Sneak Peak Sunday is a blog hop where authors share a snippet of a book or work in progress. More snippets can be found by checking out twitter tag #sneakpeeksunday.

This week, I’m sharing a snippet from a soon-to-be-released Spring Fling short story Slow Waltz (coming May 7th from Loose Id). It continues the adventures of Rhys and Silas from Close Quarter. Here’s the blurb:

New lovers Rhys Matherton and Silas Quint finally have a chance to breath easy and enjoy a well-earned respite on board a transatlantic cruise to New York City. But the lack of danger gives Rhys too time to think about the enormity of falling in love with a man who isn’t human. He’s not sure love at first sight can last, especially when your lover is fae. Sure, the sex is fantastic, but that’s not enough to hang the rest of your potentially immortal life upon.

To distract himself, Rhys suggests he and Silas take a set of lessons to learn to waltz. The plan backfires when they are paired with two older women—one of whom reminds Rhys of his recently deceased mother. Instead of being able to ignore thinking about his future with Silas, he’s actively questioned about his lover. And it seems the whole boat knows who he’s sleeping with.

As Rhys learns the steps of waltz, he has to decide if he’ll continue to dance around what he feels for Silas or if he’ll finally learn to trust in his partner’s love for him.

In this snippet, Rhys is showing Silas just how well he’s learned to dance:

“You’ve learned well.” Silas’s voice was deep and breathless.

Rhys nipped his ear. “Did you expect less?”

“Never.” Silas stopped moving and opened a little space between them. He unbuttoned the top of Rhys’s shirt. “But I want more.”

So did Rhys. As with the waltz, he mirrored Silas’s movements, undressing Silas even as he was being undressed, kissing and licking at Silas’s flesh. His neck, his chest. While massaging Silas’s hard cock through his pants, Rhys caught one of Silas’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a not so gentle squeeze.

Silas inhaled a hiss, then unbuttoned and unzipped Rhys’s jeans. “Turn around.” He spoke the command into Rhys’s ear, punctuating it with a nip.

Rhys did as told, prickles of anticipation raising bumps on his bare skin. He had some idea of what Silas intended, but exactly how—that was always interesting.