You can call me Zack,” he said, his hand gripping mine. His hands were so rough and calloused from hard work. His grip was firm, but not too tight. His thick fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of my wrist. Just from that touch alone, I was reeling. It felt like electricity ,when the air is charged during a rolling, violent thunderstorm. The tension between us was suddenly vibrantly alive, tingling over my skin and making my heart leap in my chest.
Our eyes met and I was mesmerized. His gaze drew me in saying everything, but saying nothing at all. The flinty depths of his menacing look was devouring me and I could almost feel it, blazing hot, roving over my body. He seemed to be studying me, reading me, scanning me, inside of me as if he knew everything he needed to know within seconds. I felt like an open book, naked and spread before him, all my darkest secrets on display. Again, a flush crept up my neck to my cheeks.
That was when his middle finger tickled the center of my hand while he gripped it. The universal signal for those that knew: I want to f**k you. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was serious. Maybe it was an accidental touch. He didn’t look gay. He was so masculine, but then I knew one shouldn’t stereotype or judge a book by its delicious, tawny cover. His slight touch, the drag of his finger over my sensitive palm almost made me gasp. I bit down on the plump of my bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud.
I withdrew as if his hands had turned to ice. I jerked my hand away, as if shocked by some force of nature. His touch was electric and I felt vulnerable before him, as if, by gaze and touch alone, he knew all of my deep, dark, dirty little secrets. Despite the balmy summer breeze, I felt a little chilled. Goosebumps spilled over my skin, and I shivered.
I was intimidated, a little scared, and I don’t know what came over me. I was struck dumb and my ears rang. My breath hitched. How could a man have me so aroused just with an intense look and a tiny brush of his rough finger against my palm? I felt so naughty and embarrassed, getting turned on while my father was right there. I shouldn’t be getting so carried away, but the look in Zack’s hungry, almost animalistic eyes made my heart flutter again, and sent tingles up and down my arms.
He seemed to have a small smile meant only for me that said: I’ll have you one way or another, as my father continued to ramble on and on about the responsibilities at the farm. That smile was sly and predatory with the flash of his ivory teeth under his thick lips.
Want to read more? Purchase info: http://www.amazon.com/Do-Tonight-Gay-Romance-30-MINUTE-ebook/dp/B00O3WHHQQ
Jamie Lake is the author of over 50 gay romances including Do Me Tonight and the Bad Boy series. For more information visit: http://www.bit.ly/JAMIELAKEBOOKS
The author is giveaway one (1) copy of the audiobook of Do Me Tonight to one commenter. To enter, please leave a comment for Jamie after this post. The author will randomly select one winner. The giveaway is open until midnight 12:00 AM EST on January 13, 2015. Winner(s) chosen at random from all eligible entries. This contest is open internationally where not prohibited by law. Open to participants, 18 years or older, who are legally allowed to participate in such a contest as allowed by their local laws. All federal, state, local, and municipal laws and regulations apply. Void where prohibited. No purchase necessary. By participating in the contest, participants agree to be bound by the decisions of the contest sponsor. Prize will be delivered by the author. This blog, its reviewers, and the owner are not responsible for items lost in the mail. By entering this giveaway, participants agree to abide by these terms.