Convergence, book 3 in the Mother Earth series, is Lynx's story. It is available in ebook formats from Samhain Publishing.

Click here to read the first chapter on the Samhain website. Read on for sexy times with Lynx and Rabbit *g*

Excerpt:

© Copyright 2011 Ally Blue

Closing the distance between them, Rabbit laid his hands on Lynx’s shoulders. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”

At that moment, the brightness from outside vanished as suddenly as if it were Rabbit’s small flame in the corner being snuffed out. Lights out, Lynx guessed. In the dim candle glow, the curve of Rabbit’s mouth was achingly beautiful. His eyes shone with the same desire driving Lynx’s heartbeat into a hard gallop.

“No.” Lynx’s voice emerged in a rough whisper. He stepped closer, close enough to press his body against Rabbit’s. “I don’t want to talk.”

An expression almost like pain came over Rabbit’s face, yet his smile could’ve lit the whole world. He cupped Lynx’s face in both hands and stared into his eyes, still smiling, thumbs caressing the corners of Lynx’s mouth. He didn’t say a word, but Lynx read his whole heart in his wide open eyes and the tilt of his lips. Unable to face the troubled, hopeful gaze directly, Lynx threaded his fingers into Rabbit’s hair and kissed him.

Before, they’d been caught up in the simple joy of kissing one another again after such a long time apart. Now, their bodies remembered the desire they’d once shared. The way a touch, a kiss, even a lingering look could bring the fire blazing to life between them. Lynx moaned and rutted against the thigh Rabbit had shoved between his legs. He wormed a hand between them, rubbed his palm on the hard length of Rabbit’s cock and savored the way Rabbit gasped and shuddered in response.

Rabbit broke the kiss to pull Lynx’s shirt over his head. It fell to the ground in a heap. Together, they peeled off Rabbit’s shirt. Lynx ran shaking hands over Rabbit’s bare skin. His chest and belly bore a few new scars. Small ones, barely noticeable among the larger, older ones Lynx already knew by heart. Lynx bent and kissed the new, crooked silver line across Rabbit’s collarbone, then leaned in to tongue the jagged pink scar on Rabbit’s neck where a nomad’s knife had cut him years before his disappearance.

That wound had almost killed him. And now the same people who’d inflicted it owned him. Owned them both.

Great Mother, Lynx didn’t want to think about it. Not now.

Angry, hungry, desperate for the one touch he’d thought for so long that he’d never feel again, Lynx curled his fingers around Rabbit’s cock and squeezed. He could feel Rabbit’s heat through the bunched fabric of the thin pants. Inflamed by Rabbit’s low groan, Lynx sucked at the spot just above Rabbit’s scar that always made him shiver.

Rabbit wedged both hands between their bodies, untied the string holding up Lynx’s pants and then his own, knocking Lynx’s hand out of the way in his haste. He turned his head. Lynx moved by instinct, meeting Rabbit in a fierce open-mouthed kiss. He shoved Rabbit’s pants down. They fell to the floor with an unexpected clunk.

It reminded Lynx of the times long, long ago, in the Pack training camp, when Rabbit would steal bottles of oil from the kitchens and talk Lynx into doing things they weren’t supposed to be doing yet. Lynx smiled against Rabbit’s mouth. “I hope you didn’t get caught with that.”

Rabbit chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Something in Rabbit’s voice sounded off. At that moment, though, Lynx didn’t care. He could delve into this latest strangeness another time. Right now, all he wanted was to forget everything that had happened for a little while and feel Rabbit inside him again.

Lynx grabbed Rabbit’s ass in both hands. Dug his fingers into the meat of the muscles there, thinner than he remembered but no less firm. His knees buckled when Rabbit closed a warm hand around his prick. Only Rabbit’s arm around his waist kept him upright. A helpless whimper escaped his lips.

Rabbit glanced down at the pants puddled around Lynx’s ankles. “Take them off.”

Lynx kicked free of the pants and his shoes, hanging on to Rabbit because his heart raced fast enough to make the room spin. He wondered how Rabbit managed to finish undressing without falling down, then noticed Rabbit clung to him with as much force as he did to Rabbit. That small fact made everything better somehow.

Naked, Rabbit bent and fished the little glass bottle of oil out of the rear pocket of his pants, then backed toward the pallet in the corner with Lynx in his arms. Lynx thanked the Mother that it was only a few paces, because he didn’t think he could make it any farther. Rabbit sank onto the bed, pulling Lynx on top of him. Setting the oil on the floor beside them, he kissed Lynx again, one hand on the back of his neck and the other tracing the crease of his ass. Lynx planted both elbows on the pallet and rocked his hips. Rabbit’s cock drove hard into his own.

Rabbit’s back arched. “Oh, Mother.” He groped for the oil.

Nothing more needed to be said. Pushing back to sit on Rabbit’s thighs, Lynx picked up the bottle, poured oil into his palm, set the bottle down again and slicked the length of Rabbit’s prick with slow strokes. Rabbit shook from head to toe, his hands grasping at Lynx’s legs and his throat working. Tiny noises bled from his open mouth.

He acted like a man who hadn’t been touched in a very long time. Lynx wondered about that, but not enough to distract him for more than a moment. He rose to his knees, intent on impaling himself on Rabbit’s cock.

Rabbit stopped him by sitting up. He smiled at Lynx’s impatient growl. “Lie back, Wildcat.”

Lynx’s heart lurched. Blinking against the sting behind his eyelids, he let Rabbit lower him to the pallet. The straw crinkled beneath him. It smelled fresh and sweet. He breathed deeper and caught the musky male scent of Rabbit’s skin, spiced with sweat and arousal.

Mother, he smelled good. Lynx pulled him closer. Buried his face in Rabbit’s neck to gather as much of his scent as possible. Even the smell and texture of the collar seemed exciting right now. He nuzzled at the edge of it, licked the dampness from Rabbit’s skin beneath it. He refused to think about what it represented. Not right now.

Rabbit urged Lynx’s legs apart with a hand on his knee. Lynx watched Rabbit coat his fingers with oil, watched the slippery hand vanish between his thighs. Two fingers slid inside him, heading straight for the spot that made him see stars, and he barely stifled a cry. He lifted one leg up to his chest to give Rabbit more room to play.

The stutter in Rabbit’s breath spoke volumes. He pumped his fingers in and out. Twisting, rubbing his thumb around the rim, spreading the oil. Preparing Lynx with the same sure, gentle skill he remembered from countless nights and mornings and stolen moments together back in Carwin.

Fighting the urge to shut his eyes and simply feel, Lynx drank in the sight of Rabbit propped on one elbow between his splayed legs. Rabbit’s eyes were dark and hooded, his cheeks pink and his mouth kiss-swollen. The muscles of his upper arm bunched and relaxed as his fingers delved inside Lynx. His oiled cock gleamed in the candlelight, the foreskin pulled back to reveal the wide, flushed head.

Lynx wanted him. Wanted Rabbit to lift his legs, spread him open and push into him, fuck him slow and deep and without mercy, just like he used to. Fill his heart and soul as well as his body once again.

He can’t. Not anymore. We’re beyond that now.

Something very like a sob emerged from Lynx before he could stop it. “Rabbit.”

The word held more than a simple plea for sex. It echoed with the yearning for times past. Times that would never come again. Rabbit had to know it, even if he didn’t understand all the layers of it any more than Lynx himself did. But he said nothing.

Lynx was glad of it. Whatever came later, however they eventually healed this rift between them—if they ever did—he needed the comfort of being with Rabbit right now. Looking into Rabbit’s eyes, he thought they both did.