Blog Tour Stop, Excerpt & Contest: Wallflower by Heidi Belleau

Hello hello! I’m Heidi Belleau, and all week I’m touring the interwebs promoting my new novel Wallflower, which is book two of my New Adult m/m series Rear Entrance Video, all about a group of roommates working at a seedy porn store. Every day this week I’ll be stopping by different blogs with new tidbits, behind-the-scenes info, and of course a contest! Read on!

Today, an exclusive, sexy excerpt from the book! (Adult Excerpt: Please make sure you are of legal age in your country before reading.)

Sure, Rob had been kissed before. He wasn’t that much of a loser. But oh, he’d sure as hell never been kissed like this.

Dylan hadn’t been expecting the kiss, but he wasn’t startled by it for long. He sprang into action, grabbing Rob by the shoulders and spinning them both until Rob’s back slammed against the bare white wall. Kissing him all the while, little gasps for breath sounding out of the corners of their lips as they collided and broke apart.

“Hope to hell you know what you’re doing,” Dylan growled, boxing Rob in with his body, looming over him, overpowering him, taking over his senses in an assault a thousand times more powerful than Warhol’s Marilyns.

“I’m a big boy,” Rob gasped back, staring hard into Dylan’s narrowed eyes, daring him to call Rob puny now. “I think I know what I’m getting into.”

No more talking. Dylan lunged forward and covered Rob’s mouth with his own. Tightened his grip on Rob’s shoulders the deeper his tongue got into Rob’s mouth. Behind his eyelids, Rob’s world erupted into neon colors, pink and teal and orange and yellow, a riot of sensation too powerful to process.

Teeth on his lower lip. Dry lips sticking to his own.

Tongue sweeping across his tongue. Breath puffing against his skin. A hand cupping his cheek.

A hand cupping his cheek, tilting his face upward, gently posing him like a doll. Two sides of the same masculine power—forceful strength and sweet tenderness—and Rob was captured, helpless, at the chaotic center point where they crashed together. If this kiss and this meeting were a whirlpool, then he wanted to drown in it. If they were a tornado, then he wanted to be carried away forever.

“Hey! You two!”

The vacuum they were in exploded open, the outside world rushing back toward them and carrying a security guard with it. He was waving a nightstick that he clearly didn’t intend to hit anybody with, not remotely threatening or imposing, but Rob still wilted with embarrassment, half back to his senses. Dylan’s kissed-red mouth just broke out in a big grin.

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you,” the guard shouted once they were both looking, and for some Godforsaken reason, Rob gaped in the opposite direction, as if there were another pair of horny dudes just behind them rutting against the collection’s Lichtenstein. When he turned back to the guard again, he was stopped a few feet away, still shaking that nightstick like an ornery old man with a cane. “Yeah, you two! Not in here, you hear me? Now get!”

“Fascist!” Dylan yelled back, but he was laughing, and he grabbed Rob’s hand. Tugged on it insistently as Rob stooped to pick up his fallen notebook and stuff it into his bag. He’d sacrifice the pen, wherever it was. And then he was up and they were running, dodging through the maze of white walls past a neon blur, back toward the red fire escape sign. Rob had a second or so to think how it could easily be a piece of art in this exhibit, with its hard industrial lines and bright geometry altered by its new context, and then the security guard yelled, “Not through there!” and Dylan pushed the bar anyway, and they fell together into the frigid, rainy alley to the high, aggressive chirp of the fire alarm.

The rain drenched them both in seconds, Rob’s hair plastered to his face, and he thought that would be it for them, but Dylan grabbed him again and shoved him under a steel overhang where he was half sheltered from the rain and kissed him again. He wished he could say the kiss warmed him up, but it didn’t; he shivered against Dylan’s body, trying to find the slivers of warmth that could still penetrate the heavy ice- cold fabric of Dylan’s soaking wet sweatshirt. No luck there. He let Dylan’s hot breath warm his mouth instead.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d never been kicked out of anywhere, unless you counted temporary bans from 4chan. He’d definitely never kissed a guy in public, and in a filthy back alley at that. It took that romantic cliché of kissing in the rain and twisted it sideways into a bizarre mirror-world version, and Rob couldn’t get enough of it.

He bucked against Dylan’s big body, let out little moaning yips into Dylan’s mouth. But as much as he squirmed, as hard as he pressed himself forward, Dylan’s hands stayed above the waist, massaging Rob’s shoulders or stroking his neck or combing through his wet hair.

Enough of this shit. Rob reached up, caught Dylan’s right hand in his left one, and guided it down where it needed to go.

Dylan let himself be posed, but once his palm was cupping Rob’s cock, it didn’t squeeze or rub, it just held still, frozen in more than one way. Dylan pulled out of their kiss and stared down into Rob’s eyes as both their panting breaths erupted in white gusts between them. “You sure about this?” Dylan asked, voice steady, but Rob could hear the harsh need there too, suppressed but present.

“Yeah. As long as you are.”

A gentle squeeze, then, as Dylan massaged Rob’s aching shaft through the tight denim of his jeans. “This is okay? Me touching you here? Like this?”

“For fuck’s sake, of course it is. It better be, since I put your hand there in the first place. Now, c’mon, you dragged me out into this sketchy back alley, so you better give me the whole experience.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Dylan warned, eyes twinkling, and lowered himself to his knees.

“Oh!” Rob cried, falling against the cement wall of the gallery. “Oh, oh shit, I didn’t mean that! You don’t have to—”

“Do you want it? Because if you want it, I want it.” He palmed Rob’s dick, teasing him with not nearly enough pressure. And then the bastard licked his lips. Looking down and seeing Dylan looking up, it was like the whole world had tilted on its side. Poseidon Adventure: Blowjob Edition.

“Yeah, God yeah, I want it, but in this rain your knees you’ll get wet and holy shit holy holy holy—”

Dylan had opened his fly. Had pulled his bare, hot cock out through the Y of his briefs and into the cool air. “Love that poem,” Dylan said as Rob gibbered past comprehension and gave himself over to the feeling of those soft but powerful hands wrapped around his shaft, shielding it from the cold and twisting sinfully in opposite directions. Wringing him out.

Anyone could see. Anyone could walk by. There might be surveillance cameras. Rob must have been going crazy. What poem was Dylan even talking about?

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Title: Wallflower by Heidi Belleau
Rear Entrance Video Book Two
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, M/M
Length: 205 pages/Word Count: 54,500

Summary:

This gamer geek has a lacy little secret.

Art student and MMORPG addict Robert Ng has always been a loner, but he’s recently made it his goal to make more (IRL) friends. Which is how he winds up working nights at Rear Entrance Video, shilling sketchy porn and blowup dolls as a favor to his roommate. The longer he works there, though, the more he realizes he’ll never be truly happy until he becomes the person he is online: his female persona, Bobby.

Bobby is cuter and funnier than Rob is, and a thousand times more popular with boys. Becoming Bobby IRL presents its own set of challenges, though . . . especially when you’re sitting on the fence between two genders, only one of which has caught the attention of your seriously cute customer/classmate.

Dylan Ford is a six-foot Inuit comic book artist who always says what’s on his mind, and screw anyone who doesn’t like it. As rough as he appears, though, Dylan has a soft spot for Rob. But will out-and-proud Dylan still want Rob if he’s not all man?

Buy it now or read an excerpt at Riptide Publishing!

Read my review of Wallflower HERE.

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Author Bio

Heidi Belleau was born and raised in small town New Brunswick, Canada, but now lives in the rugged oil-patch frontier of Northern BC with her husband and daughter. She has a degree in history from Simon Fraser University with a concentration in British and Irish studies. Her writing reflects everything she loves: diverse casts of characters, a sense of history and place, equal parts witty and filthy dialogue, the occasional mythological twist, and most of all, love—in all its weird and wonderful forms. Visit her online at www.HeidiBelleau.com, or chat with her on twitter: @HeidiBelleau

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Contest

Win an e-copy of Rear Entrance Video #1: Apple Polisher! All you have to do is leave a comment on this or any of the other Wallflower tour posts. Each comment counts for another entry, so be sure to follow the entire tour. Just make sure your comment includes a way for me to contact you, be it email, twitter, or facebook. On October 27th, I’ll randomly draw a winner from all the entries who will receive a copy of Apple Polisher in their choice of format. Good luck!

Follow the rest of the tour HERE.