Showing results by author "K. M. Neuhold" in All Categories

Is there such thing as love at first bar fight? I may be small and pretty, but what I lack in intimidation factor, I make up for in violence. I made a vow five years ago that the motorcycle club responsible for my brother’s death would pay the price, and I’m finally ready to collect. May God have mercy on the men who hurt my brother, because I don’t plan to.

I feel like I've been fighting my whole life, and tapping out has never been an option. I can live with owing money to the Morettis. I can even live with the constant guilt that my brother is the one paralyzed in a hospital bed while I live his dream. What I can't live with is Elio Moretti, second in command to the infamous crime family, showing up to all my fights, sitting in the front row, watching me like he can't look away, and barging into the locker room to patch up my wounds and invade my space.

He hated me from the second he laid eyes on me, and I don't have the first clue why.... But, if he wants to hate me, I'm happy to give him a few reasons: mowing the lawn at dawn on the weekend, leaving garbage cans in front of his driveway, renting a petting zoo for my backyard...making a list of ways to drive him crazy is half the fun.

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before.

Lewis. Clingy, needy, Too Much. Just a few choice words from men who never deserved me anyway. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again though. I plan to ride the motorcycle hottie of my dreams just until we both get bored. Besides, who has time for anything but a quick fling when the jerks at the tattoo shop next door insist on doing everything they can to annoy the hell out of me with some stupid prank war?

When Gates shows up needing a place to crash , I offer him my spare room. Whatever happened between us nearly a decade ago is water under the bridge. I don’t lie awake at night wondering what could have been. Nope, definitely not.

The last place I expected to run into my childhood camp crush was at the local university, looking all kinds of cute in a tweed jacket with a nervous blush. I’ve always had a bit of a thing for the nerdy professor type. Demetri says he doesn’t date. I want to believe that it’s true and not that he’s not interested in a transgender man like me.

As long as LonelyDaddy is on the other side of the computer screen, there’s a chance he could be the man Emerson has been dreaming of. I’ve gotten used to being alone, to disappearing inside the fictional worlds between the pages of a book, and letting my lonely life fade away.

The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?

Shallow pretty boy, conceited fuckboy, immature assclown. Take your pick, they all apply to Brewer. The world is his ass buffet, and we’re all on the menu. I’ve never hated anyone like I hate Brewer. But when Rebel pairs us to do a scene together, I have to admit I’m looking forward to taking all my irritation out on his...well, you get the picture. When one scene turns into a whole fake relationship, I’m not sure we’re going to make it out of this without some bloodshed.

After more than a decade, the last person I expected to see walk into the Four Bears Construction offices as a new hire was Ridge. He was my first crush, and my first heartbreak when he started dating my sister. When he left her at the altar without so much as a note, I wrote him off for good. No amount of excuses and explanations can erase what he did. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. But when we end up being sent to a remote campground alone to spend a month rebuilding the cabins, it’s too easy to remember why I fell for him in the first place.

What will happen when my secrets are exposed? I’m lying to my mom about how I make my living. I’m lying to the Ballsy Boys about my life. I’m lying to myself about who I am. I pretend to be Campy, but I am Cameron. But does anyone even know the real me? When I meet my new roommate, a sexy Texan cowboy and break-out TV star named Jackson, all my lies start to come out. He makes me want to be myself, but I’ve spun so many lies that I don’t even know who I am anymore.

When the band manager, Archer, hires Bennett to keep me from screwing up while the band is on hiatus, I may have finally met someone who won’t take my attitude lying down. With the three of us cooped up together for weeks on end, I have a feeling things might get interesting.

I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at 30 definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list….

Sex has never been my main priority. Not what people expect to hear from someone who’s been head camera man for the single best studio in the kind of industry I work in. I thought I’d seen it all working for the Ballsy Boys, but helping to build the Kinky Boys from the ground up seems like it’s going to be an eye opening experience. A man has never turned my head before, so why can’t I stop checking out Daddy? Sex might not be the height of excitement for me, but watching subs kneel for their Daddies certainly has me wondering....

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

Stud: A boss, knob, or nail head...or, you know, the hot guy who’s way too young to keep asking me out with that adorably earnest smile...It’s been three years since West walked into my bar and asked me out for the first time. I was relieved he stopped asking after the first few “no's" and a way-too-good-to-be-real kiss. He’s 15 years younger than I am; it can only lead to trouble.

Saying I've had a crush on my best friend's older brother, Pax, most of my life is like saying the big bang was just an explosion. It's true, but I'm not sure that quite captures the essence of its true enormity. I don't think my advanced physics knowledge is going to help me figure this one out. But I think for once I'm okay with not knowing, as long as Pax and I don't know together.

It took me over 35 years to admit to myself that I’m gay, another seven to find the courage to say it out loud to anyone else, and exactly 30 seconds to develop a massive crush on my daughter’s music teacher. It’s really not my fault. Have you even seen those cute bowties he wears? After everything it’s taken to get here, am I going to work up the nerve to come out to my ex-wife and my best friends?

I’m everyone’s friend, but no one’s everything...I love working for Ballsy Boys, but when you make the kind of videos I do, relationships are pretty damn impossible. Guys find me sexy and want to either be with me or be me, but no one has ever cared enough to see the real me. Until I meet Troy...who shows up in a banana suit at my door. Long story.