A Little Bit Country excerpt

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A Little Bit Country, A Novel

Available at MLR Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and more

Blurb:

Ash Ivers says and does what he wants, and with being the lead singer of the world famous rock band, From Ashes, he gets away with both. Three years ago, his mouth got the better of him, and he started a media feud with county music star, Jackson Abrams. When they’re both booked to play a charity concert, he sees his chance to finally confront Jackson in person. Though, he’s uncertain if his anger will hold against his attraction to the singing cowboy.

 

Jackson Abrams is the darling of country music. He’s polite, charming, handsome…and he has a secret that he fears could jeopardize his career. When it comes to the cocky rock star, Ash Ivers, he’s infuriated and intrigued by him. He wants their feuding to stop, but he also doesn’t want to lose the attention it gives him from Ash.

 

As Ash and Jackson meet, the heat of anger turns to passion. But when Jackson’s world starts crumbling around him, will their differences make them stronger, or drive them apart?

Excerpt:

Ash placed his hand on Jackson’s bicep. “I’m sorry for saying I didn’t think you’d care about this charity. I guess I was passing judgments, too, and it was crap of me to do that.”

 

Jackson lowered his gaze. He slowly lifted his other hand and rested it over Ash’s on his arm. “We’ve both done that too much.”

 

Ash looked at Jackson’s hand over his. His heartbeat hit a frantic pace.

 

Jackson glanced up, catching Ash’s gaze. “Plus, as a gay man myself, it makes it extra special for me. But like you said, it’s important for all people to know and understand about it.”

 

No other words came to Ash. Jackson…did he really say that? Ash’s mind spun with him desperately trying to catch hold of some comprehension. Jackson just confided in him that he was gay. And even if he doubted Jackson’s words, he couldn’t doubt the way Jackson was looking at him, or the softness in his touch.

 

Still unable to find words, his mind still floating, Ash tipped his head slightly toward him, watching to see what Jackson’s reaction would be. Jackson’s eyes half closed, and he moved his hand to cup the back of Ash’s neck. It was the only sign Ash needed. He closed the distance between them, his arms going around Jackson as he brought their lips together.

 

A hushed groan rumbled in Jackson’s throat. He started to part his lips, and Ash slipped the tip of his tongue through them. Jackson opened wider, accepting Ash’s tongue into his mouth. Ash took control of the kiss, rubbing his tongue across Jackson’s, sucking it into his mouth.

 

The kiss came to a slow end. Ash kept his eyes closed for a long moment before opening them, and saw Jackson doing the same, like he was also savoring the kiss.

 

Jackson let out a single, short laugh that held more confusion than humor. “What’s happening here?”

 

“I don’t know, but I’m running with it.” Ash took Jackson’s face in both hands, pressing their lips together in a more forceful kiss.

 

He turned Jackson toward the table and pushed him back to sit on the edge. Jackson spread his legs wide for Ash to stand between them. Ash reached for the buttons on Jackson’s shirt, working with deft skill in opening them, his lips never breaking from Jackson’s. The last button undone, he flung Jackson’s shirt open and drew the kiss to an end so he could see the body he’d been dying to get a look at.

 

Jackson’s pectorals were thick with muscle, his abdomen cut in deep grooves. But what surprised Ash was the tattoo on Jackson’s left pec. He hadn’t expected him to be inked. The image looked as if Jackson’s skin had been ripped open, but wasn’t bloody or gory. Rather, it made it appear that beneath Jackson’s skin was an American flag, and in front of his “skin” was the profiled head of a bald eagle.

 

Ash ran his hand over the tattoo. “That’s cool.”

 

“Thanks.” Jackson slipped his fingers under Ash’s shirt, edging it up. “I know you’ve got more than what’s on your arms. I’ve seen pictures of you with your shirt off a lot.”

 

Ash grinned and stood straight to pull his shirt off. “You’ve seen pics of me with it off, or you’ve looked for shots of me with it off?”

 

“Considering the position we’re in right now, I guess I can admit it’s been more of the second one.”

 

“I like hearing that.” Ash dropped his shirt to the floor.

 

Jackson looked at Ash’s chest. Adorning each pec were two nude male angels, their bodies inked to be muscled and beautiful. One had feathered wings, pure and heavenly in appearance, and the other had black reptilian wings, dark and haunting. Each embraced half of a heart, as if in battling against each other, they’d torn it in two. Along with the tattoos, both of Ash’s nipples were pierced with silver rings.

 

Jackson placed his hands on Ash’s waist, running them up his sides. “I love those two. They’re beautiful.” He drifted his hands to Ash’s chest, flipping the nipple rings with his thumbs. “And I’m really liking these.”

 

Ash closed his eyes. “And I’m really liking what you’re doing with them.”

 

Encouraged by Ash’s words, Jackson leaned forward, placing a kiss on Ash’s chest above the nipple before covering it with his mouth. He sucked on it, flicking the ring with his tongue. Ash laid a hand on Jackson’s head, a quiet moan purring in his throat. Jackson brought his hands down to Ash’s hips and slid them behind to his ass.  He rubbed his palms over the firm cheeks, and as he switched to give attention to the other nipple, he clamped onto Ash’s ass, jerking him forward.

 

Ash pushed his hands between their bodies to Jackson’s jeans and opened them. He gave a little growl at confronting Jackson’s boxers.

 

Jackson tugged the nipple ring with his teeth before sitting back. “I’m guessing you’re not a boxers kind of man.”

 

“I’m not an underwear kind of man, period.”

 

Jackson dropped his gaze to Ash’s crotch, realizing what that implied.

 

Ash pulled at Jackson’s jeans, trying to get him to lift his hips. Jackson rose slightly off the table. Ash dragged the jeans lower, taking the boxers with them, and bunching them down by Jackson’s cowboy boots. He looked at Jackson’s cock, the thick shaft curving in an arch, the tip resting near his navel. Ash touched his middle finger to the slit and traced down the full length to where it met Jackson’s sac. The length, the girth, his body already yearned to feel it stretching and filling him.

 

Ash wrapped his fingers around Jackson’s cock, squeezing against the hardness. Jackson’s head fell back, his eyes closing as a moan passed over his lips. He lifted his hips, moving his cock in Ash’s hand. Ash pumped the shaft in harmony with each rise and lower of Jackson’s hips, watching how Jackson moved them, envisioning them working between his own legs.

 

Jackson leaned forward again, and reached for Ash’s jeans. He unfastened the button, and as the zipped came down, Ash’s cock pushed out. He gripped the shaft and rubbed his thumb in circular motions over the broad head.

 

Having Jackson’s hand on his cock broke Ash’s control. He took Jackson’s mouth in a rough kiss, pressing him to lie further back on the table. Jackson reclined on one elbow, keeping his other hand on Ash’s dick. Ash rocked his hips with Jackson’s hand motions, never losing the rhythm of pumping Jackson’s cock. He kept his lips close to Jackson’s, sharing each quick breath with him.

 

He thrust harder into Jackson’s hand, jerked faster on Jackson’s cock. Jackson shuddered, his abs constricting, and Ash knew Jackson was about to lose it. He dipped his head toward Jackson’s ear, his voice a gravely whisper as he spoke. “Let it go, Jackson. Let me make you come.”

Copyright 2013 by S.J. Frost and MLR Press