About Hell Dogs Squadron
by AR Moler
185 pages / 50000 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-291-0
Ebook zipped file contains -
html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub
Navy F/A-18 pilot Lt. Cameron Bradshaw juggles a second government job in addition to his military commitments. He's a psychic finder for a mysterious agency known as Division P. Just as he starts the next Division P assignment, nearly lethal motorcycle accident nearly takes his life.
If not for the talents of gifted healer Dr. Mason Flynn, the Lt. might be dead. As the slow process of recovery begins, Mason Flynn is drawn to the injured pilot. A mix of shared psychic talents and physical attraction slowly binds them together, but the people responsible for Cam's accident escalate the affair, and soon Mason is running for his life.
A mad impromptu flight to Meridian Naval Air Station leads Cam and naval
intelligence to a direct confrontation with a group of missile thieves. A
vicious firefight leaves Mason scrambling to save teammates, but the final
endgame forces Mason to do the unthinkable, and put his own sanity in
jeopardy in the process. Can Cameron and Mason survive the trials thrown at
them and their burgeoning relationship?
Originally published as the Chaser series Hell Dog Squadron.
Sample
Cam’s eyes flickered from the plate up to Mason. He was picking up notes of
deep worry mixed with heavy, anguished desire to offer comfort. The doctor
wanted to offer more than just his fingers on the skin of Cam’s leg. Damn,
it was overwhelming to be the focus of all that intensity, somehow
awe-inspiring to be on the receiving end of that kind of care. Cam drank a
little of the milk, cursing internally at his own mental argument. It wasn’t
like he hadn’t ever touched other men. He wasn’t quite as dead straight as
he had implied. There had been a little experimenting.
He set the glass on the table beside the bed and looked at Mason. He took
hold of the Mason’s hand and laced his fingers between the long tapered ones
and met Mason’s eyes.
“Kiss me,” he whispered.
Mason raised an eyebrow. “Thought you said you didn’t do guys,” Mason
replied.
“I … have messed around a couple times. I’m military, so it was seriously on
the sly and nowhere on base,” Cam blurted out. Keep going, be honest, he
told himself. “I jerked off a guy I knew at a party. I wanted to watch his
face. I swapped blowjobs with someone in a bathroom at a club. I didn’t even
ever find out his name.” Cam could feel his face flame with embarrassment.
“I like women. I really do, but I…” He had to swallow hard again. “I’ve
never kissed a guy.”
Mason gave a slight snort of amusement. Cam relaxed a fraction. At least
Mason had a sense of humor. Cam watched Mason’s eyes and wondered what it
would be like to watch him come.
“You sure that’s what you want?” Mason asked.
“Yeah, I am,” responded Cam.
Mason scooted forward and leaned in toward Cam’s face. Cam could feel
Mason’s breath ghosting softly on his skin, lips hovering an inch from his
own. Then Mason’s mouth pressed softly against his. He felt warmth, caring,
the prickle of beard stubble, and the underlying sensation of Mason’s energy
signature. It started out very chastely. Then he could feel the tip of
Mason’s tongue tracing along his lower lip and he opened his mouth, wanting
to taste Mason. His hand fisted into the hair at the back of Mason’s head,
holding the man close, as his mouth was softly plundered and their tongues
dueled and explored. They slowly pulled apart. Cam was amazed. He’d kissed a
few women who were good at it. Very good. Somehow it wasn’t even the
male-female difference that intrigued him and revved his engine in ways he
hadn’t thought possible. It was the person. It was Mason. Did that make
gender irrelevant?