His Song

By J.M. Snyder

Dane is destined for greatness, his boyfriend Krish just knows it, but first he needs to break into the local music scene. When local musician Randy Blake asks Dane to stop by for a private jam session, Dane is ecstatic. But it seems Blake has something other than music on his mind. Krish doesn't trust Blake, but a more pressing question, though, is can he trust Dane?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Jun 23, 2010
• ISBN: 9781935753407

J.M. Snyder

An author of gay erotic romance, J.M. Snyder began self-publishing gay erotic fiction in 2002. Since then, Snyder has worked with several e-publishers, most notably Amber Allure Press and eXcessica Publishing.Snyder’s short fiction has appeared online at Ruthie’s Club, Tit-Elation, Eros Monthly, and Amazon Shorts, as well as in anthologies released by Alyson Books, Cleis Press, and others.For more book excerpts, free fiction, and purchasing information, please visit http://jmsnyder.net.

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His Song

By J.M. Snyder

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2010 J.M. Snyder

ISBN: 9781935753407

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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His Song

By J.M. Snyder

Part 1

The things I put up with, Krish Rajendra thinks, glancing around the darkened coffeehouse. The crowd’s his age but this was never his scene—art students with multi-colored hair, poets in dark jeans and black turtlenecks, aspiring writers chatting about Kerouac and Ginsberg over cappuccinos. Give him a sports bar any day, Monday night football on the tube, Aerosmith on the jukebox, beer sloshing out of cold mugs and peanuts on the floor. None of this candlelight shit, or the heavy scent of espresso that hangs like rain in the air, or the Bob Dylan wanna-bes up on the small stage, taking turns on the open mike with their acoustic guitars and whiney songs. Why is he here again?

Dane.

Krish lets his gaze wander around the room until he sees Jude Danelian, twenty-three and his lover of two years. He’s the reason they’re at the Dharma tonight—Randy Blake will be there, Dane said earlier, when he broached the subject of coming downtown. He sat on the arm of the sofa and leaned onto Krish in that way he has that gets him anything he wants. His body pressed along Krish’s side, his arm draped around Krish’s shoulders, his fingers toying in the short, dark hair at the nape of Krish’s neck. Come on, he cajoled. One night, what’ll it hurt? I don’t want to go alone.

We don’t have to go at all, Krish replied. There’s a game on tonight. He slipped his arms around his lover’s waist and pulled him into his lap. Dane’s tall, slim, almost bony, and when Krish holds him tight, he’s afraid he’ll snap the boy in two. He was captain of the basketball team back in high school, made it through college on an athletic scholarship, and never even talked to an art student until the year after he graduated, when he ran into Dane at the grocery store where the boy worked.

Literally—backed his pickup into Dane’s bicycle; he never did get the hang of reverse. When Dane came out, Krish was already dusting off the bike, thinking maybe no one would notice the bent rims? They weren’t that bad, a little hammering should pop them right back into shape…

Then he looked up and saw that light brown hair, streaked with blond and falling like a curtain in front of Dane’s face, one length to his chin. He had an endearing habit of flipping it out of the way as he talked, and Krish was lost. He insisted on taking Dane out to dinner—his parents owned a small Indian restaurant not far from his apartment, it was the least he could do, give the boy a warm meal and fix up his bike, and by the end of the week they were inseparable. Two years later and all Dane had to do was rub along the sensitive skin behind his ear, stare at him with those puppy-dog eyes, give him a slight pout, and damn. So much for the game.

Now he watches Dane, waiting at the bar for their drinks. The girl at the espresso machine says something that makes him laugh—he ducks his head and his hair falls in front of his face, Krish loves how it does that. Despite the distance and the crowd, he thinks he can hear that laugh, rich and soft like freshly turned soil. When the girl hands Dane one of the drinks, she says something else, smiles coyly, holds the mug even after he takes it. Dull jealousy curls through Krish, an angry ache that makes his head hurt. Hands off, babe, he thinks, narrowing his eyes. That’s my boy so you best just settle down now, you hear?

Dane laughs again—he doesn’t even realize she’s flirting with him; he’s oblivious when it comes to stuff like that. The first time Krish smoothed that hair back from his brow, leaned over him and whispered that he was the sexiest boy he’d ever seen, Dane blushed so fiercely, Krish thought he might spontaneously combust. I’m not that pretty, he said. Since then Krish makes sure to use his lips, his tongue, his hands, anything he