Feb 12 2017 12:32am
KJ Charles Excerpt: An Unseen Attraction
Lodging-house keeper Clem Talleyfer prefers a quiet life. He’s happy with his hobbies, his work—and especially with his lodger Rowley Green, who becomes a friend over their long fireside evenings together. If only neat, precise, irresistible Mr. Green were interested in more than friendship. . . .
Rowley just wants to be left alone—at least until he meets Clem, with his odd, charming ways and his glorious eyes. Two quiet men, lodging in the same house, coming to an understanding . . . it could be perfect. Then the brutally murdered corpse of another lodger is dumped on their doorstep and their peaceful life is shattered.
Now Clem and Rowley find themselves caught up in a mystery, threatened on all sides by violent men, with a deadly London fog closing in on them. If they’re to see their way through, the pair must learn to share their secrets—and their hearts.
Get a sneak peek at KJ Charles's An Unseen Attraction (available February 21, 2017) with an exclusive excerpt of a selected scene.
Clem swallowed. “Would you—could you let me set the pace for a little while, though, till I get used to it?”
The thought made Rowley’s blood thump. “You may set the pace as long as you like.” He sucked on a fingertip, felt Clem shudder. “And if anything’s wrong or even not quite right, please tell me. And if you do anything that troubles me, I’ll tell you. How’s that?”
“That would be perfect,” Clem said softly. Rowley didn’t release his hand, but lowered his arm, and raised his face, waiting. Clem was still for a moment, those glorious dark amber-brown eyes intent, then he lowered his head and kissed Rowley carefully, almost chastely. Their lips held for a moment, then Clem began to move, little exploring shifts of pressure and pattern, taking his time.
Rowley had never been kissed like this in his life. It felt as though Clem was learning his mouth, applying that dogged determination to get it right, agonisingly slow. It crossed Rowley’s mind that every part of lovemaking with Clem might be this slow, every inch of skin needing to be thoroughly explored and committed to memory. It might take of patient waiting, and blood rushed to his groin so hard at that realisation that his knees almost buckled.
He moved his free hand very, very lightly to Clem’s arse, hovering almost, until Clem nodded, his lips moving against Rowley’s mouth but not losing their connection, and then just let his fingers and palm rest, cupping the curve of firm flesh, feeling the cloth where he’d have liked bare skin, but feeling other things too: Clem’s concentration; his own arousal, pressing hard against Rowley’s where their bodies met; the tentative probe of Clem’s tongue. He opened his mouth but kept his stillness. He could wait for this, he could wait forever, or near as damn it, for this—
“Thief!” The outraged bellow came from upstairs. “Stop, thief! I’ve been robbed!”
Copyright © 2017 by KJ Charles.
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K. J. Charles is a writer and freelance editor. She lives in London with her husband, two kids, an out-of-control garden, and an increasingly murderous cat.