Thursday, November 6, 2014

#Excerpt from NAKED TRUTH : Saving Liam @DPDenman #LGBT #AmReading #Contemporary

It was non-stop at Spark, the only male strip club in Vancouver. Liam strode into the side of the building reserved for their female customers so he could mingle with the people he spent all his time entertaining. Gay men packed the other side, doing the same thing the women did. They drank, hooted and shouted at each other over the music. He left those customers to the dancers who could walk through the crowd without having a panic attack.

He made it about three steps into the tangle of bodies before the girl in black found him. He was right. The dark motif continued all the way to her feet broken up by patches of pale skin. A leather sleeveless crop top left her torso exposed. A pleated mini skirt rode low on slender hips obscuring half a star-shaped tattoo on her stomach. He didn’t have time to see the rest before she pressed against him, an arm draped around his neck.

“Hi.” She smiled inches away, her skin warm against his.

“Hi. What’s your name?” He asked, too startled to think of anything else to say.

“Kandi with a ‘k’.”

“Nice name. I’m Damon.”

“I know. I asked. They said you do private dances.”

“That’s right and I bet you’d like one wouldn’t you?” He wrapped an arm loosely around her waist because standing there with his hands at his sides made him feel like an idiot.

“A lot. How private are they?”

“Not that private.”

“Can we do one that is?” She dragged a finger down his chest.

“Sorry. It’s the VIP room or nothing.”

“Fine.” She sighed and slid from him. “Show me.”

He took her hand and led her through the crowd to the far side of the building and down a narrow hall to a quieter, less flashy room. A padded bench flowed in waves along the walls creating shallow booths. It gave the illusion of minimal privacy where there wasn't any, certainly not with the dome cameras in the ceiling.

Kandi walked to a spot at the far end of the room and flopped onto the seat, sliding down until he thought she would slip onto the floor. She stopped with her ass at the edge of the plush fabric and crossed long legs covered in knee-high black boots to flash him a slice of pale cheek.

He toed off his shoes and moved to the music that flowed into the room at a reduced volume. Her gaze traveled his body following the progression of his zipper in silence before he pushed his jeans down his hips. They were all the same. Very few women wanted conversation. They wanted to watch. He didn’t mind. Being gawked at was the job. So were wrestling matches with the ones who wanted a grope to go with the show.

He ran hands along his body caressing himself in an imitation of what he knew Kandi wanted to do to him, ghosting fingers across the pouch at the front of his thong. If she was like most women, she wanted to grab his ass at least as much as his dick, but he made it a point never to simulate that. He didn't want to encourage them to take another gouge out of his ass with those manicured claws they wore even if Justin was happy to kiss his wounds at the end of the night.


Buried lies never die.

Liam has a new career, a new condo, a newfound sense of control and none of it is quite right. Shadows drift behind the bright sparkle of his life; things he's determined to ignore until a shocking revelation makes it impossible. With the help of Justin and a new friend, Liam must face the life he's buried.

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Genre - Contemporary Gay Romance
Rating – R
More details about the author
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