'Down to Earth' by Elizabeth Coldwell

The ground was coming towards him far too fast.

Remembering the words of his instructor, drilled into him when he’d first started taking skydiving lessons, he did his best to relax. His main parachute might have failed—the problem caused by more than a simple twist in the lines that could quickly be untangled—but he still had a reserve. He could see the white expanse of Craig’s chute fluttering below him, and tried to judge his own altitude from that. Less than a thousand feet, he reckoned. It left him no time to cut the main chute away. But that’s why he had a back-up. The chances of that failing, too, were so small as to be negligible.

Pulling at the deployment handle of the reserve chute with all the strength he had, he counted down the seconds, waiting for the reassuring feeling as the furled bundle of nylon cloth opened and the wind tugged him upward.

It didn’t come.

Oh, fuck, this is bad…really bad.

Fighting against the panic that threatened to overwhelm him, he tugged at the handle a second time. Still nothing. Despite the odds, the second chute had turned out to be as faulty as the first.

Below him, Craig’s parachute was a white blanket spread across the springy grass. It appeared he had landed safely. For him, this had been nothing but a routine jump. Praying that once Craig had gathered up his chute, he’d look up and notice what was wrong, Ryan closed his eyes, wanting his lover to be the last thing on his mind. Hitting the ground was going to hurt more than anything he’d ever known, and he needed a pleasant memory to distract him from thoughts of the pain to come.

Thinking of something pleasant where Craig was involved wouldn’t exactly be hard. Until then, today had been pretty much the best day of his life…

'Please, Doctor' by Serena Yates

"This was a huge mistake!" Patrick McNeill sat on the barstool and tried to hold on to his temper. With his back to the huge mirrors behind the glass shelves containing more different types of alcohol than he wanted to count, he had a good view of what was going on in the dim lighting. When he’d first walked in about an hour ago, he’d gaped at the unbelievable setup that made the bar area look über-decadent with the reflections visually doubling the number of bottles actually there. Despite the amazing display, it wasn’t the main attraction, however.

"How can going to Pepper on a Friday night be a mistake?" Martin, his best friend since elementary school, lowered the pint of bitter he’d been nursing and stared at Patrick as if he’d committed a crime. Martin shook his head, causing his red locks to bounce. His hair was just a little too long for his style to be called fashionable, and added to his big blue eyes they made him look more like a teenager than a man in his late twenties. "Pepper is the hottest gay club in Manchester—possibly all of north England!"

"I don’t know." Patrick shrugged and took another sip of his Porn Star #2—the smooth mixture of Malibu and crushed strawberries just sweet enough to soothe his rising annoyance. Some people might consider it a ‘girly’ drink, but he didn’t care. He was so far out of his element in this place it wasn’t funny. And anyway, this was a gay bar and the concoction was on the menu, so sue him for ordering one.

"What do you mean you don’t know?" Martin raised his eyebrows incredulously then pointed around them in a circular motion. "None of these men do it for you? Not even a little?"

Patrick surveyed his surroundings again, hoping to find a man who could hold his interest. This place offered a variety of choices to the discerning gay man on the prowl. Hell, even less perceptive patrons were sure to find someone to their liking here. The range went from the scruffy leather-type to the more sophisticated, well-dressed man, and from the very young up to the older 'daddies' who were so popular with some. Pepper was one of the few clubs able to attract this wide a clientele.

The overcrowded dance floor was definitely the biggest attraction. With loud, very bass-heavy music blaring through strategically placed loudspeakers, there was no escaping the rhythmic beat of Manchester’s hippest gay bar anywhere in the public areas, but the majority of the most outrageous action was right here. Well, the parts of the action with at least some clothing still in place. Based on what he saw here, Patrick was afraid to go to the men’s room, never mind check out any of the back rooms that seemed rather well frequented based on the number of people walking back and forth.

'Roley's Wood' by A.J. Llwellyn

"This is the last time—and I mean it, Paul—the very last time I’ll ever let you book our vacations for us." I couldn’t believe what I saw.

"Why? How can you say that? You haven’t even given the house a chance yet, Jack."

"I’ve given it a chance. Plenty of chances. It’s horrible. Absolutely horrible."

"No, it’s not. It’s just…well loved."

"Well loved?" I tried to hold my temper in check—after all, this was supposed to be a restful vacation. "Paul, it’s somebody’s house!"

"I know that. I thought it was a great idea. We wanted to see Edinburgh the way the locals do—"

"The poverty-stricken locals? God, Paul. Did you even look at some photos of it before you paid for it?"

"Of course I did." He got defensive. "I found the ad on Craigslist and there were tons of photos."

"And you saw the fake leather sofas and thought, what? That they were charming?"

"They’re very retro, Jack. Very in right now." He had to be joking.

I was afraid to touch anything. There was a grubby vibe to it all. I’d just recovered from a serious illness, and I needed and wanted clean. I wanted a nice hotel room with fresh-smelling sheets.

"Of all the terrible things you’ve done to me, babe, this is by far the worst." He huffed and puffed a moment. "It was cheap, and besides, we agreed we wouldn’t be inside all day. We agreed we wanted to have an authentic Edinburgh experience." I turned to Milo, Paul’s boyfriend. "And what do you think? You like this place?" The curly haired Brazilian bombshell lifted his shoulders, ever expressive in a mere gesture. "No. It’s a nightmare. I hope I wake up soon, but in case I don’t…it’s paid for and they won’t give us a refund. By the way, I just tried to wash my hands in the bathroom and the cold water tap fell off." "We got a discount for that," Paul said. "Anyway, somebody’s coming to fix it tomorrow." I sniffed. "It smells in here. I’m pretty sure it’s dirty diapers." "They have a baby." "I smell cat piss, too," Milo said. "Come on, guys, it’s not that bad. You’ll see. Hey, Jack—Milo and I will let you have the pick of the bedrooms." I lifted a brow. "Oh, that just makes my day. Only one room has a double bed—the other is a kid’s room. Is that the room you and Milo want?" Milo looked alarmed. "No, no! No single bed for me. You’re single. The single person gets the single bed. And I don’t dig the poopy diaper smell."

'Love Without Borders' by Sara York

Jason shrieked as Tom yanked his arm, causing him to tumble across Tom’s legs. The rest of the firemen jeered and cheered while Tom popped him on the ass twice.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" He struggled against Tom’s hold for a second, all the while laughing, his ribs still aching from the earlier exertion. The guys made catcalls in good fun. Tom delivered another strike and heat flashed over Jason’s entire body.

"Think you’re a superhero. We’ll bring you back to earth, rookie boy," Tom growled. "Don’t get too big for your britches, son, because we can always do this the next time you get cocky."

The station erupted into hoots of laughter. Tom whacked him one last time then let him up. It felt as though a volcano had erupted and lava flowed over Jason’s chest and face. He knew the blush on his cheeks would match his fiery red hair. The guys teased him, calling out and laughing, a few even coming in to give him a hug and pinch on the ass. Their reaction was normal for what he’d done. Actually, all the attention felt good—at least, a little good, even though they were beating his butt.

"Enough already!" Jason shouted. He pushed the last of the well-wishers and gropers away.

"Hey, buddy, it’s a big deal," his captain, Mike, hollered out. "You saved three peoples’ lives today. Tomorrow night, we’re going to meet at the Dog and raise a glass. Six, tomorrow night, at the Dog—and everyone chips in to pay for Jason’s meal."

More cuffs were delivered to his back while kind words filled his ears. He’d been here almost a year, but was still a rookie in everyone’s eyes, and tonight he’d outshone them all. Goodnights were said, lights turned off and before long he found himself alone in the dim kitchen, staring at the sink full of dirty dishes they’d tossed in when the call had gone out.

Fuck, what a call.

Jason gulped in a lungful of air, his throat squeezing shut. Thoughts of the girl and her mother trapped in that car raced through his mind. Then he’d seen the brother…

'Doctor, Doctor' by HL Holston and Eleanor Bruce

The heat of Ryker’s naked body pressed against Daniel, from the backs of his knees up to where his soft lips caressed the back of his neck. He gasped when Ryker’s very obvious erection slipped into the cleft of his ass as the warm water from the shower beat against his chest. Daniel’s cock hardened at the sensation of Ryker’s dick sliding in between his ass cheeks. Suddenly, his solitary shower took on a whole new meaning.

But trust Ryker to pick the worst time to want to fuck. Daniel had an early shift at the hospital and was already running behind. Besides, whatever happened to a subtle wooing? This was a far cry from the soft wake-me-up kisses and sweet nothings Ryker usually bestowed on him in the morning. Normally his lover was the master of seduction, not the wham, bam, thank you ma’am approach. Despite his arousal, Daniel frowned. This new technique needed some work.

"In a rush, sailor? Do I even get a say on where that thing is going?" Daniel griped, his voice still rusty with sleep. He pushed back against Ryker anyway, telling him that despite his sarcastic words, he wanted Ryker’s embrace. He wanted Ryker’s strong arms around him, craved the feeling of his thick cock slipping inside of him, pounding his ass as only Ryker could do.

"You looked so beautiful just standing there with the water rolling off your perfect…lush…and utterly tempting body." As he spoke, Ryker swept his palms over his stomach, down his treasure trail, finally gripping his swollen cock. "How could a mere mortal resist? It was like your ass was calling my name." His hands abruptly moved from Daniel’s dick to grab that part of anatomy that he was talking about.

Daniel laughed at his lover’s ridiculousness. "Well, that call is going to have to wait, stud. I’m running late for work." Daniel sighed, disappointed he couldn’t stay and play with his lover. "Despite having a boss who is a dream to work for, tardiness is not accepted in my line of—"

"Screw him. Tell him you got a flat or your dog died. A few minutes won’t matter. I can’t wait until tonight. I need you right now," Ryker implored. His voice was low and purposefully seductive, and he was back to stroking Daniel’s painfully hard dick with a skill that left Daniel breathless.

'Trusting the ER Doctor's Heart' by Noelle Keaton

The coffee in the break room had long turned into some sort of weird, unidentifiable sludge, but Kyle drank it anyway, needing some sort of caffeine infusion to make it through the next few hours. Although his shift had technically ended, the middle of the cold and flu season meant the Philadelphia General emergency room was overflowing, so he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Moving towards the window, Kyle sighed as he watched the snowflakes fall and hoped it wasn’t the beginning of a snowstorm. Snowstorms meant car accidents and car accidents meant he’d never get to leave.

A booming voice interrupted the quiet of the break room. "Hey, Doc! What are you doing?"

Turning, Kyle saw Trent, a paramedic, walk in, balancing a carton full of Styrofoam cups in one hand, and a white bag with the delicious aromas of pastries wafting from it in the other.

"Don’t drink that poison. Take one of these."

After pouring the rest of his coffee in the sink, Kyle gratefully took one of the cups Trent handed him. "What’s this? A belated Christmas present?"

"Nah. We lost to the ER again in hockey, so this is the last of the pay-up. I guess you weren’t here when Joe did the first drop-off?"

Kyle shook his head. "This is the first chance I’ve had to come up for air all day. But should you be giving me this? I’m not on the hockey team." Too clumsy, Kyle silently added, feeling inadequate next to the muscular and fit Trent. Despite the baggy paramedic uniform and the bulky jacket, Kyle could tell Trent had the well-toned body that came from hockey and working out. While Kyle had a decent body, the long hours he put in as an ER attending physician didn’t leave a lot of time to create a brawny build like he’d had in high school—the kind of build Trent had now.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Kyle scolded himself as Trent continued, "Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. I know you guys have been slammed today, so I doubt anyone would begrudge you a coffee. Take one of the pastries, too. The bear claws are my favourite."

"No, I better not." But a loud growl from Kyle’s stomach betrayed him.

"I think you’d better," Trent laughed, taking a bear claw out of the bag and handing it to him. "Otherwise, you’re going to scare off the patients when you go back out there."

"You’re probably right." Kyle bit into the sweet and flaky pastry. "But if that’s a way of clearing out the ER so I can get out of here, maybe that’s not such a bad thing."