IN FROM THE COLD is a Finalist

I'm walking in sunshine today! Word arrived last night that IN FROM THE COLD, a gay erotic contemporary, is a finalist in the 7th Annual Passionate Plume Novella Contest. The contest is sponsored by Passionate Ink, a Romance Writers of America online chapter for erotic romance. That means my story is in the top five finishers. Winners will be announced at the RWA National Conference this summer in Anaheim, California.

I rarely enter contests anymore, so this was a fun surprise. I think the last time I entered one was four years ago, when TIE 'EM UP, HOLD 'EM DOWN, my first gay romance, was a finalist there.

THE STORY

East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet...

Jon and Wendell were fourteen when they first experimented with each other and discovered they were gay. Lovers and in love, they drifted apart after graduation when Jon left to follow his dream to rock ’n’ roll stardom. A heartbroken Wendell recovered by earning an animal husbandry degree at a California university. He returned to the small Oregon town where they’d grown up to raise sheep with his father.

Ten years later, Wendell’s contentment is shattered when Jon and his band arrive to play for their high school reunion. Love surprises both men by immediately flaring into liquid heat. Jon begs Wendell to give up his life in Oregon and live with him in New York City. Wendell refuses, however, asking Jon to move in with him instead. But Jon refuses to abandon his career and returns to Manhattan.

Will Wendell and Jon remain star-crossed lovers, or will they find a way to bridge the distance and discover the true meaning of “home”?

EXCERPT

...Wendell froze. He forgot to breathe. Warm lips touched the hollow just beneath his right ear and a tongue slowly tasted, savoring him. He closed his eyes as the tonguing changed to a wet mouth trailing kisses with agonizing slowness down his neck to where his sleep top began. Fingers slid beneath the neck and slid across his bare skin, following its line.

“I wore your gift tonight,” Jon said in a voice as rough as gravel.

Mesmerized by the touch of Jon’s mouth and hands, all Wendell could get out was, “I noticed.” When a lack of oxygen threatened to cause a blackout, he drew in a long breath through his nose. Not my soap, he thought. Not my shampoo. Only Jon’s scent. His soap, his shampoo, his arms strong and familiar around me.

His lips and tongue that I have missed so very much.

He crossed his arms over Jon’s and became aware of the rock-hard cock pressing against his buttocks and his dick growing long and big in response. That, too, was familiar. He didn’t want to move, to stop the mouth at his neck or destroy the pleasures rumbling inside him. He just wanted to stand there and feel Jon in the stillness, with the blazing fire shooting flickering shadows around them, and convince himself Jon was real and this wasn’t a dream.

Jon released his waist and turned Wendell to face him as his lips brushed over the corners of his closed eyes and his tongue lapped at the tip of his nose before zeroing in to devour Wendell’s mouth. As the kiss deepened and their tongues intertwined in an imitation of penetrating sex, Wendell wrapped his arms around Jon and ran his hands up and down the broad back. Jon thrust his pelvis against Wendell’s until they were so tight together he couldn’t tell Jon’s dick from his. It didn’t matter. Melding into him, becoming one with him was all that mattered as erotic sparks shot through him and lust caused his body to quiver.

Someone groaned, and Wendell realized it came from his throat.

Jon must’ve taken that as a signal to slip his hand beneath the band of Wendell’s sleep pants because he was there, and his hard knuckles stroked the tender flesh above Wendell’s bush.

“Lower. Go lower,” Wendell begged, hungry for and helpless against the sensual onslaught. He rocked his hips from side to side to increase the friction as the knuckles continued to rub.

Jon was trembling now. He slid Wendell’s sleep pants down and took his cock in hand.

“Not here,” Wendell warned, his voice thick and hoarse with what testosterone was doing to his vocal chords. “I’m on the verge.”

“Yes, here,” Jon insisted as he pulled down his own pants and wrapped Wendell’s hand around his tight erection. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long I’m not going to let you go. Besides, we have all night.”

Pleasure splintered Wendell, and he exhaled with a groan as he enjoyed those all too brief seconds when everything centered in his groin and drowned his entire body in feeling.

“Oh, God, Wendell. Wendell.” Jon moaned as he came, too.

Later, they wandered to bed, stripped, crawled under the covers and died to the world.

In the deepest part of the night, Wendell roused to the weight of someone, something on his butt, something hard and velvety gliding, sliding in and out of his crack. Something nipped at his shoulder. “Is that you, Jon?”

“Who else, lover?”

He started to turn, but hands captured his shoulders and kept him in place as Jon’s knees forced his thighs apart. Hands rubbed his back as Jon licked his skin, awakening nerve endings running the length of his body. Thinking he should only feel this in his groin, the sensations caused every nerve to spring to life. Awash in feeling, he decided to relax and enjoy it, not to miss even one little flicker of arousal...

If you have it, maybe you'd enjoy reading it again. If not, it's available as a download
http://www.amberallure.com/InFromCold.html

Carolina Valdez
http://www.carolinavaldez.com.html
http://www.twitter.com/carolina_valdez