Mad About the Boys

By Cutler E.C., Hollis Queens, Vanessa de Sade and 2 more

Five sensually seductive tales of guy-on-guy action...


Just My Luck - E.C. Cutler
Ash isn’t a gambling man, but a night at the casino might persuade him otherwise. And when his gorgeous best friend Danny makes a request to find out what sex with another man is like, Ash sees his luck changing for good.


About Face - Hollis Queens
Remembering his uncle and his watch, he makes the decision to come out to his family.


Tell Me a Secret - Vanessa de Sade
Grimm has a sexy secret, and it might just involve his hot room-mate Joel…


Deluded - Sam Thorne
It shouldn't take a crisis to make you realise what you really want, but on the night Max intervenes in a bashing, he finds that the bond between him and his forthright buddy Jay is stronger than he'd ever thought.


Missionary Disposition - Dale Cameron Lowry
Two young men bound for Mormon missions decide to have one final hurrah before turning their lives over to the control of their church for two years. They meet up in the U.S. state of Colorado for ten days of camping and sex, then head to opposite sides of the world. But the enforced chastity of their missions can't make them forget their nights of passion, and when they return home, each is eager to show the other how sorely he was missed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Apr 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781785384646

Book preview

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Just My Luck

E.C. Cutler

Ash isn’t a gambling man, but a night at the casino might persuade him otherwise. And when his gorgeous best friend Danny makes a request to find out what sex with another man is like, Ash sees his luck changing for good.

What do you reckon, Ash? Danny said. Time to call it a night?

I looked at the pile of chips on the table before me, weighing up my options. I could walk away with my winnings now, or I could risk everything on one last spin of the wheel. I’d never considered myself an all or nothing kind of guy, but that was before I’d sat down for this game of roulette.

Coming to the casino had been Danny’s idea. I think he fancied living out some kind of James Bond fantasy. He’d certainly dressed the part, in a neat black suit, white shirt and with a bow tie around his neck. The ends of that tie now hung loose and he’d popped open the top button of his shirt. With his blond hair tousled and a Martini glass in his hand, he looked almost unbearably sexy, though I wasn’t about to tell him that. We’d been best friends for six years now, ever since we’d first started working together, and in all that time I’d done everything to keep my crush on him well hidden.

"Monsieur?" The croupier looked at me, waiting for my decision. When I’d first started playing, I’d thought he was putting on the accent for effect, but it turned out he actually was French. He’d quickly realised I was a roulette virgin, and outlined the various options to me before the first spin. He hadn’t advised me wrongly yet, and I was coming to regard the guy as my lucky charm.

I wouldn’t consider myself a gambling man, apart from buying the odd Lottery scratch card at a petrol station and my yearly flutter on the Grand National. I’d certainly never been anywhere like this, with its thick carpeting, hostesses in long evening dresses split to the thigh and air of quiet elegance. Even the slot machines seemed muted, unlike the noisy, flashing one-armed bandits I remembered from seaside amusement arcades.

I’d arrived at the table with twenty quid’s worth of chips. In a few spins, I’d amassed close to a thousand pounds. A good night’s work by anyone’s reckoning. There’d be no shame in leaving now, but I had the feeling my hot streak hadn’t quite come to an end.

I drained the last of my whiskey and soda. Pushing the stack of chips forward, I said, Everything on twenty-two.

Beside me, Danny hissed in a breath. Inwardly, I was sure he’d be calling me a stupid son of a bitch, and I couldn’t blame him.

Very good. Now, ladies and gentlemen, no more bets, please. With that, the croupier dropped the ball into the roulette wheel. It made swift, clattering progress, bouncing from one slot to another. I closed my eyes, unable to look. For the first time, doubts assailed me. Had I just chucked away enough money to fix the dodgy exhaust on my motorbike and pay for a week’s island-hopping in Greece?

All or nothing, I reminded myself.

The wheel slowed. I heard the ball rattle a couple more times, then come to a halt. Everything went silent.

Fuck me, Danny muttered, low enough that only I heard him.

I risked opening one eye. Couldn’t believe what I saw.

Twenty-two wins it, the croupier announced. He added what seemed like a ludicrous amount of chips to my pile, then pushed them back towards me.

For one moment, I seriously thought about placing another bet. Then reason hit. Whatever you’re doing, you have to know when to stop. I scooped up the chips, stuffing them into my pockets to make carrying them all easier. Come on, Danny, let’s go cash these in.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the back of a black cab, trying not to get excited over the fact I’d walked out of the casino with the best part of thirty-five grand in winnings. Away from the tense, adrenalin-laden arena of the roulette table, I was beginning to realise just what a massive risk I’d taken.

That is possibly the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life, I said, pushing my hair back from my face. I honestly didn’t realise the odds on a single number were so big.

And you know the best thing about it? Danny said. It’s all tax free.

Seriously? If this was a movie, I’d probably have pulled fistfuls of twenty-pound notes out of my pocket and thrown them in the air, but the casino had insisted on paying me by cheque. Safer, I supposed, but not half so glamorous. Christ, mate, tonight just gets better.

Up ahead, the off-licence at the end of my street came into view.

If you could take the next right here, please, driver, and then I’m about two hundred yards along on your left. Even though all London cabbies pride themselves on their knowledge of the road network, I still can’t help giving them directions once I get close to home.

A couple of doors down from my house, building works were going on. The driver pulled the car up to the kerb, slotting into the space between a half-filled skip and the neighbours’ shiny black four by four. He switched the light on, letting me check the total on the meter. I dug into my wallet and pulled out my last twenty-pound note.

Keep the change, I told him.

You flash git, Danny grumbled good-naturedly as he followed me out of the cab.

I wasn’t quite sure how we’d arrived at the decision to come back to my place. Danny hadn’t said as much, but I suspected he was having trouble with his girlfriend again. He’d tried to break up with her a couple of times but he always kept going back. Part of me wished I could inspire the same kind of loyalty in someone, but the last thing I wanted to do right now was sit down and discuss my lack of love life. I was still stoked by my win and I wanted to party.

Inside the house, I told Danny to make himself comfortable in the living room while I went to get lagers from the fridge. I cracked open a couple of bottles of Peroni. When I took them through to Danny, he’d kicked his shoes off and was lounging on