If you're under 18, then go on and git.

I don't know why Blogger ate the drawing ST/Naomi had made for me here. Thanks, Blogger, ya bag of dicks.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Monday Mood-Lifters

I've got a long shift today and am already achy, so here's a little something to make us all cheerier :-D
















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Thursday, October 18, 2018

Painted Sky Ch. 13

Copyright 2018
Bailey Bradford





Chapter Thirteen

The difference between rain and dew start with where they come from.






Kane stopped at the door and turned to Wyatt. “I want to see you again. I can come over, or…” 
Wyatt watched as sweat beads popped up on Kane’s brow and felt nervous himself. 
“Or we could go out, like on a date.” Kane rushed the words out and swiped at his forehead. “I mean—”
“I’d like that,” Wyatt said before Kane could retract the offer. Maybe he should have given Kane that chance, but the idea of an actual date, and with Kane in particular, was too tempting to resist. 
Kane’s smile made his eyes shine. “Great, great! I’ll text you with the details. Any night you aren’t free this week?”
It didn’t seem like Kane had been on the verge of taking his offer back after all. Though it was hard to believe, it appeared that he’d been nervous. 
Wyatt realized Kane was watching him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Wyatt cleared his throat. “Um, not— not that I know of, but let me get through this conversation with Mom before we make any plans.” 
Kane touched his arm, just a gentle brush of fingers, but Wyatt felt reassured or perhaps comforted by it. 
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Kane said. He inched forward, his gaze dipping down. “Can I have a kiss before I leave?” 
As if he needs to ask. Wyatt leaned in, and Kane met him halfway, pressing his mouth to Wyatt’s. 
Wyatt opened for him, and moaned when he slide his tongue alongside Kane’s, the kiss quickly growing from sweet to intense in seconds. Wyatt gripped Kane’s shoulders and lost himself for a moment or two before his brain started screeching at him in alarm. 
Wyatt pulled back, gasping as he raised a trembling finger to his lips. 
Kane nodded, his breath coming heavily as he watched Wyatt. “Yeah. Shakes me up, too.” He nudged Wyatt’s hand aside and traced over Wyatt’s lips. “I’d better go. Call me, or text me, or…or I’ll call you. Or text. Or—” He groaned, rolled his eyes, and stepped toward the door. “You turned me into a total dork, Wyatt Anderson. All my smooth moves split.”
Wyatt laughed, surprising himself as he did so. 
“It’s true. You kiss me and something up here melts.” Kane tapped his head. “I’m gonna go before your mom gets here. Tell Marianne I said hi, okay?”
“I will,” Wyatt promised. “And, um. I’ll text you this evening.” 
Kane’s smile was almost too much to take in, or maybe it was the joy he radiated. “Do that.” He winked. “Or I might show up outside your bedroom window.”
Wyatt cocked his head to the left as he tried to figure that one out. “And do what?”
“Dunno, but it might be noisy. Ever heard me sing?” 
Wyatt shook his head. 
Kane grinned. “Lucky man. That’s something you don’t want to encounter. See you soon, lover.”
Lover? 
“Yeah,” Kane murmured as if he’d heard Wyatt’s silent question. “That’s what I said.” Then he blew Wyatt a kiss and went out the front door. 
Wyatt wanted to chase after him, but that would almost certainly lead to more kissing. Having his mom pull up while he was making out with Kane wasn’t a situation he wanted to find himself in. 
So Wyatt forced himself to turn away and walk to the kitchen. It was close to lunch time; he’d make his mom something to eat. She’d run out that morning with a granola bar in her hand. That couldn’t have held her over for more than ten minutes. 
Then again, if she was angry at him— and he was sure she was— then food would be the last thing she’d want. Sighing, Wyatt settled for fixing two glasses of tea and setting them on the table. He could fix grilled ham and cheese sandwiches later if his mom was hungry. 
No sooner had he started out of the kitchen than he heard the rumble of his mom’s car outside. Wyatt stopped in the hall and closed his eyes, willing himself not to back down over who was to blame for the mess with Cheryl. It’d been his job—
He opened his eyes when the car door was shut. His mom strode the short distance to the porch steps then bounded up them. 
Wyatt hurried to open the screen door for her. The hinges squeaked and he winced. Had they made that noise when Kane had been there? Probably, but he’d been too preoccupied with Kane to notice. 
Marianne stopped in front of him and tucked her keys in her purse. “How long has Cheryl been running wild?”
Wyatt felt himself shrinking from a full-grown man down to a child. “Just this year. The last few months. She’s running around with—”
Marianne held up one hand. “My boss’s son.”
“Oh…shoot.” Wyatt blinked as he tried to process that. 
“You can say shit, Wyatt, because that’s definitely an oh shit thing,” his mother said, not entirely without an edge of her dry humor. “But not as much of one as her flunking out of her senior year.”
“Mom, I’m sorry, I—” 
“No,” Marianne cut in, giving him a stern glare. 
Wyatt snapped his mouth shut and ducked his head. It was hard not to apologize again, and he bit his tongue to keep from speaking. 
“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing here,” his mom said, taking him by the elbow. “Not you. I’ve been a…well, distracted, maybe. A distracted mom, and what that comes down to is, I’ve been selfish, lost in my own grief at first, then just…depressed. I’ve decided to see someone about that, and starting right now, I’m going to step up to where I should have been ever since your dad passed away.” 
Wyatt frowned as his mom started tugging him down the hall. “Wait, you’ve been depressed? Like just down or—” This time, he cut himself off. That was a stupid question
Marianne grunted and didn’t answer until they were in the kitchen. She let go of him and dropped her purse on the table. “I think maybe I’ve been struggling with depression for a long time, son. Longer than…Well, since before your dad’s accident. We…he and I…things weren’t—” 
Wyatt’s chest tightened and a burning started up in that vicinity as his mom’s bottom lip trembled. 
She swiped at her eyes and sniffled, but looked up at him without crying. “You know, it wasn’t something I could talk to him about, and I thought…I just figured it was the way things were going to be. But I’ve been reading up on it, and talking to some of my friends at work. There are a lot of people, well, a lot of women, anyways, that are my age or in that area, that seem to have depression, anxiety, just…” 
Wyatt waited for her ton continue while he tried to figure out what was going on. He knew about depression, in a distant sort of way. He’d imagined it meant people sitting around moping, looking miserable, not bathing, maybe quoting morose poetry. When he thought of all that, he felt like an uneducated fool. His mom was none of those things he’d imagined, and he didn’t think for one hot minute she was lying about being depressed. 
But since before Dad died? 
“His drinking had gotten so much worse the last few years he was alive,” his mom said, sitting in a chair. “That was…” Marianne sighed and shook her head. “I don’t want to turn you against your daddy.”
Nausea threatened to bring Wyatt to his knees. “What…what…” He gulped back something nasty. “What do you mean? Did he ever hit you?” Even asking the question made him want to cry. 
Marianne gasped, her eyes going wide. “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! He would never! And I’d have taken your grandma’s cast iron skillet to his head if he had. I’d never let any man hit me. No, it wasn’t anything like that. He just…” Her bottom lip wobbled again. “He just didn’t love me anymore.”
Wyatt dropped into the chair beside her. “No, Mom, he did, that’s—”
“He told me,” Marianne interrupted, jutting her chin out in that stubborn way she did. “He told me right after the twins were born. He said he didn’t love me, and that wasn’t my fault, it was his. He didn’t want a divorce until all you kids were older. I agreed to stay because…because I thought I loved him.”
Something dark and guilty twisted in Wyatt’s gut. He had a memory trying to pry its way out of his head and he didn’t want to see it. “Did he say why he— what happened?” How was he supposed to ask his mother why his father, who’d always seemed courteous and loving to her from Wyatt’s point of view, hadn’t loved her after all?
Marianne sniffled again and swiped a paper towel off the roll on the table before wiping her nose with it. “No. I asked if there was another woman, he laughed and said there wasn’t. That’s not the point, though. I had postpartum depression after the twins were born. I know that now, but I didn’t then. Just didn’t talk about that kind of thing. I’ll always wonder if that’s what made your dad stop loving me. It doesn’t matter,” she added hastily. “He stopped, but he didn’t mistreat me, and I never stopped loving him. Even if he wasn’t my husband in all the ways a man should have been, he was still my best friend, and watching him drink himself to death, I just have to wonder if he’d have done that if I’d have left. If I’d have freed him from the chains of a marriage he didn’t want.”
Marianne tsked then blew her nose. “That’s not what I came home to say. I came home to tell you I’m sorry for dumping all this responsibility on you. I shouldn’t have done that, and it’s my fault, all of this. Cheryl, you being stuck here—”
“I’m not stuck here,” Wyatt protested. “I love this farm, and my family.” Anger swelled inside him. He wasn’t like his dad, who, apparently, hadn’t loved his family. 
Not fair, a small voice inside Wyatt cried out. He loved you and your siblings. 
Not enough to stop being a drunk. Not enough not to kill himself…and now I’ll always wonder if that was an accident or if he meant to flip that tractor over. 
“Wy, look at me,” Marianne instructed. 
Wyatt dragged his gaze to his mom, his heart and mind aching. 
She took both of his hands in hers. “He loved you and your brother and sisters. He did, don’t ever doubt that. It was me he fell out of love with, not y’all. And I should have accepted that and divorced him. Instead, I stayed here, because it was easier, safer, maybe, and I didn’t have to try to build a new life. There are so many what-ifs that I have, and I’ve dwelled on all of them almost every day since he died. Hasn’t done me any good, and I’ve been willfully blind to the fact that Cheryl’s in trouble. I’m so sorry, son. I let you down and I let myself down, and your brother and sisters.”
“No, no you didn’t,” Wyatt protested, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. He was so angry at his dad, so disillusioned with him. “You’ve been here for us, always.”
“I have been here physically, maybe, but not even as often as I should have been,” Marianne countered. “That stops now. I’m still going to work— we need the insurance— but I’m going to take over the parenting. And my boss, he’s going to have a word or two with his son. I’m fortunate that he doesn’t blame me for this. He’d be right to. That’s not here nor there, though. What’s important is that you know this isn’t your fault. You were just a boy when your dad passed away, and I just…let you take on everything. Maybe even encouraged it.”
“Mom,” Wyatt rasped, his eyes stinging with tears he wasn’t going to be able to repress. “I wanted to. I promised Dad if anything ever happened…” And there he stopped, his lungs seizing up. There was one of the memories he hadn’t wanted to examined: His dad, not yet drunk, opening the tab on his first beer while telling Wyatt that if anything happened to him, Wyatt needed to step up and take care of the farm and the family. There was more to it than that; the conversation had been a little more in-depth, but he couldn’t bear to think about it. Not then, and maybe not ever. 
“He didn’t have any right to ask you to make that promise,” Marianne was saying, her voice carrying an edge of anger. “He shouldn’t have placed those burdens on you. And before you say we and this place aren’t burdens, I know that. I know you’d never see us or the farm as such, but the fact is, you should never have been made to feel obligated, Wyatt. You used to talk about going to college and becoming a veterinarian, or getting a degree in zoology or marine biology. Instead, you ended up staying here.”
“I wouldn’t have left after he died,” Wyatt muttered, the words like cactus needles prickling his throat. “I wanted to be here.” 
“You’re a good son, and a good man,” Marianne told him. “But you deserve to have some things just for you, Wy. A college degree if you want it, a house and family with the man you love. You deserve your dreams, honey, just like we all do, and I know this farm didn’t used to be your dream.”
Wyatt didn’t know he could ache so much inside without falling apart. “It is now. This is my dream. This is my family. This is where I belong.” 
Marianne stood and kissed his cheek. “But it’s okay to want more.” 
Wyatt did want more— he wanted his ignorance about his parents’ illusion of a marriage back. He wanted that happy feeling of being with Kane back. He wanted the innocence of his childhood back, that tunnel vision of joy that everything was always going to be okay back. He wanted a lot of things, but none of them were ever going to happen. 
Except for Kane. He'd make that happen. He wanted Kane, wanted to know what it felt like to be held and made love to— or fucked, he was in no place to be picky. He wanted that illusion of comfort and affection, maybe even needed it now that all his emotions and memories were raw and aching like exposed nerves. 
Instead of sitting back and just wanting, Wyatt was going to reach for this— reach for Kane. 
And he’d keep it real, not let himself forget that anything that happened with Kane would be a fling. Kane would leave, and Wyatt would stay at the farm. He belonged there, no matter what his mom thought. The farm was home, and even if his mom started taking over the parenting reins, Wyatt was still needed there. 

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Installments on Thursday & Friday

I worked today at my day job and am beat. I have to work tomorrow too, but will write installments Thursday and Friday. Recovering from strep and being on my feet all day is just exhausting. I hope y'all are having a fantastic week <3

Monday, October 15, 2018

Monday Babble

Let's see...I came down with strep throat Friday, and there went the weekend! And apparently, we are just skipping fall this year and going right to winter. I do not approve. It's effing freezing and there were snowflakes a half hour ago. Not going to see if that stuff is still happening.

I'm working on Mr. December, then I'll write Sun Shift 2 and continue the story of Cali, Jesse, and the Sanctuary crew. After that, The 13th Month needs to be written so I can finish this year's obligations to Pride. Next year, my writing schedule for them will be something like this:

New BDSM series #1                  
Preorder: 8th January
General Release: 19th February
I'll know more about this when I start writing it, but expect longer books and grittier stories along with more intense BDSM

Valen’s Pack #3
Preorder: 26th February
General Release: 9th April

Mossy Glenn Ranch #9
Preorder: 9th April
General Release: 21st May

This place is reserved for a revised story that originally was published by ARe. Longer, more detailed version. 

Contemporary #1
Preorder: 4th June
General Release: 16th July
No detail on this yet; this is what my rough plan looks like when I send it in for approval.

BDSM series #2
Preorder: 9th July
General Release: 20th August

Valen’s Pack #4
Preorder: 20th August
General Release: 1st October

Mossy Glenn Ranch #10
Preorder: 1st October
General Release: 12th November

Contemp #2
Preorder: 12th November
General Release: 24th December
As with the first Contemp listed, this will be a standalone.

BDSM series #3
Preorder: 24th December
General Release: 4th February 2020


And in between all of these, I'll be self-publishing as well. So, a busy upcoming year, not that this year has been slow. Putting out a book a month again, and self-publishing, and trying to have a job outside of the house...yeesh, it's been intense!! 

I hope you all have a fabulous week! ***huggz***

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Painted Sky Chapter 12

Copyright 2018
Bailey Bradford







Chapter Twelve


Wyatt wished he hadn’t blabbed that. He started to turn away but Kane caught him by both hands. 
“Hey, don’t…don’t turn away from me,” Kade murmured. “Please.”
Wyatt stopped and looked at Kade. 
Kade moved slowly, leaning in, then brushing his lips over Wyatt’s. 
Every part of Wyatt’s body tingled. All the tension that had coiled up in him unwound, and he parted his lips to Kade’s questing tongue. Kane kissed him with a tenderness that did something to Wyatt, or un-did something because his eyes stung with tears he refused to let fall. He closed them and hung on, resting his hands on Kane’s shoulders, trusting him with a little bit of his weight. 
Kane kissed one side of Wyatt’s mouth, then the other before ghosting his lips along Wyatt’s jaw. 
Wyatt shivered. “Kane…”
“I’m right here.” Kane kissed his neck, just below his left ear. “Right here.”
But what does that mean? Wyatt didn’t have the nerve to ask. Yes, Kane was there with him in that moment, but Kane would be going back to Santa Fe, to his life there. He’d hook up with other men, maybe find a boyfriend, fall in love…
Wyatt pulled back and cleared his throat. “We…we should get cleaned up before Mom gets here.” 
Kane studied him for a moment and frowned. “Okay. Are you going to freak out on me over this?”
Over what? Wyatt wanted to ask for clarification but didn’t have the nerve. “Nope.” He hoped his smile looked more sincere than it felt. “Come on.” 
He was surprised that Kane held onto one of his hands as they headed toward the house. It seemed like something a boyfriend would do, and he and Kane weren’t hardly even friends. 
Not that Wyatt was going to complain or tug his hand free. It fit so perfectly with Kane’s, and it wasn’t going to hurt anything to hold on for another minute or two. 
“How long until your mom gets here?” Kane asked, his shoulder bumping Wyatt’s. 
“Maybe forty-five minutes or so.” Wyatt hesitated at the porch steps, but Kane kept hold of his hand and started right up them. There was nothing to do but go with him. 
“We have time for a shower?” Kane asked. “I promise to keep it as PG-rated as two men showering together can be.”
Wyatt gulped and started to tug at his hat until he realized he’d never picked it up again. “Uh, my hat.”
Kane chuckled. “You know, you’re cute when you’re flustered, and sexy as fuck all the time no matter what you’re doing.”
“Me?” Wyatt hated that his voice squeaked. 
Kane nodded. “Yup, you. Want to get that hat?”
“Yeah. I feel naked without it.” Wyatt started back down the steps sideways, still watching Kane. 
“I’m looking forward to seeing you naked, Wyatt, even if I can’t do more than wash you off.” Kane winked at him. “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll get the shower running.” 
Kane was going to make him spontaneously combust from sheer horniness. “Uh, upstairs, second door on the right.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Kane smirked as he raked Wyatt with his gaze. 
Wyatt darted off to get his hat. He could swear he felt Kane watching him, but didn’t dare peek to see if that was the case. 
Though once he’d scooped up the hat and turned to jog back, the screen door popped shut. 
So maybe Kane had been ogling him. Wyatt couldn’t help but grin as he raced into the house. He took the stairs two at a time and barreled into the bathroom— not, he told himself, because he was eager to see Kane and get naked with him, but because he needed to get the scent of spunk washed off himself. 
Then he saw Kane, naked as the day he was born, bent over to turn the knobs for the shower. 
Wyatt’s breath shot out of his lungs. He wasn’t even sure his heart was beating as he stared at Kane’s ass, a little paler than the rest of his skin, but still golden. He had a darker trail of hair down his crease, and a light coating of fuzz on his buttocks. His thighs were sculpted with muscles and hairier than Wyatt would have expected, though he didn’t know why that was the case. He’d just have guessed that Kane wasn’t so fuzzy or that he’d wax or… whatever guys did to remove body hair. 
But no, Kane had what bordered on an abundance of it. He moved one leg, propping his knee on the side of the tub, and that gave Wyatt a view of his heavy balls and even his dick hanging down. 
Wyatt went hot then cold and he suddenly remembered he needed air. 
At Wyatt’s too-loud gasp, Kane glanced over his shoulder. “Like the view?” Kane reached back and slapped his own ass cheek, the sound bouncing off the bathroom walls. He’d left a red handprint there on his rump. 
Wyatt licked his lips and tried to speak, but really, what was he supposed to say? He was all but drooling over Kane, and that had to be obvious.
Kane trailed his fingers down part of his crack, moved them lower and lower still. “Too bad we have to hurry.” 
“Kane,” Wyatt rasped, not sure what he wanted to say. 
Kane stood and turned. He hefted his balls into one hand, and touched his hardening cock with the other. “Yeah, I want you just as bad, but the next time we come, it’s going to be when we have time to explore each other properly. No more rushing. You and I deserve more pleasure.”
Wyatt was stuck on the ’next time’ part of all that. 
“Better hurry up and get in here with me.” Kane stepped into the shower and held the curtain aside. “Come on and let me see you, cowboy.” 
Wyatt set his hat on the shelf where the washcloths were. He kept his gaze tangled with Kane’s as he put the lid down on the toilet so he could sit and remove his boots. 
Much to Wyatt’s surprise, he didn’t do anything foolish. He stripped down with more grace than he’d ever thought he had, and he reveled in the hunger in Kane’s eyes. 
“Come here,” Kane growled, and there was no missing his erection or the approval in his eyes as he stared at Wyatt.
Wyatt got in and pulled the shower curtain closed. “We aren’t messing around?”
“Don’t have time,” Kane replied. “Unless you want to risk having your mom get here while we’re still—”
“No.” Wyatt didn’t want that at all. 
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t any fun to be had, as he discovered. Running soapy hands over Kane’s wet skin was something Wyatt could get addicted to. He told himself this was a one-time thing, because the chances of Kane getting into his shower again had to be less than Wyatt’s chance of becoming rich. Even if Kane did want to get with him, want to fuck him, that didn’t mean there’d be a shower.
And Kane— he knew how to touch Wyatt, where to rub and how to tease. Wyatt’s hands trembled as he washed Kane at the same time. Then Kane pushed his hands aside and stepped right up against him. 
“Oh, oh Jesus,” Wyatt mumbled, mind boggled by the slide and heat of Kane’s body against his. 
“Yeah.” Kane caressed Wyatt from biceps to elbows, then down to his ass. 
Wyatt nearly came on the spot when Kane grabbed both off his cheeks. 
“Sweet,” Kane said, then he dipped his head and licked the divot at the base of Wyatt’s neck. He dug his fingers into Wyatt’s buttocks, holding him tight. “All of you. So sweet.” 
Sweet didn’t seem to be a bad thing, judging by Kane’s dick pressing against Wyatt’s. 
Wyatt held onto Kane’s shoulders and tipped his head back— then coughed and sputtered when he got a snout full of water. 
Well, he was a classy dude. Wyatt wanted to wash right down the drain with the soapy suds. 
Kane moved him to the side then kissed the embarrassment right out of him, chasing away everything but Wyatt’s awareness of Kane. 
The kiss went on and on, fierce at times, then tender, lingering, sweet— until Kane finally rested his forehead against Wyatt’s. 
Wyatt noticed the way the water droplets gathered on Kane’s lashes, the slow roll then drip of them as they gave way to gravity, the thick length of Kane’s eyelashes, the way his eyebrows almost met, the narrow bridge of his nose and the freckles under his eyes at the top of his cheeks. He memorized everything he could in those moments, storing up memories for after. 
After what, he didn’t want to dwell on. 
Kane nuzzled Wyatt’s cheek, his chin, his lips, then moved back with a reluctance that clung to him as much as the water skating over his skin. 
“We’d better get out,” Kane said, his voice all rough edges. 
Wyatt touched Kane’s cheek, the shadowed depth under it. “Yeah, I reckon.” They’d been in there for a while, and it’d been wonderful even though they hadn’t had sex. But Wyatt feared that Kane had brought something to the surface in him, a need for companionship, a need to be touched by a lover, that Wyatt had been able to suppress up until then, or at least ignore. 
He’d deal with it, just like he’d dealt with everything else that had come his way. Wyatt forced his thoughts away from the matter and turned the water off. The time he’d had with Kane had been an interlude he’d never expected, like a dream or a fantasy that had bled over into reality.  

But now it was time to get back to his life and face the consequences of trying and failing to be the man of the house his dad would have demanded he be.