Hey hey, we’ve made it to Hump Day! Congrats all around! To celebrate, we’ve got a steamy excerpt from Sidney Bell‘s Bad Judgment. Bell’s debut M/M romantic suspense stars bodyguard Brody Smith and executive assistant-with-a-secret Embry Ford. Let’s take a peek as they get up close and personal …
“I hate to skate out on the dishes,” Brogan said, putting his fork down and getting up. “But I need to leave. Pretty much now. Because I really want to fuck you, and if I stay, I think you might cave and let me. You’ve had a crappy day, and maybe you’re not thinking straight, and the only thing keeping me from putting my hands on you is the thought that you might regret it, so I’m going to go before we make a bad decision.”
Embry swallowed, apparently following Brogan’s run-on sentence just fine. He got up and brushed past Brogan to unlock the front door, then paused there, hand on the knob. After an eternity, he said, “Okay.”
Brogan collected his jacket, but Embry didn’t open the door and Brogan stopped beside him, close enough that he could stroke a thumb very gently beneath his swollen, bruised eye.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Brogan whispered.
“I brought it on myself,” Embry said. Brogan’s face must’ve revealed his anger at that, because Embry hurried to add, “Not that way. I mean that I know what he is and I’m still here. That’s at least a little bit my fault.”
“There are things that abusers do that erode a victim’s confidence,” Brogan said. “They know how to isolate you from friends and family and beat down your spirit well before they lay a finger on you, so that by the time they hit you, they’ve already limited your ability to fight back or run. They do it on purpose.”
Embry laughed under his breath, a mixture of amusement and misery. “I’m not a victim of domestic violence, Brogan.”
“Yeah, Embry, you are. He fractured one of the bones in your face. You think because you’re a guy that means it doesn’t count?”
“I think it doesn’t count because…” Embry abruptly seemed to find the television—playing cartoons now—captivating.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not okay. There are no circumstances that justify it.” Brogan struggled to remember why there was probably a better time for this conversation. But at the same time, he couldn’t leave it like this, not when Embry had to know how dumb it was for him to blame himself. “You’re so… Christ, Embry, he should be grateful for every opportunity to touch you that he gets. He should be on his fucking knees he’s so grateful that a piece of shit like him is even allowed to put his hands on someone as lovely and smart and complicated and fascinating—”
“Don’t say things like that,” Embry whispered, sounding distressed. “You can’t like me.”
“Not really up to you.”
“I’ve told you and told you. You’re going to get hurt.”
“Whether I do or not is my business, don’t you think?” And Brogan couldn’t believe he was arguing this, because he was supposed to be going.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you making this so hard?”
Embry shoved him and Brogan’s back hit the wall with a thud.
“Ow,” Brogan said, even though it hadn’t hurt, and there wasn’t anything to complain about with Embry pressed against him, his slim body thrumming with energy, his expression dark and furious and sharp.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” Embry snarled. “You think I didn’t want to hit back? You think I don’t know that he’s a bastard? But I—I was handling it, I was getting it done until you showed up, and you say these things, these wonderful…and you say them like they cost nothing.”
Brogan started to reply, but Embry kept going. “Do you think I’d still be here if it was that easy? If I wouldn’t lose everything by leaving? Fuck.” He backed up a step, and dragged a hand over his mouth. Brogan felt the loss of contact like an arrow through his ribs. “Fuck you, Brogan. Fuck you for making this so hard.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Tell me what you need—
It was either the wrong thing to say or the right thing—it depended on the point of view, because he only got a second to meet Embry’s eyes, narrow and searing, before that pretty mouth crashed against his own.
Brogan’s brain could barely keep his heart beating at the jolt of sensation, let alone help him figure out what to do next, so he stood there stupidly while Embry kissed the everliving fuck out of him. Brogan got lost in the feel of the straining body against his, in the strength of the fists crumpling his shirt, in the hot, wet mouth parting beneath his own. Embry was small next to him, slim and wiry, but there was nothing delicate about his hard shoulders or lean belly.
Brogan slid his hands under Embry’s shirt and encountered warm skin, ropy muscle, and twin ladders of rib that Brogan’s fingers could climb before he found Embry’s flat nipples with his thumbs. And all the while he kissed Embry back, fascinated by the sensation of those soft lips yielding, warm and damp and willing. Embry whimpered, and Brogan struggled for control briefly before giving up.
As if he’d ever had any defenses against Embry.
He dropped his hands and finally cupped that outrageously perfect ass, finally felt firm, round flesh under his fingers. He tugged them together and Embry was hard, too, thank God. Brogan spun them around so Embry’s back was to the wall, forcing him back a little harder than he’d meant to, but Embry only gasped into his mouth and held on tighter. The support of the wall gave Brogan the leverage to ease his knee between Embry’s thighs and wedge their hips together. He shut his eyes and let his fingers creep beneath the waistband of Embry’s jeans, the denim rough, the skin there faintly sweaty.
Embry’s breath sped against his throat, and he dropped his head to rest on Embry’s shoulder before rolling his hips. Embry shuddered against him, clinging like a limpet, echoing the motion back to him so that the friction built.
Then they were both moving, rubbing and working against each other. The friction was too much, almost painful, zippers and boxers getting in the way, but Brogan didn’t want to stop, not with Embry arched in his arms, lean and limber and eager, so he used his grip on Embry’s ass to tilt him just as he liked instead.
Embry moaned, and Brogan decided he would do whatever it took to make Embry sound like that again. He lifted his head, bringing their mouths back together before dragging his lips along that long neck, smelling soap and Embry, masculine and clean and flawless. The rhythm of his body got rougher as he realized that at this rate, he’d go mad before he got off, because as much as he loved the idea of rocking both of them to orgasm right here like this, it wasn’t enough. He craved Embry’s skin, needed to touch and taste and memorize.
He gave Embry a last long, sloppy kiss, teeth bumping, before dropping to his knees. He yanked Embry’s jeans open and shoved everything down around strong, lean thighs, setting Embry’s cock free, long and hard and already dripping, surrounded by a neatly-trimmed thatch of black curls. Brogan’s fingers shook as he reached up to stroke the shaft, the blood-hot skin silky soft, loose and slippery in his grasp, and he couldn’t wait.
He’d never wanted to suck someone so much in his life. He didn’t care about Henniton or his job or any of the other reasons he had to stop. He only wanted to make Embry gasp and beg, wanted to wreck him with pleasure until Embry stopped thinking of anything but Brogan against him, above him, inside him.
He took the head in his mouth, working his tongue against the slit, and Embry thrust helplessly against him, making Brogan choke and pull back. Brogan trapped Embry against the wall with a forearm low against his belly before leaning sideways to bite at a round hipbone in punishment.
Embry’s whole body jerked and he moaned, “Sorry. Sorry. Oh, God, don’t stop, I’m sorry.”
The worry in Embry’s voice made him grin, and he returned to Embry’s cock, nuzzling the vein running along the bottom, learning Embry’s scent and taste, only slightly musky beneath the aroma of soap, and pleasantly salty, his pre-come almost flavorless. Brogan closed his eyes and got to work, bobbing his head so that Embry’s cock moved thick and heavy on Brogan’s tongue, nudging the back of his throat over and over, setting up a satisfying ache, pulling away just enough to breathe. He didn’t care about air—he had far more important things to concentrate on.
Bad Judgment will be available digitally on September 19. Copies start at $3.99 and you can grab yours here: Amazon | BN.com | Kobo | iTunes | GooglePlay. And if you’re hankering for another Hump Day excerpt (we won’t tell) we’ve got ya covered.