Livin’ on a Prayer
Phaze Rocks: Book #2 in the
Slippery When Wet Series
By Jude Mason
ISBN: 978-1-59426-779-6
Publisher: Phaze
Blurb:
Logan White is released from prison after serving eight years on Corcoran prison for his part in a B &E where a man was killed. Enter Reverend Shane Grayson, a gay man of the cloth who helps find Logan a job, but that turns into a horror story. Can the two lovers find a way to be together or will the underbelly of society win this battle?
Chapter One
The soft leather sports bag lay like a blanket across his shoulder; the heavy barred doors in front of him looked like they'd never open. Logan White stood patiently waiting. He'd learned patience if nothing else in the last eight years. Eight long years, he thought, and shuffled his feet.
Something clanged behind him but he ignored it, unwilling to let anything deter him from his release, his first steps into freedom. Footsteps approached and the bitter smell of tobacco assailed his nostrils. A hack, a guard, it had to be.
"Getting out, eh White," a deep gruff voice asked.
"Yes, boss," Logan responded quickly, carefully. He couldn't take the chance of something getting in the way of his freedom. Not when it was this close. Close enough to taste. Close enough to give him a hard-on.
"Got yer paperwork, Warden spoke to you already?"
"Yes, boss. Everything's done. I'm just waiting for the gate to open so I can get outta here." He straightened his back, ready for whatever happened. Adrenaline coursed through him. What the fuck did this hack want?
"Am I gonna see your ugly mug again?"
A hand slid down his back and came to rest on his left butt cheek. He didn't move, didn't let on that he wanted to bash the guy’s head in. "No, boss. I've done my time. And no offense, but the accommodations aren't what I'd call great."
The hand left him, and a voice whispered, "You'll be back. Stats say so." The man was so close, he felt the breath against his neck.
Logan's stomach muscles tightened. "Not me, boss. I'm outta here for good."
"We'll see. Keep your nose clean and steer clear of trouble."
"Yes, boss. That's my plan."
The gate opened, slowly, the rusted metal screaming as it slid to the side. It stopped, a great clang indicating it was open as far as it was going.
Afternoon sunlight streamed in, washing over Logan's work boots and up the legs of his worn blue jeans. When it touched the bottom of his t-shirt, he strode through the tunnel leading to the outside world.
The gate screeched shut behind him, clanging loudly when metal struck metal. He was out. The Hell hole of COR and its atrocities were behind him.
By the time he climbed onto the Greyhound heading north, he was humming.
* * * *
Lurching forward, he scrambled to stay on the seat. His eyes sprang open. The bus came to a halt. It was dark and he had no idea where he was. For an instant, he thought he'd been tossed out of his bunk, another search for drugs that he never had.
Then it came back to him. He was free. He didn't have to guard every word or keep his back to the wall. He could eat what he wanted—go where he wanted.
He yawned and stretched. Sliding out of the seat, he reached up and grabbed his bag from the overhead. The bus was empty when he lumbered down the steps and hit the pavement. Lights from the small town streetlight glared. The smell of coffee and pastries drew his attention to the depot's coffee shop. Shrugging, he turned away and headed for the street.
An hour later, he'd found a room in something that resembled a motel. Brick, worn by years or decades of harsh abuse rose four stories off the sidewalk. Several windows on the ground floor were cracked or completely gone and mounds of trash hid any shrubs or plants in the small garden patch to the side. Cheap, filthy, smelling of sour cabbage and refuse, it would do until he could afford better.
Sprawled across the thin mattress and threadbare spread, he emptied his wallet. Twenty bucks a night didn't leave much. He needed to find work and soon.
It was late and the excitement of freedom had worn off. He stuffed the few bills he had remaining back into his wallet and climbed to his feet. The place was small, little more than a single room with a bed, a hot plate on the old lopsided dresser and a chair. The bathroom stank, obviously hadn't been cleaned in some time and consisted of a toilet, sink and a shower. But, it was twice the size of what he'd been used to for the last few years.
Logan went to the window and pushed the ratty, once white curtain to the side. Peering out, he smiled at the scene below. The street was almost deserted, except for the occasional car speeding by and the two whores on the corner.
"Yeah, just like home," he mumbled and let the curtain fall back into place. He turned away and pulled off his t-shirt. Tossing it onto the bed, he sat on the rickety wooden chair and heeled off his boots. A sweaty sock went into each, and then he got to his feet and unfastened his jeans. With them hanging loose, he went into the bathroom and pulled the chain dangling from the single light bulb. Glaring white light made him blink. Dingy grey tile surrounded the tub and most of the tiny room, the rest was painted piss yellow. Stains around the toilet and over the sink made his stomach churn, yet it was no worse than he was used to. He reached past the tattered, green plastic curtain and started the water in the shower.
Satisfied that the water was heating up, he faced the cracked mirror above the sink. He ran his fingers over stubble on his cheeks and chin and wondered how he was going to get a job looking like a crazed derelict. His dark hair was too short, prison cut, and his eyes had a haunted look that he hoped would fade. His nose was bent, thanks to a fight he'd had several months ago, and a small scar on the left side of his chin reminded him of where a ring had cut his face when he'd poked his nose in where it wasn't wanted. A con thought he was paying too much attention to his 'bitch'. Life on the inside could be deadly if you didn't play the game right.
He stripped out of his jeans and shorts, before stepping into the shower.
At a couple of inches over six feet tall, it was a nice surprise when the water hit him full in the face before it trickled down his chest. Alone for the first time in years, he let his guard down and simply allowed the pleasure to build. He ran his hands over his chest, the thick matting of dark hair plastered flat. His nipples rose like tiny beacons of sensation and he brushed his palms over them until he had to bite his lip to keep from groaning aloud. His cock thickened and rose, the shaft pulsing as it filled with blood.
"Oh yeah," he sighed and ran a hand over the taut muscles of his belly. A six-pack rippled against his palm and he silently thanked the free hours he'd spent lifting weights. The back of his hand brushed the mass of pubic hair surrounding his cock, then his fingers found the shaft. Grasped and squeezed, his prick bounced higher. The head tapped his belly and he shuddered.
With his free hand, he grabbed the small bar of soap from the dish. He rubbed it across his chest and stomach, building a rich fragrant lather before sliding his hand down over his crotch. Slick and wet, his hand slid over his erection.
Leaning against the tile, he spread his legs and allowed his hands free reign. With no one to interrupt or distract him, he simply basked in the growing bliss. His hips churned and his ass clenched.
"Fuck yeah."
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~ * ~
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Sultry Summer Series Contest
Authors Jude Mason and Jenna Byrnes are hot! They’d like to heat you up, too, so they’re having a Sultry Summer Series Contest! Two winners will receive their choices of a series each from Jude and Jenna’s backlist:
Kindred Spirits (m/m, paranormal, 3 ebooks)
Untamed Hearts (m/m and m/f/m ménage, shifters, 4 ebooks)
Slippery When Wet (m/m, 4 ebooks)
Answer the following questions and email your answers to:
1) What’s the name of the inn in the Kindred Spirits series?
2) Name the four animals represented by shifters in the Untamed Hearts series.
3) In what prison were the four main characters in the Slippery When Wet series incarcerated?
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