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Sunday Brunch Bites, featuring André

Welcome to the first of a weekly feature, where we’ll take a peek behind the scenes of the books, and on occasion, like now, give you an exclusive peek of another. Here’s a little snippet of André to whet your appetite, which is available for preorder here.


“Marc.”

I frowned. That wasn’t Jake, but I knew it just the same. André, sitting on a piece of cinder block jutting out from the side of the building at the corner, looking as lost as ever a grown man did. I should’ve kept walking. Everything in me screamed to keep walking. So of course I stood rooted to the spot.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “You forget how to get home or something?”

He huffed, his shoulders hunching up and his head dipping. “Nah, that ain’t it.”

I wasn’t going to be moved by the almost remorseful look on his face. I wasn’t. “What’s wrong then?”

“You know how much I want everything you said in there?”

Well, shit. If he wanted it, why weren’t we doing it? “Not enough to say yes.”

“Can I recant my rejection?”

I laughed, a short sharp thing bursting out of my mouth before I could drown it. “What, you change your mind? You want me to dick you down now?”

André’s eyes darkened, that same way they’d done when I’d caught him watching me. When my dick, chillin’ and just waiting for me to get home so I could jerk off, had decided it had a better idea. When I’d given a quick prayer of thanks that Jake’s clumsiness had led me to him. I clenched my fists at my side, both eager and dreading his response.

“I haven’t gotten fucked in forever,” he said. “You’re going to have to go slow.”

Hell the fuck yes. “I can take all the time you need.”

My dick jumped angrily at that. He wanted no parts of slow. He’d have to get over himself.

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