New Release: Taken Bi Love by Amber Rose Thompson

Blurb:

Sex for pay is the way Brian likes it. No talking, no intimacy, no ties. His body for sale to whoever pays the price. Then his sister guilts him into taking on Rebecca, a virginal, man-shy customer on a pro bono basis. Soon, Rebecca's "no's" become "yes's". Now Rebecca wants him to talk before she's willing to get undressed. Soon, their forced intimacy makes Brian reassess what he really wants from sex, and Rebecca throws caution to the wind when she finds an orgasm is what makes life worth living. What neither expects is to discover their own sexuality and preferences, resulting in a surprise happy ending - when each is taken by bi-love - because sometimes sex has a way of rewriting the rules for love.

Links:

Tied To Passion http://shop.renebooks.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=THOMPSONAR-01

Taken Bi Love http://shop.renebooks.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=THOMPSONAR-02
Scheherezade’s Gift http://shop.renebooks.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=THOMPSONAR-03

Excerpt:

Taken Bi Love: Chapter One

Brian craned back his neck.

Brown hair flopped, hanging limp like beagle ears. Overhead water spurted, and his eyes shut from the barrage as air momentarily caught in his chest. He forced himself to breathe as the water cascaded over his nose making rivulets down his chin and over his throat.

Skin, shaved nearly free of hair from the night before, glistened with residue body oil still clogging his pores. Water mixed with oil, causing pools of vanilla bourbon to stain the water swirling at his feet.

Heat reactivated the oil, and his thoughts retreated back to the night before and the serious manhandling session; soreness still radiated outward from his butt hole.

Brian forced open his eyes; long curling lashes weighed down with water. Drops hit his eyes, forcing his thoughts back into the present. He despised it when clients invaded his shower space. They paid for his ass and dick in bed. No one, no one, got his shower time.

All verbal contracts firmly stipulated shower scenes as off limits and non–negotiable. Showers were serene, pure, clean, solitary endeavors. Some people meditated; Brian showered. Concept was the same but results differed. His cleanliness was physically present in the now, not an ephemeral state of consciousness.

People seriously underrated showers. With water turned on full power, sounds outside his meditation chamber disappeared leaving him gloriously alone to the sanctity of soap and scalding water. Turning up the temperature, he burned off the touch of last night. Meaty hands from a college football player, number Seventeen in specific, were all over him, particularly the lower half.

 Seventeen had shown no interest in Brian's hair or youthful body. Instead, Seventeen had paid for a very intimate long petting, fondling, and thrashing session with his ass and cock. Evidently the local cheer leading squad couldn't quite satisfy Seventeen's need for dick and ass simultaneously. A cheerleader with a strap on performed quite

differently from a swollen cock yanked mercilessly from the body while the ass was drilled for oil.

Brian looked down at his groin hoping there was no physical bruising or abrasions to hide. None. He was in the clear. His dick hung firm, not a centimeter smaller than at its most engorged – handy oddity for his side job. The perpetual 3-D lines of his groin helped nail potential clients without the need for fancy clothes or winning commentary. In a strange way, his crotch meant he had a very quiet job when it came to actual talk. And he liked it that way. He was all about the silence.

Taking ample soap, he lathered antiseptic gel around his cock and balls. Studying about contagious diseases alongside his work, meant showering was not only meditative but schizophrenic to a manic level, a dichotomy of forces that only water could balance. Showers were not over until his skin was wrinkled like a walnut shell and clean enough to use as a surgical surface. Silence and cleanliness. He was a monk with an interesting way of making the world a better and happier place.

Cupping each ball, he massaged in the soap filling valleys and ridges of his pleated scrotum with microbe eating suds. Brain could switch between dominant or submissive in bed, but when it came to his genitalia he personally pulverized the soap into them. Call it his personal fetish. While it certainly did go towards his goal of being clean, it also felt damn good to be the one squeezing his own balls.

Clasping each sack, he kneaded his fingers, digging deep to hidden testicles waiting to be stirred back to action. Hard wired, his balls rose to the stimulation, elevating towards his shaft for active duty. Prodding and poking he shook each fistful like a cat trying to break the neck of a soft furry animal.

Juggling them, he let the shower rain over the soap tingling skin to jump alive with a hundred nerve endings sparking in response. His skin stretched hoping for continuation.

Tugging his sack in towards his tight stomach, he exposed his shaft and ran his fingers up and down, forming a ring between pointer and thumb. Soap trailed over the ridge and onto his reddening head. Massaging the tip, he spread himself to let soapy water bubble around his urethral opening. Despite all lube used, friction had worn him down from hand to shaft combat, and the soap found every sensitive spot from the tug-o-war game Seventeen had begged him to play as Seventeen charged into his ass calling out orders on how to tug or pummel.

From the heat and soap, his cock didn't so much swell as rise up in hopes of finding an orifice to insert tab A into any slot. Brian whacked it for its impertinence at suggesting it felt needs after Seventeen's slaughter, but the cock didn't care. Seventeen was history

and it had been hours.

Holding his piece by the tip, he bent it towards his perfectly triangular patch of pubic hair, the apex of the triangle pointing downward suggestively. Clients really had no need for graphical maps, but if eyes were going to travel down they might as well have

something to look at.

Brian scratched at his ridge, playing with the scar where once a flap had been. Grooves from his nails filled with soap, and his teeth gritted automatically. His neck extended, spine popping from being hunched over all evening and now finally allowed to straighten out.

He bounced his cock against his palm considering the possibilities, but he had a ways to go before such thoughts could be entertained. His ass itched in a burning way. Seventeen had probably torn his flesh digging in with coarse fingers seeking to imitate art; his own personal Goatsee picture burned onto his retina for late night replay.

Gingerly, he worked the soap down under his cock, past the perineum, and around to counteract the itchiness that had woken him up from orgasmic drugged sleep. Using his finger as a cleaning plunger, he worked his butthole open and corkscrewed his finger in to get all the nooks and crannies. Taking a pumice stone, he attacked his butt cheeks.

"Man, you really take showering seriously."

Brian levitated into the shower stream, dropping the pumice stone on his foot. "Fuck Jed. What the hell are you doing in here?"

Jed slid the bathroom door the rest of the way open, pushing the mirrored surface into the wall groove. "Can't hold it any longer."

"You've been in here forever." He moved his large form into the small space between shower and doorway, positioning himself by the toilet.

 Brian yanked the shower curtain around him, spraying water outside the shower confines. "Now? You have to go now? Couldn't you have waited a bit longer or knocked?" Brian's head peeped out from behind the curtain.

"You didn't hear me with all that water. You're such a prude. It's not like I'm going in the shower with you. I've seen it all anyway."

Jed turned sideways to face the toilet and yanked up the Hello Kitty apron he was wearing as his only clothing. From under Hello Kitty's smiling face, a warm jet stream of yellow liquid churned into the toilet.

"Jesus." Brian's head whipped behind the shower curtain.

 "I can hear you, and you shouldn't curse." Jed finished up and lowered Hello Kitty to graze the top of his thighs. His ass was completely exposed in the back under the apron strings.

"Then fucking don't burst into my bathroom."

 "Our bathroom and if you didn't spend hours scraping off your work I wouldn't have to." Jed looked at the plastic wrapped Brian.

"Why do you care anyway? I've seen you naked." Jed washed his hands and dried them slowly, making sure his fingernails were squeaky clean.

"But not in the bathroom and not when I'm showering. It's different." Brian kicked the faucet with his foot to shut off the water.

"Why?" Jed's six foot three inches was doing a good job of making the bathroom shrink precariously.

"Because it is." Brian's hand darted out trying to reach a towel.

"I hope you don't sound like such a baby when you're working. No wonder you need me."

"Get out of here."

"But you're done. I'll get you a clean towel."

"Out. Now. And don't you dare hand me a towel." Brian balled up his fist.

Jed rolled his eyes and shuffled out, sliding the door closed with a thud.

Brian stepped out of the shower, and yanked down a clean towel waiting on the shelf above the toilet. Jeez the man hotel rolled their towels and then had the audacity to act like Brian was weird one for wanting to hang a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the bathroom door.

By the time Brian stepped out of the bathroom with a towel cinched around his waist, Jed was back in the kitchen pretending to ignore him as he elegantly flipped pancakes back onto the griddle for the final browning touch.

Brian slunk into one of the two chairs pushed under their table. He noticed the textbooks he'd tossed down were now neatly piled with a note taped to them saying 'Please find me a proper home'. Jesus, Jed's a nutcase.

Brian realized the spatula had stopped hovering in mid-air and was now sliding pancakes onto plates already trimmed with sausage and eggs. Food shoveling stopped, but Jed still kept his back to him.

Fucking A. Who was being the baby now? Brian's stomach growled, demanding he cave in.

"Sorry I yelled at you, but you surprised me." Brian rolled his eyes at Jed's back.

Jed stayed facing the stove. "Putting a 'but' on the end of an apology nullifies it."

Brian's stomach erupted in a litany of growls. Goddamn it. "Sorry I'm a slob?"

Jed was silent, but delivered heavy plates to the table.

Brian eyed the food. "Am I allowed to eat your food, then?"

"Like I could stop you." Jed's chair creaked under a mass of bones and muscles as he sat down, shielding his eyes as Brian savagely undid the pristine arrangement of food items and began a conveyor belt of food to mouth.

"True."

 "Stop talking with your mouth open. It's grotesque." Jed cut his pancakes into bite-sized pieces and put easy to swallow amounts on his fork.

"Sorry."

 "You said that already," Jed swallowed each piece before spearing another.

 Brian dug his thighs into the edge of the chair. "Why do we always fight the morning after?"

"We aren't fighting."

"Good to know." Brian waited for Jed to look then rolled his eyes.

"Last night was cocky." Jed pushed a sausage around in circles.

Brian broke his hand to mouth highway system. "He tried something?"

"Hell no, not with me around. S'why I'm here. But he swaggered out of here like he had your goods and not that little thing hanging between his legs." Jed stood the sausage on its end then let it fall.

 "You weren't in the bedroom with us. You don't know what he was heaving," Brian hurried through his sentence so he could get more food in his mouth.

"Could tell. Besides you deserve better than that attitude."

"Let me get this straight, we're fighting because you're ticked off at him?" Brian finished his food and eyed the cooling nutrients still on Jed's plate. He tentatively tried forking one of Jed's pancakes. Jed hissed, but it didn't stop Brian from snagging it and swallowing it nearly whole.

"Pig."

 "You're the one to blame for making good food." Brian was angling his fork to steal more when the plate was shoved in his direction.

"Thanks."

"I just think you deserve better." Jed patted his mouth on a napkin.

"He better have paid up."

"We have the next year's book money no problem." Brian ate quickly enough that the food mixed in his mouth into a breakfast slurpy.

"Better be clean money."

"And you call me the prude. Want me to iron the bills?" Brian used his finger to lick up the last crumbs before pushing his plates back towards Jed.

"Wouldn't hurt you to bruise a finger and put those dishes in the sink you know." Jed looked askance at the plates.

"See this is what I mean. We're fighting. You know if I did that you'd yell at me for putting them in the wrong way. You're setting me up." Brian winked and stood up. "I need to get dressed."

"Don't expect me to strip your sheets and make your bed." Jed yelled after Brian's retreating back.