Trig isn’t looking for something special when he comes to the Gay Riders’ Carnival this year, but it just might have come looking for him.
It’s Trig’s fourth year at the Gay Riders’ Carnival and this year he’s not sure if he’s looking for more than a few nights of camping, checking out the booths and listening to the music. He’s been dumped a lot in the last year and is looking more to lick his wounds and just relax.
It’s the first time at the Carnival for Tarzan and he doesn’t know exactly what to expect. When he lays eyes on Trig, though, he knows what he wants. Trig claims he’s not a bottom, but he’s tripping all of Tarzan’s instincts.
Can these two men find a middle ground, or will their attraction last only as long as the Carnival itself?
Publisher's Note: This book is the sequel to The Biker's Pup by Sean Michael. It is best read in sequence but can be read as a standalone.
General Release Date: 5th January 2016
Trig Magnussen drove onto the Gay Riders’ Carnival campgrounds, pulling his camping trailer. He’d decided not to ride his Hog in. The weather was fucking awful, one huge storm after another for the last few days and forecast for the entire weekend. There was no reason to miss the festival, though. He fucking loved this party, but damn, he intended to be comfortable, especially at night.
The place was already pretty packed, lots of folks with their camping gear. Looked like he wasn’t the only one determined not to miss the gay bikers’ biggest weekend of the year. He got himself a spot and backed the trailer into it, opening it up into his home for the next few days.
It took him about an hour to set everything up the way he liked it—the lawn chairs out facing the stage, the citronella candles for the bugs. He’d put in some groceries, but not too many, knowing that he’d be sampling some of the food there. At least it wasn’t raining at the moment, which made setup much smoother and less grumpy-making.
He knew if Whip and Nicky made it, they’d be staying at the cabins. They were still in their honeymoon phase, even after a damn year, and needed a good solid bed underneath them. Hey, at least someone was happy, right?
No bringing yourself down. Just because you’ve gone through no less than six subs in the last twelve months… One of them had even lasted four months.
He shook himself and double checked that everything was set up to his liking. Then he headed out into the carnival. He was dressed in his leathers, hair pulled back and bound in a braid, tight T-shirt on. He looked good.
He decided he wasn’t searching for a boy this time out. He was looking for a good time. He had friends here and he was sure if he struck out altogether with picking anyone up, one of them would be happy to roll in the trailer with him. Still, that didn’t stop him from admiring.
The booths and vendors were still in prep mode, but no one seemed to mind him being nosy. He was drawn to the leather booth, loving the smell of it. To him it always meant sex—kinky, toppy sex. Trig loved the clothes, the heaviness of a bracelet. Hell, he was into the workmanship. Leatherwork was a different skill from woodwork, but he loved the care that went into it.
He touched everything, his fingers lingering over the butter-soft leather jackets and the harder sensation of the thick leather saddlebags. One of these would go perfectly on his Hog. Maybe that would be his splurge this year.
“Anything I can help you with?” asked the vendor, the man wearing his own gear and looking fine. That was the best advertising.
“How much for the saddlebags? They’re gorgeous.”
“Three hundred and fifty apiece.”
Which wasn’t bad at all for good-sized bags. An excellent price, if you considered they were hand-crafted.
He nodded. “Sounds more than fair. I’ll have to look at everything before I blow my load, but I’ll be back.”
“Fair deal. Feel free to browse around. I’ll be here all weekend. If you’d like me to hold one back…”
“Oh, that would rock. Thanks, I appreciate it.” Trig gave the guy his name and shook the man’s hand before checking out the rest of the goods in the tent.
Man, look at the chaps. He didn’t need them, but he loved the look—on a big, hard body, with a tight, full ass. It made him groan and begin to fill the front of his own leather pants, making them just the right amount of uncomfortable.
God, he needed to get laid.
Bestselling author Sean Michael is a maple-leaf-loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.
Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.
Reviewed by Inked Rainbow Reads
Whip and Nicky were a smoking hot couple. Despite having a strange start to their relationship, their chemistry is undeniable. I loved that this book took place at a convention of sorts - that there...
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Reviewed by MM Good Book Reviews
This was a sweet read with plenty of heat to make it even better.
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