Men for Hire 2

By Tatum Throne, Bella Settarra, Dylan McEwan and Helen J. Perry

An anthology of four delicious, erotic gay stories, each beautifully crafted for your enjoyment.

Subcontractor by Tatum Throne

Three's a Crowd...? by Bella Settarra

Wyndersham Heights by Dylan McEwan

Four Days' Work by Helen J. Perry

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Jan 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781910899601

Tatum Throne

Tatum Throne lives in Cincinnati with her real life hero, Mr. Throne.She has a master’s degree in social work that she received from the University of Cincinnati. She left the field of medical social work in 2007 to be a stay-at-home mom of three rowdy boys, and to pursue her dreams of writing romance.When not indulging her fantasies or writing, Tatum enjoys heading to the beach to build sandcastles with her boys, hiking in Red River Gorge, and spreading awareness of eosinophilic disorders.

Book preview

MEN FOR HIRE 2

ANTHOLOGY

TATUM THRONE

BELLA SETTARRA

DYLAN McEWAN

HELEN J. PERRY

booklogo

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Foreword

Subcontractor

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Three’a A Crowd…?

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Wyndersham Heights

Dedication

The Demi-God with a Tool Belt

Another Notch on the Bedpost

Laying Ghosts and Getting Laid!

Four Days’ Work

Part 1 - Monday Morning

Part 2 - Tuesday Morning

Part 3 - Tuesday Afternoon

About the Authors

Tatum Throne

Bella Settarra

Dylan McEwan

Helen J. Perry

End Credits

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

MEN FOR HIRE 2

Copyright © January 2016

Subcontractor © Tatum Throne

Three’s a Crowd…? © Bella Settarra

Wyndersham Heights © Dylan McEwan

Four Days’ Work © Helen J. Perry

ISBN: 978-1-910899-60-1

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

The authors acknowledge the trademark status and the following trademark owners mentioned in this work of fiction:

Google

Diesel

Meccano

Lego

Foreword

By Jennifer Denys

About two or three years ago I came up with the idea of a story about a firm hiring out men for any number of reasons—from house repairs, chauffeuring, dog-walking, house sitting, working on cars, assisting writers, to a model for someone who knits jumpers—and put it in my folder of ideas. Then I suddenly thought it would make a great anthology and put the suggestion to Luminosity Publishing, offering to coordinate any submissions. They loved the idea and so the Men for Hire anthology was born.

The first Men for Hire anthology—four MF and MF/ ménage stories—was published last September to great reviews and I am delighted to coordinate a second anthology, these ones MM and MM/ ménage by some terrific authors. Assertive Doms, sexy mechanics, hunky labourers and gorgeous carpenters—what more can you ask for? I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

Subcontractor

Tatum Throne

Dedication

Much love to the Throne boys!

Chapter One

You’re fired.

The blow hit Owen Murray hard in the gut. He stared at Jennifer, the owner of Men for Hire. He suddenly had some choice words for her, but he held back. He had thought they were friends. What had happened for her to want to fire him? Excuse me?

She put her hands on the desk, leaning in for emphasis. I said you’re fired. You’ll never work in this town again.

Her British accent struck a nerve. Owen wasn’t a Brit. In fact, he was a transplant from across the pond. A cowboy from the Midwest with an attitude problem in her words. Owen rolled his shoulders out. He stared her down. What? Why?

We’ve had too many complaints about you. I can’t risk the reputation of my business any longer. I have to let you go.

Owen laughed. Because they think they’re calling for a hookup and I’ve had to tell all my female clients no. Sex isn’t part of fixing something in their flat.

She crossed her arms. She looked like a spoiled cat who had their milk spilt. I’m not selling sex to any of my clients.

Bingo. Owen had heard she was in the business of playing matchmaker. It bothered him to no end. He didn’t like anyone fixing him up. I’m gay. So, I think you firing me is a good thing. I’m tired of you trying to set me up with all your female clients.

She gasped, opened and closed her mouth several times. I—

"Don’t worry. I’m out of here, princess."

Just a minute. How dare you—

Owen slammed his keys to the utility building on her polished mahogany desk, scratching the surface. Jennifer’s eyes went wide. She looked wounded and a bit hurt but Owen in the moment didn’t care. She was the one firing him. He took his baseball cap from his back pocket and adjusted it low on his head. He headed out of her office. Don’t worry. You’ll never hear from me again.

Owen paused at the door. A word of advice. Your business has gotten a bit of a reputation in town. You may want to reconsider how you advertise your services.

Jennifer gasped, lifting a shaky hand to her parted lips. How dare you say that to me? My reputation is being ruined by you!

Owen shook his head. After six months of loyal work, she was the one firing him because of her bad reputation and fledging business. I doubt that very much.

He shut the door quietly behind him when all he wanted to do was slam it so that the bolts shot out like bullets. He took a steadying breath when he reached the sidewalk. He could feel her watching from the window. He didn’t have to look to know. She was probably on the phone already putting damage control into place. She was just that way.

Business first above loyalty any day. It was all about control and as a Dom, he was the one who liked to be in control of what happened in his life. With that being said, he needed to head out to pick up his tools from the job site. He was certain that Jennifer would call in reinforcements to take over this contract work, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. He’d subcontract the work if he had to.

* * * *

As he watched from the kitchen window, Peter Crawford’s racing heart started to plummet as he saw another vehicle pull up in front of his country home just outside of Windsor. He had expected the work truck that Owen always drove. Instead, it was Owen getting out of what looked like his personal vehicle. At the sight of the long-limbed muscular man, Peter’s heart started to sprint from the fact that the man he so desperately wanted to see was finally there. It felt so good to finally have him home.

Home?

The word brought him up short. He did consider this home and had secretly hoped that one day Owen would too. In fact, he’d been purposely orchestrating the renovations to the man’s tastes, which wasn’t easy considering he was an American transplant via the wild west of Wyoming.

The look on Owen’s face snapped him out of his daydreaming. Something was wrong. Really wrong. His dark brows were furrowed. His even darker black hair was messed from the wind and what probably was his hand running through it in frustration. Usually, Peter hung back, waiting for Owen to ring the bell before he opened the door. Not today. Peter’s long strides took him to the door. There was a crisp chill in the air and rain clouds stacked in the August sky. It was often this way in England and even more so in the country.

Owen?

Pain raced through the male’s eyes. Morning, Peter. Can we talk?

Sure. Come on in out of the chill.

Nervous energy had Peter running his hands over his trousers. He purposely had chosen the wool knit sweater he’d seen on the runway to impress Owen. Now, he wasn’t even certain he noticed. Birds cawed in the distance. Peter was suddenly hyper aware of remembering to breathe. He watched as Owen moved around the spacious living room, running his hand along the wood mantel he’d built by hand. After several long, tense seconds, he turned and their eyes locked.

I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m going to have to grab my tools and leave. I can’t finish your renovation.

The air felt as though it had been sucked from the room. I only want you to do it. You need to stay.

I can’t. I’ve been fired.

Then I’m canceling my business with Jennifer, and you’ll stay here to do the renovation work.

Owen frowned. You can do that? I figured you were under contract.

Peter smiled. I can do whatever I want. I never signed anything.

With that thought in mind, Peter went to the phone and rang Jennifer’s personal line. Big surprise it wasn’t engaged, and she didn’t answer. Her voicemail came on. Good evening, Jennifer. This is Peter. I wanted to let you know that I won’t be needing your services any longer. While I’ve liked working with your company, I no longer need the anymore renovations. Cheers.

That’s it?

Peter’s heart was racing again as he set down the phone. Well … I guess you need to get to work.

There was something in Owen’s eyes that made Peter’s heart skip a vital beat. He’d never seen that dangerous look in his gaze before. Peter didn’t consider himself intimidated by anyone, but when Owen stared at him with heat in his eyes, it did something to him.

Owen came in close. I’ll finish this job but next time ask me before assuming.

You don’t seem like the type of man who would run out on me.

Owen’s gaze studied him hard. No, I’m not.

Then he walked away, heading over to the study where he’d left his tools and equipment the night before. As he got to work, Peter listened to the sounds of him using his power saw outside, followed by hammering in the study.

After several long hours of secretly listening to his every move, Peter went to the hallway to look inside at his work. He made tea and a snack for Owen. Over the last few weeks, he’d made him tea and always waited for Owen to take the next step.

He stood within the doorway, looking at him. Owen had rolled up his sleeves on his flannel shirt, exposing well-muscled arms. That same dark hair smoothed over them. From the opening in his shirt, Peter could see more chest hair. Owen had a pencil in his mouth as he bent over the plans. He tucked it behind his ear when he spotted him at the door.

I’ve brought you some tea. Do you need anything else? Peter asked.

That look was in his eyes—smoldering, sexy, confident. God, he was in love with this man. The realization brought him up short.

Thank you. Their fingers brushed as he handed him the cup. Their eyes locked and time spun out. I think I could get used to this.

I think I love the idea of you being here with me.

Annoyed with himself for being so needy, Peter decided to stay away from him. He wasn’t even sure if the man was gay. He started to turn but was stopped by Owen’s voice.

I could use your help holding the cabinet in place while I drill the screws in. It’s really a two-man job.

Sure.

As Owen lifted the cabinet into place, Peter crossed the room. Hold it right here like this and don’t move.

It wasn’t heavy at all. Peter used his arms to hold it as Owen came in from behind with his power drill. The feel of his body heat scorched Peter’s back, thighs, and ass as Owen came in close, lifting his arms