KC Kendricks
Romance for real life and a bit beyond
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* * * * *
KC Kendricks never disappoints!"
-- Fallen Angel Reviews

"..beautifully moving in all the
right places...KC Kendricks gives
us a well-crafted tale"
- The Romance Studio

"Good to the last word...."
- Sensual Reads

..."Seriously entertaining and
totally engaging..."
- Joyfully Reviewed

"...solidly written contemporary
Contemporary gay romance - the Men of Marionville series

These stories can be read individually. They feature characters in the same community, all friends. They do
not need to be read in the order in which they were written to enjoy them fully, but they are numbered for
those who prefer to do so. For more about the Men of Marionville series,
click here.

This website is intended for use by consenting adults and mature readers only.
It is not intended for any unmarried individual under the age of 18.
Subject matter deals with the consensual sexual practices of adults in the forms of
romance novels, gay fiction and gay literature including gay males, gay love, and gay sex.
Copyright KC Kendricks   All Rights Reserved.
Piracy is a crime.
Leather Jackets
contemporary gay romance, book six of the Men of Marionville series
Jude Thatcher needs a life fix. He walked away from a his
severance pay is quickly vanishing.

Wynn DeRocher’s talent and ambition catapulted his band to
the top of the charts, but he paid a steep price to achieve
success. He needs a flesh and blood man, one who
understands the demands of his music. He needs the man he
let get away - Jude Thatcher.

Wynn pitches a proposal - a lucrative job modeling the band’
s new line of logo’d leather. Jude accepts, but both men
know it’ll take more than fancy dinners and limo rides to
convince Jude to risk his heart again.

To covet might be a sin, but Jude needs a gesture o good
faith. And he wants Wynn’s leather jacket as much as he
wants Wynn. Almost. Jude knows a man must be sincere if
he'll give you the coat off his back.

Wynn held the hip-length coat for me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, then he let the weight of it
come to rest on my shoulders. The jacket was light, but incredibly warm. I flipped open the left side to
check the lining.

“Don’t bother. You’d have to cut the cloth to see what the insulating layer is.”

I stretched my arms out in front of my chest. The jacket moved with me, giving just enough to remain

“This is a nice jacket. I see why you liked. Does he make bombers?”

Wynn reached in the closet and pulled out a black bomber complete with silver studs and chains. He
caressed a front panel. “This is so you, Jude. Take it.”

For a moment, I was tempted. “I can’t accept this. It’s hand-stitched so I’m sure it was expensive.”

“Nine large. But take it. Call it a signing bonus.”

“Wynn, I don’t know the first thing about modeling. You need a professional, or better yet, model this
yourself. Your fans will go wild.”

His fingers trailed down my leather-clad arm until they found mine. He hesitated, then stroked his
thumb over my knuckles. His voice was so low I had to strain to hear it.

“I knew you were here. I came back to Marionville to find you, Jude.”
“C’mon on over here.” He lifted his arm and I nestled in against him like I did it every day of my life.
“Jude, where do you want to go from here?”

I could play coy - something neither of us had ever liked - or I could be upfront with him. I chose the
“Wherever you’re sleeping, I’m sleeping, and you know it. Now we can try to find a bar where the
clientele won’t mob you, or we can find a nice quiet - private - place and say the things we need to say
to each other.”

He grinned at me. “Damn, Mary. You should be out of breath after all that.”

I growled and turned on him. “Don’t. Call. Me. Mary!”

Wynn held up his hand in mock surrender and it was the opening I needed. I dug my fingers into his
ribs. He yelped and twitched and the next thing I knew we were rolling around on the floor of the limo,
choking with shared laughter.

We rolled left and I rose over him. Wynn’s long legs wrapped around my waist, squeezing me. I
feigned defeat so he’d release me. The ploy worked for about a second and a half and then I was on
my back looking up at him. The smile faded from his face and his hand cupped the back of my head.

“I’ve thought about you so much, Jude. I was wrong not to find you years ago.”

It would do no good to argue. Too many years had gone by for either of us to resurrect blame. Nothing
would be gained and all the steps we’d taken in the last day would be erased, something I couldn't
allow to happen. He’d only be here for such a short time. I had to make the most of every moment.

“Maybe, Wynn, but perhaps not. You had things you had to do. I had things I wanted to do.”

“Having you with me would have made it all sweeter.” He lowered his mouth to mine.

I was startled by the gentle poignancy of his kiss. For a split second, he laid himself bare for me, then
I opened my lips and invited him in. The change in him was swift. A deep groan rumbled in his chest.
His pelvis flexed to mine. My balls drew up as my cock swelled, eager for his touch, for the wet swipe
of his tongue.

Wynn’s lips trailed fire down my neck and along my jaw line. My heart pounded as the skin on my back
and buttocks prickled. Deep inside small muscles twitched with anticipation of something I couldn’t be
sure would happen. I hooked my foot around the back of his knees and rolled us against the other
seat. We ended up on our sides facing each other.

“Damn, it’s tight quarters in here.”

Wynn’s big hand clamped onto my ass and squeezed. “We had to promise no sex in the limo to keep
our driver happy. But he turns a blind eye to the occasional little grope and pant session.” His cool
hand dipped under the waistband of my pants and his long fingers wrapped around my hard shaft and
moved in short strokes. I rested my forehead to his.

“Oh, God. Every time I jerk off I think of your hand.” I cupped his balls through his slacks.

He kissed me again, his tongue teasing mine and sending my pulse skyrocketing. “Do you want to get
off now?”

I pressed forward, pinning his hand between our lower bodies and stopping his subtle movements.
“No. Stop. After all this time I don’t want to you to jerk me off in the damn limo and get your driver

Wynn gave my cock a last easy squeeze and pulled his hand out of my pants.

“We need to go to your place. If any of the local paparazzi has figured out where I’m staying, they
might spot us sneaking into the parking garage at the hotel.”

I rimmed his ear as I murmured my agreement. He reached out a long arm, smacked the intercom
button, told his driver to head to my place and put his arm around me. Wynn paused, his lips scant
millimeters from mine.

“It’ll be okay, Jude. You’ll see…”