The right man can save him.
All Ashley Wild wants is to open a new brewery with his friend and business partner Justin Wood, so they can introduce more of Sheffield to their Wildwood brews. Though a long-term relationship would be nice, too.
Journalist Ed Milner is tired of one-night stands and lousy hook-ups. One sip of a Wildwood beer and he’s keen to learn more about the men behind it. That’s when he meets Ashley, and what starts as an online article turns into a hot and heavy romance.
Ashley and Justin’s new premises are targeted by Norman Speed, head of the local residents’ association, who doesn’t want noisy nightlife in his back yard. When Norman is murdered, Ashley becomes the prime suspect, and it’s up to Ed to get to the truth and save the man he loves.
General Release Date: 13th October 2026
He would do anything for a taste.
Ashley stared at the bottle, frosty-cold from the chiller and with moisture beading on the glass, and licked his lips. Already, he could savour the crisp, refreshing pilsner as it trickled down his throat.
Even more, he wanted the man who held the lager out to him. Shirtless, every muscle of his ridged abdomen supremely defined, and with his jeans riding so low on his hips they threatened to slip and expose the curls of his pubic hair, he was the embodiment of Ashley’s filthiest fantasies.
“Take it between your lips,” the stranger ordered.
Ashley knew he wasn’t referring to the drink. He fumbled with the fly buttons of those artfully torn jeans and reached for the hard cock within. So big he struggled to wrap his fingers around it, and with a thick vein running along its length, it seemed to pulse with virility.
Obediently, he slipped the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue over the fat dome. As if he was sampling a new beer, he sought to pick out the elements of the stranger’s unique flavour. Salt, with a tart aftertaste that lingered on his palate and left him wanting more.
He swallowed the length down, taking as much of it as he could. Looking up, he registered the almost arrogant smile on the guy’s face. It only spurred him on to suck harder and turn that smirk into a grimace of anguished pleasures.
Tugging hard at Ashley’s hair, the man held his head in place so he could thrust, fast and deep. All Ashley could do was relax his throat and surrender to this stranger’s desires, preparing himself for the moment when his mouth would flood with hot, briny cum.
Not a word was spoken as the guy worked towards his orgasm. He moved his hips with fast, frenetic jerks that made Ashley feel as though he was nothing more than a glorified sex doll. He would never admit how much he loved the feeling of being willingly used in this fashion, but the strength of his erection as he gripped it in his fist gave the game away.
Ashley glanced up to see the man had his head thrown back. Every muscle in his ripped body strained with effort. His posture was that of someone who could no longer hold back the flood-tide of pleasure.
The stranger cried out, his yell of release turning into a high-pitched shriek that went on and on…
* * * *
Ashley lifted his head groggily from the arm of the couch. It took him a few seconds to realise the noise he could hear was a car alarm blaring in the street outside. He looked down at the ad in the magazine he’d been reading before he’d nodded off. It featured a muscular hunk in ripped jeans, lifting a bottle of premium Czech pilsner to his pouting lips. The image had been arresting enough to permeate its way into Ashley’s dreams, leaving him with an erection that still strained against the fabric of his sweatpants.
He had no idea how long he’d been dozing, but when he took a sip of the tea he’d been drinking before he fell asleep, it was stone cold. On the coffee table in front of him lay the shorthand pad in which he’d been making notes, jotting down the information that he and Justin would need as they looked to expand the business and open their own brewery tap. Taking Wildwood Brewing to the next step was proving more complex than either of them had imagined, but, as they told each other whenever they discussed their progress, nothing would stand in the way of their vision.
Ashley glanced at the time display on his phone. He still had a good forty minutes before he needed to leave for dinner at Frankie’s. Enough time to shower, change into something more appropriate than the sloppy clothing he wore around the house and nip to the nearest off-licence for a decent bottle of wine.
Falling asleep in the afternoon was his own fault, he told himself as he went through to the bathroom. He’d stayed up into the small hours almost every night last week. When he and Justin hadn’t been bottling their newest addition to the Wildwood range—an IPA subtly flavoured with citrus fruits and fragrant Kent hops—he’d been trawling the websites of estate agents and property management companies, searching for the right premises. He’d never worked so hard when he’d been employed as a software developer, but then he’d never felt so in control of his own destiny either.
Fragments of his erotic dream came back to Ashley as he stood beneath the spray, lathering his skin with olive-scented gel. It would be nice to take himself in hand and wank to the thought of that shirtless Adonis ordering him to get down and suck his cock, but he resisted the temptation. He didn’t want to run the risk of leaving the flat late and getting caught up in rush-hour traffic.
As he walked into the bedroom, where he’d laid out a black shirt and pair of khaki-coloured chinos on the bed, he heard his phone ringing where he’d left it on the coffee table. He thought about ignoring it, then decided not to. For all he knew, it might be Justin in need of an urgent word with him.
Visions of some disaster involving the freshly brewed consignment of Wild IPA crowded his mind. Ashley dashed into the living room, clutching the towel around his waist in a less-than-secure grip. He half expected the call to go to voicemail before he reached it, but he managed to snatch up the handset in time.
“Hello?”
A voice he didn’t recognise asked, “Is that Ashley Wild?”
“Yes, it is. Who’s calling?”
“This is Simon Lester, from Network Rail Property.”
Ashley recognised the name. He’d contacted the man a good three weeks ago, in connection with an industrial unit that was available to let within the old railway arches in the Wicker area of Sheffield. When he’d read through the specifications on the property, it had seemed ideal for his and Justin’s needs in terms of size and location—on the edge of the city centre, but not so far out that people would be deterred from visiting. As requested, he’d made an approach to take on the tenancy in writing, but as time had passed and he’d heard nothing, he’d begun to think his application had been unsuccessful.
“What can I do for you, Mr Lester?”
“Please, call me Simon. This is regarding your enquiry about Arch Three. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you on this sooner, but I’ve been on holiday and I’m still catching up with a number of enquiries that came in during my absence.”
“Don’t worry about it.” A small flicker of hope had awakened in Ashley at Lester’s words. Perhaps it meant the unit was still available, after all.
“In principle, we’re open to you taking on Arch Three for the purposes you outline in your email,” Lester went on, “though I’m sure you are aware that the building is still in need of some refurbishment.”
“Of course.” It was one of the reasons why he’d applied for that particular arch, rather than a couple nearby that had already been fully converted for retail or light industrial use. “It’s why we’d be looking to agree a long-term lease.”
“Yes, I did note that request in your application, and we’re keen to see if we can come to an agreement. I don’t mind telling you, this is a site that’s proving particularly hard to let…” He stopped, as if he’d already said too much. “Anyway, I’d like to invite you over to the arch for a viewing. It would actually be with my colleague, Ian Shaw—he deals with the day-to-day running of our properties in the South Yorkshire area.”
“That would be great, Simon. When did you have in mind?”
“How does Friday morning at ten o’clock suit you?”
“Perfect.” Ashley took down all the details, and thanked Lester again for getting back to him. By the time he ended the call, he was feeling more optimistic than he had in days. This could be the lucky break he and Justin had been hoping for.
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