Copperhead Road (Southern Beaus Book 3)
by T. D. McKinney & Terry Wylis
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-485-3 (Electronic)
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-989-7 (Paperback anthology with Book 4, Tensaw Blues)
Everyone in Bay Mignon knows the Truitts are white-trash bad news, generations of moon-shiners and drug runners, and none more so than handsome Bolt Truitt. Rumor insists some of the fifteen years he’s been away were spent in prison. Cameron Fontaine knows that’s true. But he also knows the town doesn’t know the real Bolt.
Cameron does. He’s loved Bolt since they were both kids, just discovering life and each other. Even though fate ripped them apart, Cameron never stopped believing in Bolt, never stopped loving him. And his heart swears Bolt’s different, the drug dealing left in the past. No matter his other sins, Bolt has never lied to Cameron.
Until now. Evidence, words from Bolt’s own lips, shatter Cameron’s trust and his heart. Still, a lifetime of love, even separated for so long, can’t just be set aside. Though he can’t trust Bolt any more, Cameron will risk everything to see his lover safe…even his life…
Genres: Gay / Contemporary / Action / Adventure / Series
Heat Level: 2
Length: Novella (26k words)
REVIEWS: (Expanded reviews available on the sales page)
“5 Stars!…Excellent…. this story is a great ride….This is a great tale of romance and love. I highly recommend it.”
–Matthew, Rainbow Reviews
“4 Nymphs!…A whirlwind of action set in sultry Southern Alabama. …Kudos to the authors for a great, exciting, and sexy read.”
–Satyr Vael, Literary Nymphs Reviews
“4.5 Stars!…Another well-written, well-paced story from the writing partnership of T.D. McKinney and Terry Wylis… If you’re looking for a story that’s exciting, with engaging characters, a terrific plot and lots of atmosphere because of the location, I highly recommend Copperhead Road, which I couldn’t put down.”
–Wave, Reviews By JesseWave
“4 Angels!…T. D. McKinney and Terry Wylis give us a tale of love and redemption set in the Gulf Coast region of Mobile, Alabama. This story is well written and will capture the reader’s interest with both emotion and action. … While the twist at the end is not unexpected, it is definitely welcome, because we all love a happy ending.”
–Whitney, Fallen Angel Reviews
“Cameron! Slow down. I want…” The button on the jeans popped open and Cameron ran his fingertips under the waistband of Bolt’s underwear. Tender skin, so soft and warm, hid there. The action freed another of those wonderful little moans from Bolt. “Oh, Christ, forget it. I just want you.”
Good. Because now that he had those tight jeans open, Cameron had no intention of slowing down. The old crystal doorknob turned under his hand and he steered Bolt past that portal. He’d always wanted Bolt in his bedroom, in his bed. The one place they’d never been together. The idea of facing Cameron’s father if caught had killed even the strongest adolescent hormone overload.
Gleaming oak scuffed under Cameron’s boots as he pressed Bolt toward the bed, finally pushing him down onto the white-on-white quilt. He stared, transfixed by raven hair spread across the old comforter, by long limbs sprawled in disarray, by that delicate patch of inky hair peeping from Bolt’s open jeans. “Dear God, you’re gorgeous.”
“I ain’t complaining about the view from here either.” Amusement sparkled up from silvery eyes, a snowy smile, and the diamond studs set at lip and ears. “Damn, you got tall.” Desire flushed coppery skin and widened jet pupils.
“So’d you.” Cameron wanted to explore every inch of that length, too. In a bit. As soon as he quenched the nuclear furnace raging through his veins. He knelt between Bolt’s spread legs and ran his hands down the length of that smooth chest and firm abdomen. Bolt’s head tipped back, long column of his throat begging for Cameron’s attention. He explored there for a moment before working his way to that broad chest and down. His lover’s river-kissed, salt-rich skin tasted of all the things Cameron craved.
Bolt yelped and arched his back when Cameron bit, gentle and careful, just above the patch of darkness peeping from the waistband of white briefs. He licked the spot before kneeling back and grinning at his startled lover. “I’m not sixteen anymore. I learned a few things along the way.”
Bolt shivered. “I noticed.”
Cameron chuckled and reached to pull off first one of Bolt’s still very damp boots, then the other. Their thump as they hit the floor pleased him more than he thought so simple a sound could. The wet socks followed, giving Cameron a moment to admire the elegant, narrow feet. “Still ticklish?”
Trepidation widened Bolt’s eyes further. “Cameron…”
“Don’t worry. I never did torment you that way, did I? I know you can’t stand to have anyone mess with the bottoms of your feet.” Cameron massaged a trim ankle, Bolt’s foot jerking when he pressed a kiss to a high-arched instep. “Yep, still ticklish.” He grinned before releasing that pretty ankle and moving back to the waistband of Bolt’s jeans.
Sharp tugs freed long limbs from damp denim, admiration for the glory of slim thighs setting new heat low in Cameron’s belly. He’d take the time to savor those. Later. Right now, hard desire tenting the white cotton of Bolt’s briefs claimed all his attention.
“I see some other things haven’t changed either.” He pulled the underwear down and dropped them on the jeans. He fisted rigid want and bit that spot just a few inches above it again. “Do I still get you harder than anyone you can think of?”
Long fingers threaded through Cameron’s hair, pressing him to river-scented skin. “God, yeah!” Bolt half sat up, his fingers tightening, urging Cameron away from that glory to Bolt’s lips. Cameron continued to play with the granite length in his hand as he let Bolt ravage his mouth, his lover’s kisses hot and frantic. Tongues dueled, dancing with abandon against each other as Bolt’s body arched and relaxed only to arch again. A sharp cry broke the kiss as Cameron pressed his thumb across his lover’s tip, slickness there sweet as new cane syrup to his senses.
Cameron scrambled in the bedside table for a moment, finding the tube he needed to spread a new sort of slick, then easing a finger into his lover just to watch Bolt’s head tip back and his mouth go slack. Cameron fought his own belt and zipper as he pleasured Bolt, adoring the way the other man fisted the quilt tight, hips working to match the rhythm. Cameron had to finally release Bolt long enough to push his own pants and underwear down, growling at the delay.
Cameron bent one of Bolt’s long legs to his chest, ankle warm on Cameron’s shoulder so he could reach what he wanted so badly. When he pushed inside, tight heat welcomed him and he paused, gasping, just savoring that delicious warmth embracing him.
Bolt’s lungs bellowed, one hand gripping Cameron’s upper arm, the other fisted in the quilt. Sweet profanity fell from his beautifully shaped mouth, offering encouragement and gratitude for something that felt so damned good. The sound of it loosened the tiny hold Cameron maintained on passion. Desire demanded he do all he could to turn Bolt’s words to primal sounds of ecstasy, to push them both beyond the ability to speak.