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One Naughty Holiday — Celia Kyle
Publisher's Note: This book has been previously released with another publisher under the title “BDSFerret.”
Mika is Ferret! Hear him…chitter. Merry Christmas to him! He's ready for some BDSM bottoming action, and the Hair of the Dawg is just the place to find what, and who, he wants.
* * *
EXCERPT
Mika walked in like a predator. I am ferret, hear me chitter. Yeah. Big (little) man on the prowl for some…something. Okay, someone. But no one in particular. Damn it, he was mucking it up already and he hadn't even made it to the club. Turds.
All he'd wanted was a nice holiday quickie, and he couldn't even gather the courage to be cocky. He was the predator for fur's sake! In a town of mostly prairie dogs, he should be the top dog and they the prey. Only, he didn't feel all that top-doggy, more like a bottom dog. Pun intended.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, probably ruining the stylish look his sister had created for him. Too bad. He needed to be comfortable more than stylish and the gel was making him itchy. Mika stared at the club doors, the pulsing bass of the music seeping through the insulated walls, reaching out to him, teasing and tempting.
He wanted to give in, wanted to follow the music anywhere, everywhere. It held promise in its notes -- a promise he intended the music keep.
Mika turned off the car and took one last look in the mirror. His light brown hair with its midnight tips stuck up every which way, as his sister had intended. He couldn't help the unruly locks and they tended to do whatever they pleased, styling products be damned. His eyelashes were much of the same. The coloring of his ferret had always blended into his human form. Even the sky-blue of his human eyes matched his black-footed ferret's.
The only part of him that wasn't very ferrety was his innate desire to give, not take. He was a people pleaser, through and through, instead of the cutthroat predator he was supposed to be. Mika? Predator? Yeah, right. He was a vegetarian for cripe's sake.
With one last calming breath, he opened his car door, the music calling to him, telling him to come in and find what he'd been looking for, desiring for so long. Picking up a guy on the street hadn't worked for Mika in like…ever, so off to Hair of the Dawg he went. At least in a gay club, he wouldn't have to question his gaydar. It seemed to have been broken since birth.
Ten feet now. Ten feet separated Mika from the bouncer, the club's door, and the writhing men on the other side. So close, and his nerves were driving him batty enough to make ten feet seem like ten miles. He could do this. He could walk into the meat market and walk out…with some meat. Okay, ew, not the visual he wanted.
He stood in front of the bouncer, his best “I'm a real man” smile plastered across his face.
“ID?”
Mika fumbled for his wallet, forgetting for a moment that his thirty-five years looked like everyone else's eighteen. Barely. “Here you go. Busy? Wasn't sure how packed it would be since it's Christmas Eve, you know?
Mika is Ferret! Hear him…chitter. Merry Christmas to him! He's ready for some BDSM bottoming action, and the Hair of the Dawg is just the place to find what, and who, he wants.
* * *
EXCERPT
Mika walked in like a predator. I am ferret, hear me chitter. Yeah. Big (little) man on the prowl for some…something. Okay, someone. But no one in particular. Damn it, he was mucking it up already and he hadn't even made it to the club. Turds.
All he'd wanted was a nice holiday quickie, and he couldn't even gather the courage to be cocky. He was the predator for fur's sake! In a town of mostly prairie dogs, he should be the top dog and they the prey. Only, he didn't feel all that top-doggy, more like a bottom dog. Pun intended.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, probably ruining the stylish look his sister had created for him. Too bad. He needed to be comfortable more than stylish and the gel was making him itchy. Mika stared at the club doors, the pulsing bass of the music seeping through the insulated walls, reaching out to him, teasing and tempting.
He wanted to give in, wanted to follow the music anywhere, everywhere. It held promise in its notes -- a promise he intended the music keep.
Mika turned off the car and took one last look in the mirror. His light brown hair with its midnight tips stuck up every which way, as his sister had intended. He couldn't help the unruly locks and they tended to do whatever they pleased, styling products be damned. His eyelashes were much of the same. The coloring of his ferret had always blended into his human form. Even the sky-blue of his human eyes matched his black-footed ferret's.
The only part of him that wasn't very ferrety was his innate desire to give, not take. He was a people pleaser, through and through, instead of the cutthroat predator he was supposed to be. Mika? Predator? Yeah, right. He was a vegetarian for cripe's sake.
With one last calming breath, he opened his car door, the music calling to him, telling him to come in and find what he'd been looking for, desiring for so long. Picking up a guy on the street hadn't worked for Mika in like…ever, so off to Hair of the Dawg he went. At least in a gay club, he wouldn't have to question his gaydar. It seemed to have been broken since birth.
Ten feet now. Ten feet separated Mika from the bouncer, the club's door, and the writhing men on the other side. So close, and his nerves were driving him batty enough to make ten feet seem like ten miles. He could do this. He could walk into the meat market and walk out…with some meat. Okay, ew, not the visual he wanted.
He stood in front of the bouncer, his best “I'm a real man” smile plastered across his face.
“ID?”
Mika fumbled for his wallet, forgetting for a moment that his thirty-five years looked like everyone else's eighteen. Barely. “Here you go. Busy? Wasn't sure how packed it would be since it's Christmas Eve, you know?
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