Fleeing the questions and horrific memories in Miami-Dade, Trevor Garrett accepts a deputy position in the small town of Rolling Fork, Mississippi. Plagued by anxiety attacks and an abhorrence to being touched, Trevor rebuffs his best friend’s attempts to set him up. He has no desire for any type of relationship; until the local golden boy strolls into his line of sight at the neighborhood dive…
Logan Andrews just wants to take care of his mama. After years of serving his country in the Army Special Forces, Logan resigns when he learns his mother is suffering from advanced stages of Alzheimer’s disease. A night out with old friends turns heated when the newest deputy in town catches his attention…
When a sexually deviant killer sets his sights on the gay men in the area, Trevor is assigned the case. In a wicked twist, all evidence points to Logan. Can Trevor’s past be repeating itself? In a race against a killer, Trevor struggles to overcome his own insecurities and clear the man whose touch sets him on fire. Will he succeed or will their budding relationship become Collateral Damage?
Forty-five minutes later, he lay back on the bench press.
Sweat slicked his body and his muscles sang with adrenaline. For the first time
since arriving in Mississippi, Trevor felt something other than apathy.
Disappointment dwelled in his gut. He refused to attribute it to the fact Logan
had not shown up. He was at the gym to work out, not scope out the local hero.
And, there was the fact he still hadn't asked questions about the missing
Trevor closed his eyes and huffed out an agitated breath. Screw
that. Logan was exactly why he was there and it was downright frustrating the
man hadn’t appeared. Without opening his eyes, Trevor reached up and closed his
fingers around the barbell. He sucked in air for the initial lift.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to lift without a spotter?”
Trevor’s eyes popped open and the air rushed from his lungs. Logan’s sexy drawl
was enough to make a man’s knees weak, but with his ‘package’ displayed in
skintight biker shorts mere inches from Trevor’s suddenly dry mouth, he
floundered as if pole-axed. Logan grinned, obviously aware of the effect he was
having on Trevor.
Trevor swallowed. “So, spot me,” he rasped. If possible, the
mischief in Logan’s electric blue eyes intensified. He shifted position.
Powerful thighs bracketed Trevor’s head. Logan squatted, back straight and
hands on either side of Trevor’s on the cool metal. The position put the
enticing bulge directly in Trevor’s line of sight. All thought of weights and
lifting vanished. He licked his lips and wondered at his body’s fierce reaction
to the man. Under the guise of adjusting his grip, he brought their hands into
contact. No revulsion, no panic, just unadulterated lust.
“You’re buying me dinner tonight,” he blurted. Logan’s eyes
went hot and hungry. “And, I expect a bit of…” The pause pissed Trevor off. He
was a fucking man; the emo shit had to go. “I expect entertainment of the
sexual variety.” A predatory look passed over Logan’s handsome face.
“Then, I suggest we get the workout done and make early reservations,”
the man stated and forcibly lifted the barbell free of the rests. The reps
passed in a blur, and they switched places. He mimicked Logan’s earlier pose
and nearly came in his loose basketball style shorts when Logan’s hand—slipped.
The brush of knuckles against his cock sent pure electricity flashing into
Trevor's brain. He glanced around the room at the other men. None paid them any
attention. It was the nature of the gym. Spotters and lifters were symbiotic
and no one gave a second thought to stray touches or contact.
By the time Logan finished his workout, Trevor felt like a
beginner training with a power lifter. The man knew his way around a set of
weights and a barbell. Mostly, Trevor watched Logan while he cooled down. It
only served to heighten his lust. Trevor didn’t know what it was about Logan
that pulled at him, but he wasn’t fighting it. He hated the icy numbness he’d
been living with, but even more he detested the fear and anxiety that
overwhelmed him at another’s touch.
As if sensing his regard, Logan locked eyes with him. His
broad shoulders bunched under the weight suspended across them. Massive
quadriceps bulged when Logan squatted and returned to his six foot, four inch
height. His shirtless torso gleamed with sweat. The eight pack of solid muscle
clenched above the gorgeously defined V muscles pointing toward his crotch. The
Mississippi sun had nothing on the heat Logan was putting off. Trevor was
drowning in the waves of it.
Abruptly, he stood to relieve the tension in his shorts. The
towel across his shoulders slid off his shoulders with a tug to cover the
growing bulge. He edged closer to Logan who still sported the massive weight.
Determined brown eyes met mesmerizing blue.
“Pick me up at six-thirty. I’ll make reservations for us in
the city. Come prepared for an all-nighter. It’s been a while for me,” Trevor
ordered, using up the last of his composure. The heat pouring off of Logan’s
sweaty body intensified the arousing aroma of the man’s skin. So much so, it
tied Trevor’s gut in knots. If he didn’t get his ass out of the gym, he was
going to out them both right there on the spot.
Logan’s eyes and nostrils flared, sensing Trevor’s
undisguised arousal. “I won’t be late. Business casual?” Trevor nodded and
walked calmly toward his bag and the front doors. He felt Logan’s intense gaze
every step of the way. His balls tightened and he gave in to the urge to bend
over and give Logan a good long gander at his ass. Heavy weights crashed
against the mats followed by an animalistic growl. Trevor grinned at his Nike
bag, zipped it and left the building without looking back.
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FRM38RW
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01FRM38RW
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01FRM38RW
Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B01FRM38RW
Prize: 5 ecopies of Collateral Damage by J.T. Cheyanne
About the author
#1 Best Selling Author of Grand Slam, J.T. Cheyanne is a genre crosser who writes romance and paranormal in the m/m and m/f genres. J.T. Cheyanne resides in the beautiful state of Alabama. J.T. lives with her two sons and daughter. An avid reader since fourth grade, she has only just started writing her own stories. She also has several works published with her co-author, V.L. Moon.