Heated Nights and Sultry Days…

That’s what happens in my worlds where passion knows no color or sexual preference other than ALL. I have two sexy pieces coming out that are all m/m with Rebel Ink Press and I thought you’d like to take a “bite” or at least a “lick” out of them. Sadly this is the very last Hot Summer Nights going out and I’m so damn proud of the collection, including the fact I hosted a guest author – Remmy Duchene. I’m happy to announce that she and I have collaborated on The Peeping Hole – another collection and we’ll both be bringing you sexy snippets later.

Dirty Little Lunches is ongoing and will continue through the end of the year with a final compilation of all of them WITH a spanking new story just in time for the holidays. I hope you enjoy a taste and please let me know what you think. Both are coming out later today or tomorrow at all the hot locations.



There was nothing like the bright lights and adoring fans as you strutted the red carpet. Too bad Jameson Wallace was a washed up romantic lead and only sought after for independent films. Garnering a highly coveted spot in a French flick debuting at the ritzy film festival in Rio, he became convinced he was going to make a splash among the locals. Approached at the event by the most famous and influential local film director in the country, he was determined to become a new star. Lured into discussing a new contract, and one that would keep in the country indefinitely, he began a casual relationship with the influential businessman. What he didn’t anticipate was the man’s ugly demeanor or his complete infatuation for the brooding blond God.

Phillipe Broussiant knew of Jameson’s reputation as being a difficult actor to work with. When the two were introduced, he realized quickly Jameson broiled his dark needs and his desires to tame the gorgeous man grew to a breaking point. He was a man hungering all flavors of kink and few men could handle his particular needs. Offering the actor a long-term contract in an upcoming film, he attempted to keep their meetings professional. As heated days and soulful conversations turned into nights of longing, both men finally revealed their haunted souls and their dark secrets became too much to bear. Now determined to remain aloof, they separated business from any concept of pleasure, refusing to succumb to their burning needs. That is until one hot summer night when everything changed.


Jameson Wallace grinned like a kid and adjusted his bowtie as he stood just behind a group of women, dressed to kill. Giving them an appreciative nod, he inhaled deeply and realized there was nothing in the world like the exotic scents of Rio de Janeiro. Between the nights filled with music and indulgent parties to the women and men dressed to kill, everything was spectacular. He brushed his hands through his hair and blew hot air across a closed hand. His breath was fine, the penguin suite fit perfectly and he looked like a movie star.

“Jameson Wallace!”

Hearing his name being called he stood tall, pushing back his shoulders and placing his hands in his pockets, acting just as casual as he could muster. Strolling out onto the red carpet, he waved to the crowd of adoring fans and pursed his lips, every move practiced from years of being in the limelight.

“Welcome to our Rio’s hottest film festival. Tell me, how do you like our sensuous city?” Her voice purred, the accent sultry, as she slipped the microphone in front of his face.

Sadly, he had no idea who she was. While he was used to seeing a multitude of bottled blonds, this one definitely was a vixen in a sleek red dress, one matching the velvet walking strip almost perfectly. “From the beautiful people and the incredible beaches to the luscious cafes and perfect weather, what’s not to love?”

Hearing a group of young women squeal to his left, he smiled broadly and puffed up his chest. As he darted a glance in their direction, he could easily tell they were looking at the buffoon who was following him in the parading lineup of stars. Thor or Brutus certainly had all the women and the majority of the men in town lurking around his hotel room, hungry for a mere taste of his carved body.

Jameson refused to look down the length of his own body. He was damn good looking at six foot three inches with a full head of midnight curly hair and a smile sexy pussycats drooled over. Unfortunately that had been years and a solid six movies ago. Now, he was little more than a washed up has been in Hollywood and memories were quickly fading. There had to be more in life.

“That’s simply delicious. Tell me about your new film. Sin of Man is a brutal action film, isn’t it?”

“To a degree, but it’s more about the angst of an aging man as he attempts to bring back his days fighting criminals.” One, two, three and he’d lost her completely. No one gave a shit about anything other than slaughter fests, gritty cop dramas or the kinds of movies with action heroes the size giants and every one of them with huge cocks. The second she looked back at Thor, he wanted to rip her throat out and find a well-deserving alligator to feed to his ever-loving heart’s desire.

“Thank you, Jamie and glad to have you with us. Enjoy your stay.”

“That’s Jameson.”

Blondie moved away so fast he almost tripped on the train of her dress. Grunting, he scanned the crowd for any more admirers. Oh who the hell was he kidding? He just wanted one freaking person who pretended like they gave a rat’s ass. Still, he was proud of the highly coveted independent movie and had enjoyed the hell out of filming the artsy piece in its entirety for three months almost a year before. Since then he’d only had minor roles and while they’d almost paid the bills, the roles were certainly beneath him. He was a movie star after all. Tell yourself another lie. The ugly truth was he hadn’t had a career in a hell of a long time. In his mind he was lucky Hollywood hadn’t run him out on a steel rail.

Exhaling slowly, he eyed the expansive bar at the end of what he liked to call the circus run. It was definitely time for a drink or more. He continued waving to the crowd, simply hoping a few photographers would pick up how thrilled he was for the release of the movie and the fact the noir based film might just win an award. Jameson thought about the last few whirlwind days and they’d been fantastic, if one considered being relegated to the back of the crowd remotely positive.

He had to laugh at himself. Forty-three and toast and not toast of the town either. As a series of firecrackers sounded off in the distance, he stopped and gazed into the night sky. At least he’d been able to afford to come to his own movie premier and maybe would indeed grab an award. Miracles could happen. Well, there were a solid five days of festivities in the way first. In the way. Wasn’t that an ugly way to look at the highly rated event?

Jameson wasn’t a patient man and as he stood in line, listening to the jabbering of men and women, mostly conversing in French, he was reminded just how many aspects of his life was missing. French lessons abated after two years and he could only converse with bartenders or prostitutes. Modeling pushed aside for the glory of movies and yet his college roommate was making seven figures with ease even at his age. He had a bank account dwindling to the point of realizing he was going to have to work a real job for the first time since the pizza parlor when he was a freshman in college.

“What would you like, sir?”

Tipping his head, the delicious accent of the French men got him every time. Dear God, he was horny. The man, more like a boy really, had muscles in all the right places and his shoulder length blond hair was enticing. “Hmmm… I think I’ll start with an orgasm tonight. You do have those don’t you?” Of course the boy knew he was flirting like a son of a bitch.

“Tall, creamy and certain to fill your mouth. That is if you can handle the foam.” Leaning over the bar, the blond gave him a heated look as he licked his lips.

“I can handle just about anything thrown my way,” Jameson shot back, unable to resist glancing down the length of his body.

“Then the first one is on the house as long as you show off your wares.”

As he watched the man walk away, he sighed and had to think about the last time he’d even had sex. Hmm… Too damn long and the last man was more of fumbling in the back seat of a car with a fellow actor after one too many drinks. On top of being caught by the director with his pants down, the guy had several odd twitches to boot. Right now he’d consider settling for almost any sexy hunk.

“Can you?”

The timbre was husky and the accent decidedly old world French and for a brief second his cock pushed hard against the crotch of his pants. As he turned slowly, there was something immediately so enigmatic about the draw of the man, whose shoulder length sun kissed hair and dazzling emerald green eyes captivated him, that his breath was momentarily stolen. He wasn’t the kind to get all flustered over any man but this one. Wow. He could envision long nights exploring and tasting. “I beg your pardon?”



Jory Walker was a hungry man and one in need of a relationship. No, the truth was he was in need of a wild tryst. After all, being a geeky computer guy hadn’t garnered him anything but heartache and betrayal. Unable to come up with a new marketing campaign for his boss’ failing home improvement business, Jory was wallowing in self-pity. That is until the man who starred in his every fantasy sought him out. Stone Williams was a very sexy and oh-so-dark in flavor maintenance man and suddenly he needed to enter Jory’s apartment for a little maintenance work on his pipes. While the thought was daunting, Jory allowed Stone inside and suddenly there was more than just a dirty little lunch in the making.


“I am so going to fuck that man, one way or the other. Or maybe he’s going to take me down, rough and tumble style, but trust me I am going to suck his gorgeous black cock before the summer is out,” Jory Walker stated as he lifted his sunglasses and licked his lips.

Spitting out the entire contents in his mouth, Brice Sampson coughed and then choked and then stared at the large black man as he moved from one apartment to another, a tool bag in his hand. “Uh, I have no idea what to say other than go for it, or him. I guess. Maybe. This isn’t like you at all!” Taking another guzzle of his drink, he shifted on the lounge and shook his head.

“Why? Because I think the guy’s sexy as fucking hell?” Sexy? Hell, the six foot something and a half, stunning chocolate laced hunk was all muscle and legs and huge arms and… Drooling wasn’t normally his style but he had to admit, the man was a powerhouse in a uniform. God had been more than kind to the gorgeous man. His mouth watered thinking about sucking him hard. Lordie he was flustered. That’s what happened after not having a man for like… Hell, how long had it been?

“Because you’ve been more like a fly on the wall, preferring to hide behind your computer system — I’m sorry, computer systems. Yeah, you’ve been doing nothing but acting like the geek of the year playing video games and chatting on Facebook with a whole series of losers rather than salivating over anyone, including the maintenance man from your apartment complex. Jesus! What gives now?”

“That doesn’t make me bad. That just makes me horny as hell. About time I live for a damn change.” Dear God Jory was so fucking horny that masturbating wasn’t cutting it any longer. Between the friction burns and the rough calluses on his hands, he was starting to wonder whether he was ever going to have a man again. Doing the hokey pokey in his office bathroom wasn’t the best course of action either. The last time his boss had cornered him in his little office cubicle demanding to find out what health issues he had going on.

Lifting his sunglasses Brice grinned like a loon. “I’m glad to see you alive, buddy after what Tim or Tom or whatever the asshole’s name who used and abused you was, but I just don’t know what you see in that guy. I didn’t think you were into flavors.”

“You mean other than his perfect body, incredible Australian accent and what I can see to be a huge cock filling those tight pants? Are you kidding me? You mean other than that?” His heart racing, he’d fantasized about the man on too many occasions. He didn’t need to be reminded just how much of a loser he was. Finding Jim fucking a pretty little blond boy in his bathroom wasn’t good for his libido or his aching heart, but at least the breakup had been clean and fast. Well, given the fact he’d grabbed a knife and threatened both of them, everything had worked out for the best. And he’d kept his livelihood in the process.

“Okay. I’ll spot you that. He’s hot as hell and build like a brick shithouse but I have one question for you.”


“What if he isn’t into men?”

A dull thudding roar pounded in his ears. Yeah, what if? Sniffing, he brushed his hand down from his neck to his chest, fiddling with the three hairs on his chest. “I’ve seen him looking at me, leering like he wants me. Yeah. He’s all hot and bothered for this big dick.” Brushing his hand over his crotch, the same ache he felt every day coursed through his system. Pathetic wasn’t a strong enough word.

“Fantasize much?” Snorting, Brice took another sip of his drink, set the glass down with a hard thud and then leaned back on the lounge chair. “Besides, I’ve seen your cock and it ain’t nothing to write home to mama about.”

Hissing, Jory shook his head, gulped his drink and then glared down at his crotch. Unfortunately Brice was right. He was a thin guy with a nerdy look and ugly hair. Shit. He was more than just a loser. He was…

“Gentlemen. If I’m mistaken one of you is Jory Walker?”

The voice alone was enough to force his cock into a solid hard stance, saluting. As Jory lifted his head, staring into what had to be the sexiest pair of chocolate brown eyes, he lost his voice – and his mind. He opened his mouth and nothing, NOTHING, came out.

“Uh, yeah, the frustrated and silent guy is. Why?” Brice asked, mischief lacing his voice.

“Because I need to schedule an appointment to get into his apartment.” Grinning, the black man knelt down on the side of Jory’s lounge.

Jory was not only flabbergasted but now sweating profusely and as a series if intense and very vivid visions about fucking the man hard rolled into the back of his mind, he pressed his hand over his mouth and prayed to God he didn’t look like an idiot. “What? I’m sorry, what did you say?” Did you ask me if I wanted to fuck hard and fast like a fucking dog? What the hell was wrong with him? He moved and instantly his cock swelled so much the muscle wasn’t just pushing hard against his tight yellow swim trunks, the damn thing was actually peeking out from the side.

I so hope you enjoyed…

Kisses   xxx


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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