Mannies Incorporated was the first book of the series Mannies Incorporated and I’ve written one every year for release in December ever since. This year is no exception – look for Composing a Family, coming out the week of December18! In the meantime, here’s an excerpt from the original Mannies Incorporated!
Slayde’s got the best job on earth: he’s a nanny to Army nurse and widow Mindy’s three kids. He’s been with the family since the oldest was born and is Uncle Slayde to all three children. When Mindy’s deployed, things aren’t easy, but he manages just fine. At least he does until Mindy’s big brother Drake shows up unexpectedly, announcing he’s there to help while Mindy is gone.
Drake is almost a stranger to the kids, hot as hell, especially in his motorcycling leathers, and straighter than straight. On top of that, Drake’s not used to dealing with kids, or with things like gluten free, recycling and not eating fast food and soon has Slayde’s tight routine in shambles.
Slayde thinks Drake is far more of a hindrance than a help, at least at the start, but he tries to get along for Mindy’s sake and eventually, having Drake around is easier than not. But what’s he supposed to do when the straight, sexy leather wearing ex-cop makes a pass at him one night? Maybe there’s more to Drake than Slayde assumed.
“That looks good.” He reached over and forked a piece of meat from Slayde’s box.
“It is. Crispy. Spicy.”
“It’s good.” He stole another piece.
“It’s mine.” Slayde winked, but didn’t pull the container away.
“You won’t share?” He snagged two more pieces. “I’ll share mine.”
“Is yours good?” Slayde stole a bite.
“You tell me.” He fed Slayde the next one.
Slayde’s eyes went wide, cheeks going pink. “It’s tart.” Oh fuck, look at that.
“It is.” His voice had gone all husky.
“I. You’re not drunk, are you?”
“What?” He sat back and cleared his throat. Jesus, Slayde made him forget his own fucking name.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.”
He blinked at Slayde. Taking advantage of him? “I’m not drunk.”
“Okay. Can I have another bite?”
He hadn’t even had anything to drink. At all. He forked a piece of his orange chicken, or whatever it was, and held the fork up to Slayde’s full, red lips. Were guys allowed to have lips that soft looking?
Slayde opened up, tugged the bite off the fork. Fuck.
Drake found himself leaning slowly closer. Slayde’s eyes met his, straight-forward, sure, not letting him hide from this. Jesus fuck. They hadn’t even talked about last time yet. But it had happened, so Slayde already knew he was gay. So he just kept moving in, letting those lips draw his own like the proverbial bees to honey.
They were sweet from the food, citrusy, and just a little spicy. Need slammed through him and it took everything he had not to push Slayde back into the couch and hump like he was starving for it.
“Fuck, you taste good.” One of those hurt hands landed on his thigh.
The words made him groan. He was used to wham bam, no kissing, no talking, just getting off encounters. Slayde didn’t seem in a hurry at all. Drake licked at Slayde’s lips and they opened for his tongue to slip inside.
Oh, fuck. He explored, tongue sliding on Slayde’s teeth, tickling the roof of the man’s mouth. He moaned this time, the experience unfuckingbelievable. He hadn’t ever kissed a man like this, not long and lazy, like he wasn’t in a hurry.
His hand came up, cupping Slayde’s cheek, fingertips brushing underneath Slayde’s eye, and Slayde leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Goddamn.
Jesus fuck, some part of him was sure he’d come, just from this. One kiss became another and another, the touches making him fucking breathless.
About Sean Michael:
Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hourshiding out in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.
Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.
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