by Sean Michael

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Sometimes unpredictable is exactly what's needed, but can Corner Pub owner Damon convince shy Thursday night regular Toby of that?

Damon loves his life—his bar, his employees and his beer. He especially loves Thursdays. That's when the mysterious little red-head dances into his bar, drinks two honey wheat brews, and flits right back out.

Toby's comfortable. He has a good job, great friends, and he gets paid to do what he loves—sculpt. His life is great, if a little predictable. And if he secretly wears a plug to Corner Pub every Thursday, well...that's nobody's business but his.

But when Toby meets Damon, his predictable little life flies right out the window. Damon shows him the big, wide world of the Dom/sub lifestyle, plugs and piercings, and teaches him that maybe, unpredictable is exactly what Toby needed all along.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781781849569
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group
Publication date: 02/21/2014
Series: Beer and Clay , #1
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 109
Sales rank: 665,023
File size: 691 KB

About the Author

Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organising his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channelling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago". A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys. Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

Read an Excerpt


Damon tapped the keg and smiled at Pete. The on tap beer was back up for sale. The new microbrew was proving popular, and he needed to order it in bigger quantities. He'd been looking for a local company to pair up with — maybe he'd just found one.

He wiped his hands on a rag, patted Pete on the back and made the rounds of his bar, making sure everyone was happy, but not sloppy drunk, keeping an eye on Freddie, the sweet twink who was moving between the tables and the bar, serving drinks and flirting like crazy.

It was just another Thursday night at the Corner Pub.

His eyes went to the stool at the corner of the bar where the quiet redhead sat drinking the first of two honey wheat brews, just like he had every Thursday night for what? Three years?

He'd made up a thousand fantasies over what the guy's story was. The man was lovely — shoulder length, bright red hair, always in jeans and a button-up, skin pale as milk. He never spoke to anyone — didn't check his phone constantly, didn't scowl or anything.

Damon thought that if there was a Thursday when the man didn't show, he'd be alarmed. But so far, the redhead hadn't missed a single one. Damon spent another moment simply watching. There was something incredibly intriguing about the man.

He didn't know why he chose this Thursday to do it, but Damon found himself moving behind the bar and heading for the redhead at the end of it. "You ever want to change things up, let me know."

"Pardon me?" Eyes the color of sherry blinked at him, so lovely.

"You always have two honey wheat brews. If you want to try something else, let me know."

"Oh, thank you. These are very tasty." The man's voice was husky, soft.

That had him grinning. "I figure they have to be — you come in for two of them every week."

"I do. It's your place, hmm?"

"It is." He held his hand out to the man. "Damon Wattle."

"Toby Baer." The man's hand was warm, callused.

"Nice to meet you." Which seemed weird to say, given the man had been in here once a week for three years.

"Yeah, yeah, it is."

"So what's your story?"

"My story?" He got this curious look, a tilt of the head. "I'm not sure I have one."

"No? You come in by yourself every Thursday night and drink two beers. Then you leave. You never talk to anyone, you never deviate. What's up with that?"

"Oh, Thursday is my day at the gallery." He got another grin, quick and whimsical, charming. "You know, The Spotted Pig? It's a co-op. My day is Thursday."

"You're an artist?" It fit somehow with the whole redheaded, pale-skinned vibe.

"A sculptor, yes."

"How intriguing."

Toby chuckled, eyes laughing along. "Mostly it's filthy, but it's fun."

"Oh, there's fun in being filthy, isn't there?"

"I think so, yes."

Was that a wink?

He grinned, suddenly wanting to be alone with this man.

Teddy, the big bear of a bartender, stopped by. "You ready for number two?"

"I think so, yes."

"I'll have one, too, Ted." He moved around, sitting on the stool next to Toby.

"Sure, boss." Teddy pulled two mugs and handed them over.

Toby dug out a twenty, handed it to Teddy.

Damon took the twenty and handed it back. "This one's on the house."

"Are you sure? Thank you."

"I'm sure." He admired the slender form.

"That's very kind." Toby made sure to put a fiver in the tip jar anyway. Toby was clearly a good guy.

Damon licked his lips, finding himself wondering what Toby was into. The guy had a subby vibe to him, though he supposed that could just be wishful thinking.

"Do you like running a bar?"

"I do. I like the fact that there's different things to do and different people to meet."

That earned him a nod, one of those quick little smiles. A man could become addicted to those smiles.

"I ... Can I ask you a question?" Toby asked.

"Please do."

"Have you ever posed?"

He had to admit, the question surprised him. "As a model, you mean?"


"No, never. Would you like me to?"

"I would, if you're willing."

"I'm willing." He took a drink from his glass, the beer sweeter than he usually drank. "Have you ever worn a plug?"

Toby's eyes went wide, then the man's lips pursed. "Pardon me?"

He gave Toby a friendly smile, held the man's gaze. "I said, have you ever worn a plug?"

"I ... I'm not sure exactly what you're referring to."

"No?" He leaned in, suddenly sure that Toby did know what he was talking about. "I'm talking about the toy that goes up your ass."

"I ... I ..." Toby stopped and swallowed hard, his cheeks bright red. "I don't ... That was an odd question."

He held Toby's gaze. "Odd or not, you didn't answer it."

There was an electricity between them, one that made his cock ache. He kept staring, that electricity sparking, increasing the longer he waited Toby out.

Someone walked by Toby, accidentally bumping the man, breaking their gaze. Damon wanted to growl, to snarl at the guy who'd walked by. Instead he let his hand touch Toby's arm and linger there.

Toby's eyes closed, lips opened.

Fuck, just look at that. Damon followed his instincts, leaning in to press his lips to Toby's. He felt the soft little moan more than heard it. Toby leaned into him for the barest second. He let his tongue flick out and touch Toby's lower lip before Toby backed away.

"You kissed me."

He grinned. "I did."

"I don't think anyone's just randomly kissed me before."

"That's a shame. You're very kissable."

"You're very forward." Toby grinned at him, the look part nerves, part tentative flirting. "So, if you're interested in posing, I'd love to get some pictures to work with."

"Are we talking naked posing?" He could flirt right back.

"If you're comfortable with it."

"I'm very easy in my skin, Toby. Of course I'd like it better if my photographer was naked, too."

"Listen to you." Toby chuckled, cheeks pinking.

"Wouldn't you like to be naked with me?"

"I ... I have to admit that I've never. I'm not ... active."

A virgin? No way. "You've never made love?"

"I just came out, recently."

"Oh! Well, congratulations, man." Damon smiled, trying to keep it from being too predatory. "I'm a great teacher."

"Can you teach someone how not to be worried?"

"I can promise you I'll make it good. Why are you worried?" Toby was intriguing.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable talking about this."

"Finish your beer. I bet that would make it easier."

"I'm not sure about that." Toby drank his beer, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Maybe you need another then."

"No. No, I have to be able to get home safely."

"Being safe is good. So is not drinking and driving, so I'm glad to hear that." He slid his fingers along Toby's knee.

The man's thigh jumped, jerked under his touch. "I'm ... I'm in over my head here."

"Would you like to come upstairs with me, and we can talk about it? Teach you to swim?"

"I ... Really just talk?" Those pretty eyes searched his face.

"I won't promise not to try to convince you to do more, but yes, just to talk." He did a mental inventory. "I have coffee and cookies."

"I would love a cup of coffee, thank you."

"Then come on." He waved at Teddy and signaled that he was headed upstairs. Teddy just stared as Toby stood, followed him.

Damon watched the man's ass as Toby preceded him toward the back. He finally had to go ahead, unlocking the door to the stairs and guiding Toby up.

He had the feeling Toby was taking a huge chance, and Damon was incredibly intrigued. He led Toby to the kitchen, started putting together the coffee.

Toby sat at his kitchen bar, watching him, silent.

"So what are you worried about, Toby?" He took down a couple of mugs, then put the container of cream and a box of sugar cubes on the bar.

"Thank you. I just ... I had a girlfriend for a few years, but then she found things I was reading online and left me."

"Were you using her as a beard, or were you in denial?" He'd get to what Toby had been looking at in a moment.

"I wasn't using her. I don't think I was using her. If I did, I didn't know it." Toby sipped his coffee. "They say that fantasies are just that, don't they? They you can fantasize, read about stuff, and it's not ... real."

"So what were you reading about that she objected to?"

"Men together. Having sex. Being in ... situations. You know. Online."

He chuckled. God, Toby was cute. "Being in situations?"

"Yeah." Toby couldn't meet his eyes. "I'm still ... trying to work shit out."

And in three years Toby had advanced from sitting on a bar stool in a gay bar to ... sitting on a bar stool in a gay bar.

"Let me help." He poured their coffee, put it in front of Toby then leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss wasn't chaste, or gentle. Damon believed that sometimes you just had to go for it. He pressed his tongue against Toby's lips.

Toby gasped and opened for him, like a natural. Someone needed to stop working shit out and start doing. Feeling.

He plunged his tongue in and fucked Toby's mouth. Surprisingly strong hands landed on his shoulders as Toby arched, pushed right up against him.

He slid his arm around Toby's back, supporting and pulling Toby in closer at the same time.

The flavor of that mouth was sweet, hoppy from the beer, and Damon focused on tongue-fucking all of Toby's worries away. He got his free hand around Toby's ass, squeezed.

That tight little butt jerked, and Toby pulled away.

"I ... don't ..."

"You don't what? Kiss? You seemed to be doing a mighty fine job to me."

"No. I mean. I have to — I ..."

He stared Toby in the eye. "What are you trying to tell me, honey?"

"I have to go. This is ..." Toby's cheeks were almost purple.

"This is just what you need. Talk to me, Toby." He squeezed Toby's ass again.


Toby jerked, pressed back against his touch for half a second, and he felt something hard.

Damon's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "You're wearing a plug!"

"I have to go." Toby turned, heading to the door at a run.

"Toby. Stop right there." He said the words sternly, making it an order.

When the man stopped, Damon almost creamed his jeans.

He walked over, moved around so he could look into Toby's eyes again. "There's no shame in taking what you need."

"I ... I don't know ... I can't ..."

Poor, panicked boy.

"Shh." He brought their lips together again, looking to derail the panic train. Someone was desperately searching for satisfaction, release. He slid his hand along Toby's chest, moving steadily toward the man's waistband and what lay beneath it.

Toby's chest was moving, body shaking hard.

He just kept kissing, hand finally reaching the hard cock pushing at Toby's zipper. He stroked it through Toby's pants, learning the shape of it.

Toby stared at him, tongue pushing against him, untutored, hungry. That sweet erection was fat, heavier than Toby's lean build suggested.

He grabbed hold of that sweet tongue and sucked on it, pulling hard as he wormed his hand into Toby's pants.

Toby groaned, stiffened then pushed into his hand.

"That's it, Toby. I've got you, honey."

"I haven't — I'm not —"

"Shh. Just let the pleasure have you." He popped the top button of Toby's jeans to give his hand more room to jack the thick cock.

Toby's cock was cut, slick with pre-cum and shaved.

Christ. This boy was like a gift, and the son of a bitch had been right there for three years.

He dragged his fingers along the shaved skin and rubbed the tip of Toby's cock before circling it with his thumb and forefinger and stroking.

"Oh, God." Toby went up on tiptoe. "Oh, God. Please."

"You can come, Toby. I want to smell you."

Toby's head fell back, long throat working as spunk heated his fingers.

The scent washed up, and he made sure he had Toby's attention as he brought his hand up and licked at his fingers.

Toby's knees actually buckled.

He grabbed hold of the man, keeping him from falling onto the floor.

"I ... I don't know. Whoa."

"Easy, honey. Orgasms have a way of making the knees wobble."

He copped a feel of Toby's ass while he was holding the man, deliberately running his fingers across Toby's crack. Sure enough, a plug was there, spreading that hole.

"Fuck, that's so sexy, honey."

He tapped on the end of it.

"I ... You shouldn't ..."

"Why on earth not?"

Toby groaned, his lips near Damon's ear. "I wanted to try it. I wear it on Thursdays, walk around, work. I'm so ... I just ... God, I'm so ashamed, and now someone knows."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It turns you on, doesn't it? It makes you feel sexy. You want someone to know. You want someone special to know so you can play with them." Damon thought of all the fun they could have with plugs. Big ones. Little ones. Vibrating ones. He could make Toby wear them at work meetings. At home.

"I don't know what to do, man."

"Come to bed with me, and we'll play with your plug. Maybe fill you with something else, too."

Toby had to realize that his wants and needs weren't sick, weren't bad.


That was a delicious confusion.

"Me, honey. Me."

"I'm scared. We're strangers. I can't ... I can't fucking cope with this."

"You need to breathe, Toby. Let me take the plug out, re-lube you. And we're not strangers. You're in my bar every Thursday night, and we're learning more about each other every moment."

"I don't disgust you?"

"You excite me. You make me want to do a lot of kinky things. You do not disgust me." Was that really what Toby thought? That he and his desires were disgusting? Who'd done that to this lovely man?

He drew Toby in, cradled them together. "Come to bed with me, honey. It'll be wonderful." He started walking toward his bedroom.

"I'm not sure this is a great idea."

"That's okay because I'm sure it's a fantastic idea."

Toby offered him a nervous chuckle.

He stopped and gave the man a kiss. "A very fun idea."

"I could use a little fun."

"Now that's what I like to hear." He led Toby into his bedroom.

"Don't mind the mussed up sheets. Or the laundry on the floor. I wasn't expecting company."

"You should see my apartment. It looks like a tornado hit it."

He grinned. "The sheets are clean at least. Or at least cleanish."

"That's better than mine, then."

Laughing, he tugged Toby to the bed. Now all he had to do was get Toby into it. He stole another kiss, then another, encouraging Toby to relax. Working at a snail's pace, he undid the buttons of Toby's shirt.

The man was bare. It almost looked like he had waxed. It was like unwrapping the best present. Sensual and sexy. God. How could this man be not only single but a virgin, too?

He slid his fingers across one nipple, then the other. They tightened, drew up for him. Humming happily, he stroked back over them, then again.

"Oh." Toby grabbed his wrists. "Wow."

"You didn't realize they were sensitive?" Toby'd gone as far as to shave and put in a plug, how could he have missed his sensitive tits?

"I just ... They'll ache later."

Ah. Someone had discovered and played. A lot by the sounds of it. "That's kind of the point, isn't it?" He tugged his hands out of Toby's and pinched this time, both together.


"No? Of course it is. You feel good and then you ache, and every time your shirt brushes your nipples, you'll remember this."

He swooped down and took another kiss, pinching the tiny nips firmly, loving how Toby called out for him.

He fucked Toby's lips with his tongue, working those little nips like he was trying to work them right off.

He knew that tight little ass was working the plug. He knew.

He wanted to take it out, put in one of his own. Something wicked and ridged, something to drive Toby crazy.

Toby pulled away, crying out. "Gonna — Man, I can't ..." "So come again. That's a good thing, honey."

Toby looked at him, wide-eyed, and shot, entire body flushing dark.

He groaned, the scent amazing. "God, you smell good."

"I ... I can't breathe. Damn."

He pushed his lips against Toby's again, breathing into the man's mouth, filling Toby's lungs. "There."

Toby stepped forward, moaning, hands wrapping around his waist.

"You want to learn more, honey?" He didn't have to ask — he knew the answer.

Toby stared at him, nodding, his lips swollen.

"Good answer." He took Toby's mouth again, pressing the man toward the mattress. He pulled off the little biker boots, the man's jeans. God, Toby was hot. Groaning, he leaned in and licked at Toby's abs.

Toby curled up around him, humming softly.

Kissing his way upward, he grabbed hold of Toby's underwear and started tugging them down over the man's hips. He wanted this fine body spread wide for him, exposed, so he could explore.

He pulled Toby's underwear right down and started kissing his way back up, this time starting at Toby's ankle. He encouraged the lean legs to spread for him, with each kiss.

By the time he got to Toby's inner thighs, he was able to see the man's little hole, the end of the plug peeking at him.

He reached up, jostled it good and hard, and Toby's shoulders left the mattress.

Chuckling, he did it again. "God, you're a beautiful slut, aren't you?"

"I don't ... You shouldn't say that."


Excerpted from "Malting"
by .
Copyright © 2014 Sean Michael.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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