Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
As the tension mounts, Aaron and Jason must face their demons. But those demons never counted on the love between them growing from a single flame to a raging inferno. Now, just maybe their demons will have trouble with them.
Publisher’s Note: The Prince and the Painter Parts 1 & 2 are the prequel to Painter's Pride (Prince and Painter 1). For everyone who asked Jason and Aaron’s history, thank you.
Warning: The Prince and the Painter Parts 1 & 2 deal with issues of PTSD, M/M rape, hate crimes, stalking, kidnapping, and torture. Jason and Aaron’s stories may be triggers.
Available Today at Changeling Press
SNEAK PEEK
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Emily Carrington
Copyright ©2020 Emily Carrington
Aaron woke with a hangover. He couldn’t imagine even lifting his head off the pillow, never mind getting out of Jason’s bed.
Jason’s bed. That’s where I am. He’d slept there the night before, after sharing the fifth Jason had offered. I told Jason the truth. And I didn’t have any nightmares despite everything I told him. Of course, he hadn’t told Jason everything, but he’d told him the worst part. The rest, Mrs. Fielding’s treatment of him chief among it and even the rape, paled by comparison.
He squinted into the dimness and saw he was alone in the bed. The other bed had been slept in but was likewise empty. What time was it?
He struggled to a sitting position despite his pounding head. And found a note half tucked under the pillow where he’d been resting.
Good morning, Aaron. I have to show up at the tutoring center at ten, so that’s where I am. If you have time to get to class, I suggest you go. Griffin says resuming a normal routine as soon as possible will help. I don’t know if she’s right, but she knows more about healing than I’ll ever learn.
-- Jason
Realizing he was still in his jeans and T-shirt from last night, Aaron tucked the note, carefully folded, into his back pocket. Then he pushed himself out of bed. The room spun a little, but when he took a steadying breath, it stabilized.
“If this is what a hangover’s like,” he muttered, grimacing at the taste in his mouth, “I’ll never get drunk again.”
Jason’s door opened and Griffin, wrapped in a towel and nothing else, trudged in. She looked much less glamorous first thing in the morning, but still managed to carry herself with a regal tilt to her head. “Morning,” she muttered as if finding Jason’s boyfriend in his bed was normal.
“Uh, hi. Do you know what time it is?”
“Ten-thirty.”
Halfway through his calculus class. Aaron sighed. “I guess I’ll go back to my dorm and change.”
“Probably for the best.” But Griffin was looking at Aaron, nailing him to the spot with her gaze.
Aaron swallowed. “What?”
“You’re a lost lamb. Jay loves lost lambs. But if you don’t bring anything to the table but heartache and horror, stay away from him.” Griffin turned her back on Aaron and dropped the towel as she reached for clothes already arranged on her bed. “He’s gentle and he’s loving, but that doesn’t give you permission to use his nature against him. Unless you have something to offer him, and I mean something good, leave him alone.” She sighed. “Aaron, that came out more harshly than I intended. It’s just… Jason’s nature is loving. I don’t want to see him hurt.”
Aaron stuffed his feet into his shoes. “I’m not asking anything of Jason.”
“No? What about asking him to listen to the confession you gave yesterday?”
“I told him the most horrible thing that’s happened to me.” Was that true? Which was worse, forced masturbation or rape? Maybe neither is worse. Maybe the worst were Vance’s hands and breath.
“And he’s still trying to look out for you. If that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is.” Griffin cast a glance over one shoulder. “If you don’t have anything to bring…”
“To the table. I get it.” Aaron escaped the room. He rushed down the stairs and through the common area. Once he was outside, he broke into a run. He had something to bring to Griffin’s metaphorical table. He had love and self-respect and self-love and passion and truth. His suicide prevention group had helped him realize all he still had to offer. He was strong. Able to stand on his own two feet.
And what did Griffin mean by “getting involved” anyway? What was Jason to her besides a roommate?
And what did Griffin mean by “getting involved” anyway? What was Jason to her besides a roommate?
They’re friends, but Griffin’s acting more like a parent. This comparison eased some of Aaron’s anger. He respected a parent’s love for their children. Wasn’t that very love part of the reason his own mother was so protective?
But Griffin was not his mother, he reasoned as he slowed to a walk. He’d rounded the student union and was in sight of his dorm. Griffin’s just… a friend.
Like the older people in my group back home are just friends even when they act like parents.
This realization made Aaron lose all his anger toward Griffin. She would come around when she saw how much he cared for Jason. Calmed, he went into his dorm.
Today there was no note on the board. Aaron admitted he’d been watching for one. Thanking his lucky stars, he headed for his room. If he was quick, he could catch the end of his math class and get the homework.
He sniffed his pits. Well, maybe not. What I need first is a shower.
ABOUT EMILY CARRINGTON
Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.
No comments:
Post a Comment