Cover & Excerpt Reveal & Giveaway: UP IN FLAMES by Eden Finley & Saxon James
UP IN FLAMES
Cover Design: Eden Finley
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
Model: Valerio
Genre: M/M Firefighter Romance Standalone
Trope: Groom's best friend, hurt/comfort
SANDEN
Yeah, well, I never said I was smart.
I might … accidentally, maybe on purpose, suggest to Remy that the best form of revenge is to have a party anyway. I mean, he’s already got catering, a DJ, and guests, so what better time to throw a petty party?
My loser high school friend never deserved him anyway. If I’d had the chance, I would have locked Remy down years ago.
Only, when the party leads to a drunken kiss, going on their honeymoon, and sharing their marital bed, I have to say, I’m not entirely sad that their wedding went up in flames.
SANDEN
For Remy’s sake, I’m trying to keep the grin off my face, but it’s really, really hard. Like his dick.
Well, it was hard. I think it’s shriveled up from embarrassment, though from the brief glance I got, he has nothing to be embarrassed about.
“I can see your smirk,” he rumbles in a raspy voice.
“Come on, babe. We’re newlyweds. Perfectly normal to get turned on by your husband.” I run my hands down his abs, and he whines when his cock twitches. The towel really doesn’t hide anything.
“It’s official. After this, I’m going to go drown myself.”
“That doesn’t sound like a fun honeymoon activity. We could go back to our room and put this massage to good use.”
Remy closes his eyes. “I hate you.”
I chuckle, but the massage therapist with us is glancing between the two of us like she doesn’t understand our relationship. If I’m honest, neither do I at this point.
We went from being flirty acquaintances to him dating my friend, where I put a huge wall between us, to what we are now … heartbroken man going through a breakup and the clown who’s here to cheer him up? Fake husbands on a gorgeous island? Two friends who turn each other on with massages? Because not going to lie, knowing I’m turning him on from touching him is also making me horny as fuck.
Remy has his eyes closed but a smile on his face. “It’s your turn next.”
“I’m not ashamed of my body’s way of showing love.”
Remy covers his face with one hand.
“Sorry about my husband,” I say to the attendant. “He thinks our love is shameful. Poor thing grew up in an orphanage and never knew what true love was until me. He still thinks he’s undeserving, and I have to shake him and scream, ‘You deserve all my love, my love!’”
Remy’s trying not to laugh at my complete bullshit.
I almost dare the massage therapist to call me on my made-up story, but she’s more professional than that.
She places a gentle hand on Remy’s arm. “You do deserve love. I want to do an exercise with you. Breathe in for three seconds, hold all those negative thoughts for another three, and then let it all out as you release your breath.”
Oh great. I accidentally made Remy do airy-fairy meditation crap. Though, he doesn’t seem to mind.
He does as she says, and they breathe together while she points for me to start working on Remy’s feet.
All I can say is he’s lucky he was left at the altar because I’d normally draw the line at feet. Yet, when I start massaging near his heel and work my way up to the arch that never hits the ground, the moan that leaves him is anything but whiney. I’d totally give him a foot massage every day if it makes that noise come out of him.
Before I know it, the massage therapist says Remy’s done, and when he sits up, he looks drunk. Relaxed. Happy.
“Ready for your turn?”
I wish I could say I hate the challenge in his tone and the glint in his eye, but I don’t. I reach back and pull off my shirt. “Born ready, baby.”
I strip down in front of the massage therapist because I still have my underwear on, so it’s not a big deal to me, but she says, “I can leave if you need to—”
“As you can see,” Remy says, “my husband is completely shameless.”
“With a body like mine, it should be shared.” I throw myself on the massage table and put my face in the hole, all the while telling myself to think of dead puppies or kittens or anything else that will keep me somewhat calm.
Remy stays in only his underwear, which surprises me, but not as much as when he walks around me, trailing his fingers up my back, and then leans in close to my ear and whispers, “So you know, payback’s a bitch.” And that’s when I know I fucked up.
He starts by standing near my head, but instead of massaging my temples or running his hands through my hair, he leans over me and kneads above my ass. He’s practically lying on top of me, his dick and balls right there on my head.
I laugh, but fuck, his cock hardens at the friction.
He’s right. Payback is a bitch.
Eden Finley
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She doesn't take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart.
With a short attention span that rivals her son's, she writes multiple different pairings: MM, MMF, and MF.
She's also an Australian girl and apologises for her Australianisms that sometimes don't make sense to anyone else.
Saxon James
Website | Newsletter | Facebook | FB Reader Group | Twitter | Instagram
Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters.
While not writing, SM is a readaholic and Netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee.
Member of SCBWI.
One of Five eARC's for Up in Flames
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