Series: Trenton Security Book 2
Author: J.M. Dabney
Publisher: Hostile Whispers Press
Release Date: May 8th, 2018
Genre: MM Interracial Bisexual Contemporary Romance
Cover Art by: Reese Dante
Insanity was in the eye of the beholder.
Harmon Little was a surveillance expert. He lived in the shadows, and he liked it there. There wasn’t a place he couldn’t get in and out of without detection. As usual with his mischievous nature, his current assignment went south, and he ran. He thought he was free and clear until he knocked someone over in a grocery store aisle.
Sanity wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Solomon “Solo” Poe was counting calories. Working out until he fell into bed hungry and exhausted. He was plain and pudgy, plus he couldn’t remember when he’d last gone on a date. He wanted more than the occasional, lights out, one-night stand. So, he was going to lose the weight and find himself a man. At least that was the plan, then a big man with a huge smile tried to kill him in a store aisle. There was one thing he was sure of, Harmon was his.
Inappropriate laughter threatened to escape, and he prepared to get fired. First, the unexpected kidnapping of a stranger. He still didn’t know how the hell they were able to get his van on the roof, but they succeeded and he’d spent a fortune for the crane—again. He’d returned to the grocery store several times. Yet he hadn’t spotted the bow tie wearing cutie. Getting with Poe was a lost cause, but that didn’t help his disappointment. He decided on a distraction. The rest of the team didn’t fall for his pranks. Raul and Pure were easy marks.
He’d spent all day attempting to lure the two men to the lower level of Trenton Security where they had the gun range and weapons lockers and cages. He didn’t feel guilty about it either. Raul had focused his attention on Pure’s ass. A quick shove from behind and he had both men locked up.
He raised his arm and wiggled his fingers at the two pissed off men. In his opinion, if they couldn’t get their shit together they deserved it. They needed a bit of encouragement and he thought he was just the man to do that.
“Little, I’m tired of your shit, man.”
As Raul’s palm connected with the gate, the metal rattled. Pure stared down the sniper scope of a rifle and he swore the man’s trigger finger twitched.
“It’s for your own good,” he announced. “Now, I brought some educational tools along to help.” He bent at the waist and dug the two anatomically correct puppets from his small gym bag. He hugged them both to his chest as he removed condoms and single-use lube from the bag, and then shoved the items through the cage.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Raul threw himself against the door.
Did Raul think that was going to work?
“What the hell is going on?” Linus’s voice boomed off the walls of the basement.
He struggled to get the puppets onto his hands and as his fingers worked the arms, he waved them in Linus’s face. “Puppet show,” he said.
Linus crossed his arms over his broad chest and rested back against the cage. “What happened last time you locked them up, Little?”
“Stitches. But scars heighten my bad boy exterior. It’s sexy.”
“And you think this time is going to end any different?”
“No, but it’s puppets, man.” He heard the hysterical glee in his voice.
“I think they get the idea of where to insert Tab A into Slot B.”
“You’re just going to fucking stand there?” Raul demanded. “I thought we agreed you’d keep his crazy ass away from me.”
Raul had worked with them for years, but even being a newbie to the full-time team, the man should know better than to think he’d escape. He jerked his gaze to Linus to see if his boss was going to ruin his fun. Linus’ smirk told him he wasn’t going to help Little’s victims. He mentally fist pumped at the nod that told him to proceed.
“You wearing your vest, Little?”
“Won’t matter much with a head shot.” Pure punctuated his statement with the slow slide of the bolt as the man loaded the rifle.
“You’re so violent, Pure, sexual frustration does that to a person. Now, this is mini-Raul.” He held his puppet encased right hand. “And this cutie is mini-Pure.”
“Just wait until I get out of this fucking cage. You’re fucking dead.”
“Now, now, Raul,” he chided.
“Just let him do this, I’m interested to see what Little has to say. I got a pre-teen to have the sex talk with. You mind if I borrow those?”
“All yours, I got female ones too. They only sold them as a hetero set.”
“Let’s begin with foreplay, kissing is important.” He made smooching sounds as he pressed the puppet’s faces together. “Oh, Raul…”
Pain shot through his ears at the reverberation as a single shot echoed in deafening decibels. “Fake Jesus, Pure, what the fuck?” He pushed the puppets to his ears as he bent at the waist.
“Pure, I don’t care if you shoot Little, but, fuck, boy, that was too close,” Linus yelled. “I’m gonna put you over my fucking knee.”
“You touch me and I won’t give you a warning shot,” Pure growled.
He heard the ejection of one bullet casing as Pure loaded the second.
“I won’t kill you, Little, but, you better open—”
“I was just trying to help, no need to be mean. Boss, you want to catch one?”
“Man, I need one.”
He headed for the door with Linus beside him.
“What about us?” Raul asked.
“We’ll let you out when Pure calms down.”
“Try to be helpful, dude, and what the fuck do you get in return?”
“Ungrateful fuckers. We headed to Mama’s place?”
“Just wait until I get out of here. I’ll kill both y’all’s fucking asses. Linus, Little!” Raul cursed and banged against the cage behind them.
As he entered the elevator, he spun and had the puppets wave bye to the two pissed off men. Both their faces were red and then they turned on each other.
“You know, they gonna take your ass out, right?”
“It will be worth it. And I went through the trouble of special ordering these.” He held up his hands. “And I get no thanks for it. Shameful, man.”
“You do know you’re on Cheating Spouse duty?”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”
ABOUT J.M. DABNEY
J.M. Dabney is a multi-genre author who writes mainly LGBT romance and fiction. She lives with a constant diverse cast of characters in her head. No matter their size, shape, race, etc. she lives for one purpose alone, and that’s to make sure she does them justice and give them the happily ever after they deserve. J.M. is dysfunction at its finest and she makes sure her characters are a beautiful kaleidoscope of crazy. There is nothing more she wants from telling her stories than to show that no matter the package the characters come in or the damage their pasts have done, that love is love. That normal is never normal and sometimes the so-called broken can still be amazing.
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