Fierce & Fabulous Read online Elizabeth Varlet (Sassy Boyz #1)

Categories Genre: Angst, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Tear Jerker Tags Authors: Series: Sassy Boyz Series by Elizabeth Varlet
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Fierce & Fabulous (Sassy Boyz #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Elizabeth Varlet

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B01E355XPO
Book Information:

The first in a scorching new male/male series by Elizabeth Varlet. Behind the Sassy Boyz's seductive smiles and sinful dance moves are desires that will leave readers breathless. Fitch Donovan never thought a lap dance could change his life, but from the moment the gorgeous dancer's lips touch his, his world comes screeching to a halt. No matter how hard he tries, he can't shake the desire that rocks him to his core. He's longed for this passion all his life—he just never dreamed he'd find it with another man.

Sharing a soul-shaking kiss with a straight boy is the kind of drama Ansel Becke just doesn't need. Spotlights aren't made for two and Ansel prefers to keep things on a one-night-only basis. So when Fitch shows up asking for an encore, Ansel knows he should send his gorgeous ass packing.

Though Ansel tries to pretend that what's between him and Fitch is far from fabulous, there's something about the big, burly contractor that makes Ansel's world sparkle in a way no amount of glitter ever could. And Fitch will do whatever it takes to convince Ansel that when the thing you need most in the world falls right into your lap, you'd be a fool to let it go.
Books in Series:

Sassy Boyz Series by Elizabeth Varlet

Books by Author:

Elizabeth Varlet Books



Chapter One

A gay bar.

Of course it was a gay bar.

He should have known. Because only his sister would choose to celebrate her twenty-first birthday party in a gay bar.

Fitch sighed and scratched his jaw. Why couldn’t it have been a lesbian bar? They had those, right?

Then again, he wouldn’t have gotten any enjoyment in one of those either. Meg had ruined the whole lesbian-fantasy thing when she’d come out at fourteen. There was no pleasure in imagining two hot chicks doing nasty, beautiful things to each other when one of them kept morphing into your sister.

Fitch barely suppressed a shudder at the thought, but no one noticed. Not Meg or her friends, who were all too busy drinking and laughing and shouting over the thundering music to notice how uncomfortable he was.

A straight man in a gay club in New York City. He wasn’t the first, obviously, but he felt like it. He hunched over the Coke he’d been nursing for the past half hour and tried his best to ignore the interested stares he was getting. If his buddies could see him now they’d shit their pants laughing and then volunteer to kick some ass with him just as a matter of loyalty. As if he needed to protect his delicate manly sensibilities by resorting to physical violence.

He sighed.

No, he’d just have to suffer in silence.

The place was so dark it should have been impossible to catch anyone’s eye, but the rainbow laser light-beams moved in time with the strobe’s beat to create a disconcerting kaleidoscope effect that provided just enough light and just enough headache-inducing delirium for him to feel kind of trippy even though he was stone-cold sober.

Another sip of warm Coke didn’t help. And neither did the shadows or the uncomfortable hunch.

He couldn’t have stood out more if he’d had a blinking neon sign over his head.

The Vibe. If he’d been smart he would have said no as soon as Meg mentioned the name of the place. Then again, he’d never been able to say no to his baby sister. She was a devil with sweet eyes and he’d been devoted to her ever since she was born. Even if all she ever did was torture him.

“If you don’t cheer up I’m going to tell Mom,” Meg bellowed into his ear.

He looked up just in time to see her school her smile into a frown. Her hazel eyes reflected the rainbow lights and glittered back at him with an overly glossy veneer. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips twitched just enough to make him laugh. She’d always been a terrible liar.

“You are such a brat,” he said.

“Shut up, you love me.” Her giggle was slightly crazed.

“You’re drunk.”

She smiled and nudged his shoulder with her own. “I’m twenty-one, big bro! That’s the whole point.”

On his twenty-first he’d gone overboard with the Jack Daniel’s and ended up puking his guts out two hours into the party. The hangover had put him off the stuff for years. The way Meg was headed she’d be having a similar experience and the idea made everything else worth it.

“Sure, just remember that when Tara is holding your hair back and you’re worshiping the porcelain god.”

She pffted at him and turned to kiss Tara.

Jesus, she hadn’t even warned him. She really was a brat.

To avoid watching his baby sister make out, he turned toward the crowded dance floor. So much skin, so many grinding masculine bodies moving to the pop hit-slash-techno beat like the music put them into some kind of trance. Either the DJ was a wizard or the dancers were all caught in a lust frenzy. And the DJ was no wizard.

He rubbed his temple and considered heading to the bar to refresh his Coke, but the last time he’d done that he’d been hit on by three guys, all of them half-naked and young. Too young. And none of them had taken his “Sorry, I’m straight” as anything but a challenge. Better to just avoid the situation and hope the waiter would come by soon.

The music faded and the DJ’s voice came through the speakers. “And now it’s time for a treat. Put your hands together for the hottest show in New York City. Give it up, for the Sassy Boyz!”

Beside him, Meg squealed as the rest of the club erupted into cheers and turned to face a stage he hadn’t even noticed. The intro music started and the curtains slowly rose.

“Oh my God, they’re doing Jessie J’s ‘Do It Like A Dude’! I saw a clip of this one on YouTube, it’s awesome,” his sister exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat.

“Jesus, you’d think you were at a Beyoncé concert instead of a drag show.” He shook his head at her.

Across the table her friend leaned forward. “It’s not a drag show. They’re not queens.”


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