My friend and critique partner is playing FLE for me on this manuscript. Making sure the small changes I made work and that I haven't missed any typos. (Serious fingers crossed there. I was not happy about the number of typos that were in there even after I, my editor, and the original FLE went over it. We're only human, but geez!)
Look for the re-release in the next week or so! In the meantime, here's an excerpt:
He
barely recognized his own voice as he went on. "The human body is...
fascinating." There was a question, an invitation, underlying his
statement. He hoped Ash would hear it and understand. Despite this sudden swell
of bravery, he knew he couldn't say that
out loud.
A
slow smile spread across Ash's face. Matthew grinned back, guessing his message
had gotten through. His guess was confirmed when Ash asked, "Have you ever
had a live model?"
"No."
Matthew's cock strained at his breeches. He yearned to draw Ash, see him
stripped and posed. He couldn't remember ever wanting anything so much or so
urgently in his life.
Then
reality crashed down on him. His face fell. "My materials are at my
apartment." In the time it took to get there and back, the moment would be
beyond lost. And there was no way he was taking Ash back to his flat. He didn't
want Ash to see it. It was so unbearably grim, lacking in any charm or comfort,
especially when compared to Ash's quirky and inviting room upstairs.
"What
do you need?" Ash asked.
"Charcoal
pencils, largish paper."
"I
have that."
"You
do?" Matthew perked up at this spark of hope. It was almost too good to
believe. "How? Why?"
"Botany
class. We do a lot of plant sketching. I not only have charcoal pencils, I have
pressed pigment pencils."
Matthew's
eyes lit up and Ash grinned and grabbed his hand. "Come on." Ash
pulled him to his feet and toward the stairs.
Matthew's
practical side asserted itself and, still clinging to sense, he asked,
"What about our books?"
"No
one will bother them. Come on!" He practically dragged Matthew from the
parlor. By the time their feet hit the stairs, though, Matthew was plenty
willing to follow him up.
Inside
the cozy comfort of the little attic room, Ash went immediately to the window
seat. He opened it and fished around inside, coming up a moment later with a
large tablet and a tin box. "Here." He handed the box to Matthew who
opened it and looked in wonder at the myriad colored pencils within.
"Where
did you get these?" he asked, awed and envious.
"Some
of them I bought in town. Some of them my dad gave me before I came here."
Ash flipped through the tablet of his botany drawings, Matthew looking over his
shoulder. The plants were barely recognizable, and then only because he'd
labeled them. "They're awful, I know," said Ash. He pulled a
disgusted face. "It's all right to say so."
"I
just have one question," said Matthew.
"Yes?"
Ash turned and looked up at him. "What?"
"Are
you actually passing botany?"
Ash
burst out laughing. "All right, Master Critical." He flipped to a
blank sheet and shoved the tablet at Matthew. "Let's see you do
better."
"That
much I can guarantee."
"I've
never been an artist's model." Ash's eyes shone deep blue in the lantern
light and his voice was husky. "Tell me what to do."
Matthew
swallowed hard once. The heat and tightness in his groin were intense, and he
was glad for the tablet he held in front of him. What was he thinking? He'd
never get through this! Panic began to rise in him, quelling his arousal. No. I want to do this, damn it! Steeling himself and taking control of his
fear, he said with as much authority as he could muster, "Strip."
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