Brand-spanking new release: WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT.

Well…not so much with the SPANKING, per se. Not in this one. The NEXT one, though…yeah. Big with the consensual spanking. HUGE.

ANYway.

TITLE: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
AUTHOR: Selah March
PUBLISHER: AmberAllure/Amber Quill Press
GENRE: Homoerotic Paranormal Romance/Horror (M/M)
PURCHASE LINK: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot.html

Leo Delacroix considers his psychic gifts a burden till he meets Tommy Mulvaney, a sexy ghostbuster with serious attitude. Now Leo and Tommy are trapped in a house of horrors, facing down an ancient evil. With Tommy’s help, Leo can win this battle. But at what cost?

EXCERPT:

Leo laughed again, gravel-rough and rumbling. The buzz against Tommy’s skin made him shiver like a struck tuning fork, which in turn made him pull away and fight for equilibrium. He was Tommy Mulvaney, for Christ’s sake — the guy one of Missy’s girlhood friends had called “the biggest slut north of the equator.” He’d spent his twenties honing his technique on all the available men and half the women in South Boston, and he’d be damned of he’d let some psychic brainiac get the better of him, no matter how good he looked or how well he kissed.

Leo grinned down at him as if he knew exactly what Tommy was thinking and it amused him to no end. “Let me guess — you want to know how a geek like me learned to seduce a guy like you, right?”

Shit. Really gotta work on the poker face.

“I told you to quit reading my mind.” Tommy looked away and tried to scowl. He was pretty sure he failed spectacularly, mostly because of the way Leo’s hips rolled against his, slow and inevitable as the tide.

“And I told you I’m half Cajun. Seduction’s bred in the blood, cher.” The sudden deepening of Leo’s bayou accent made him sound older and a lot more sure of himself. Plus…

The stammer’s gone again.

Tommy snapped his gaze back to Leo’s face.

But Leo’s expression was open and guileless. When he kissed Tommy once more, there was nothing but sweet heat and the nag of Tommy’s conscience reminding him what an irresponsible fuck-up he was to let this happen.

“You all right?” Leo asked, his lips moving along Tommy’s jaw. And yes, Tommy was all right. Tommy was better than all right — he was was fan-fucking-tastic — but that didn’t change how out of control this was getting, or how it needed to stop. Like, yesterday. Yet every time he tried to speak, Leo shut him up with a hard little bite to his bottom lip.

“Leo,” he tried to say, and it came out like the dirtiest groan this side of a porno flick. Not exactly the discouraging note he was going for. He needed to pull his shit together and–

“Shh.” Leo’s hands came up to cradle Tommy’s face, like he was something precious. “You think too much.”

Tommy would never admit it — not on pain of death — but it was the tenderness in Leo’s touch that undid him. Nobody touched him like that. He guessed maybe he didn’t invite tenderness or care. And that was fine, since he had no need for either.

So why, when Leo smoothed his hands down over Tommy’s shoulders, did Tommy feel something in his chest crack open and give way? He heard himself make some stupid, girly noise. Then Leo pulled him closer, trapping Tommy’s cock between them and turning the discomfort of his arousal into a sharp ache of need.

Leo bent and whispered, his breath like a jet of steam against Tommy’s ear and neck. “I know you’re used to being in control. You want me to back off?”

There it was — Tommy’s chance to put an end to this stupidity.

Instead, he rocked his hips forward. Every nerve ending in his lower body lit up like the fourth of July and Christmas combined. Through his own jeans and Leo’s chinos he felt the hard line of Leo’s cock and wanted it — against him, inside him, it didn’t much matter, so long as it involved skin-to-skin contact and some relief from the arousal that lay over his skin like a thick fog.

Leo grabbed Tommy by the shoulders and spun him till Tommy found himself with his palms flat on the surface of the table, pushing back against Leo’s weight. When Tommy conjured up the ability to speak, his voice sounded weak and shaky in his own ears. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, but we can’t…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I mean, maybe you’re a boy scout with the condoms and lube in your pocket but–”

Leo cut him off with a thrust of his hips. “Don’t be an idiot.”

He fumbled with Tommy’s button and fly, laughing when he discovered Tommy was going commando. “Do you even own proper underwear?”

“Depends on what you mean by proper.”

Without further discussion, Leo spit into his palm and shoved his way inside with a hand that felt like it had been crafted to fit around Tommy’s cock. Tommy bit the inside of his cheek and arched his back, which made his jeans fall off his hips and halfway to his knees.

Shouldn’t feel this good. Gonna be over way too soon.

But the fear of humiliating himself by coming in thirty seconds flat wasn’t enough to keep Tommy from bucking his hips in a silent plea for friction, or grunting an obscenity when Leo complied with a long stroke just this side of too rough — exactly how Tommy loved it. Naturally. The ginormous geek was reading his mind again.

“Fuck.”

Leo snorted against the back of his neck. “Thought you said that was off the menu,” he said, and proceeded to jerk Tommy off like he had a patent on the process.