Book Title: Jamison: A Maxim Novel
Author: A.N. Waugh
Cover Artist: Midnight Designs
Release Date: June 7, 2022
Genre: Contemporary MM Romance
Tropes: Friends to lovers, second chance romance, rockstar
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: approx 45 000 words
It is book one in a new series. It does not end on a cliffhanger for the couple, but there are some unresolved conflicts that will reappear later in the series.
“Hey, you should come out with me tonight. I know this great club.” Klaus interrupts my thoughts about working with one of the biggest and most well-known record labels.
“Sure, why not?” I agree. I need to make friends and Klaus, with his big personality and flashy attire, seems to be the most welcoming. Besides, I should get to know the man if we are going to be working together for the next few months. What can it hurt? He’s harmless, right?
A few hours later, I’ve resigned myself to the knowledge that Klaus is anything but harmless as he drags me inside a crowded club. Every head turns in our direction, and while I’m not ashamed to be seen with him, it means I garner just as much attention for being at his side. The tight leather pants and black see-through top he’s wearing leave nothing to the imagination. Every man and woman we pass can clearly see the size of his package and the piercings in his nipples. I look and feel out of place in comparison with my jeans and an old Nirvana t-shirt.
When we reach the bar, Klaus orders a couple of shots and some fruity concoction for the two of us. I look around, taking in all the people. My eyes drift across the club, over the dance floor, and up to the second floor.
A glass wall surrounds a balcony sitting area where the VIPs avoid the crowd of commoners literally beneath them. Sitting at a table in the corner is a face I would recognize anywhere, even at a distance. I blink and he’s gone. Did I imagine it?
Klaus hands me a shot and I toss it back, letting the burn that slides down my throat bring me back to reality and the here and now.
“Here.” He hands me one of the fruity drinks. “Let’s dance.”
Maxim’s latest hit plays over the sound system and the buzz of alcohol and the steady beat of the music flow through me. The sexy, gravelly voice of Maxim’s lead singer lulls me into a sexually charged state. I close my eyes and let the rhythm take over, my body swaying in a dance learned years ago.
Jamison Black’s voice has seduced me, consoled me, and left me wanting since I was a teen. His rockstar looks: long dark hair and ice-blue eyes lined with kohl stirred my libido before I fully understood my attraction to men. Late night fantasies of his talented mouth on my skin, fantasies that still claim me when I’ve gone too long without release, flash through my mind.
The DJ switches songs, and my Jamison-induced spell is broken. I open my eyes and take in the club. Klaus, in all his flamboyant splendor, is dancing between two well-dressed men, probably corporate businessmen here to unwind. Too bad Klaus has set his sights on them.
I laugh and move from the dance floor to the bar for another drink. My inhibitions slowly drift away as the warm and sensual caress of alcohol unfurls in my veins. I glimpse myself in the mirror behind the bar. My cheeks are pink with the heat that permeates my body, and my hair is a ruffled mess from dancing.
The bartender hands me another of the fruity drinks Klaus had ordered earlier.
“Damn. That’s too bad. I’d hoped to make it over in time to buy you a drink.” A man that screams sleazy Hollywood moves to stand next to me. “I’m Chad. I hope I’m not being too forward, but are you here alone?”
“Uh,” I stall, searching the crowd for Klaus. “I’m here with—”
“There you are. I thought I’d lost you out there.”
The rich, melodic voice comes from behind and I close my eyes as an arm wraps around my waist, fingers gripping my hip.
“My apologies.” Chad sounds more annoyed than apologetic about the newcomer’s intrusion.
“No problem.” I can practically hear the forced politeness in his voice and open my eyes to tell Chad that I am not here with anyone but a friend. But he has since moved on to another target farther down the line of people at the bar.
Breathing deeply, I step away until the man’s arm at my back falls away, then turn to face a blast from my past. A sexy as fuck blast from the past.
About the Author
A.N. Waugh is an author of MM/MMM+ romances, a pansexual mess, and a firm believer that love is love.
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