Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

that we don't keep seeing each other, but I won't make a fuss about it. I'll just leave quietly tonight and that will be that."
    Luke's fingers twitched around my wrist. "And if that isn't the case?" he asked.
    "Then…" I took another deep breath. "Then, I don't expect you to say the words or anything like that. You could just say, me too, or snap, or ditto, or, well… you could pretty much say anything you like, sir. But however you feel toward me, I'd prefer you didn't laugh at me when I say I love you."
    Luke stared straight into my eyes for several long seconds. For the first time since he crept up behind me and said boo in my ear, he looked nervous.
    His grip on my wrist was so tight it verged on painful, but his answer was too important for me to care about that.
    "Me too," Luke whispered.
    I closed my eyes. They were officially the two most beautiful words in the English language.
    "Jay?"
    I opened my eyes and looked straight into Luke's gaze. "Thank you, sir."
    Luke cleared his throat, obviously still very uncomfortable. I was so light-headed with relief, I felt a very inappropriate wave of laughter bubble up inside me. I couldn't let it out, but I had to grin.
    I crawled back closer to Luke and lay down alongside him. He didn't let go of my wrist for a moment, but he lifted his other arm and welcomed me close.
    "It's okay," he whispered into my ear. "You can laugh."
    This time, when Luke chuckled, it was obvious just how nervous the sound had been before and how relaxed it was now.
    I joined in as I tucked my face into Luke's neck and relished the even deeper level of safety I'd now found within his arms.
    My master loved me. That fact wasn't funny, but maybe the fact that big, strong, scary, leather-wearing Luke had almost had a panic attack over admitting it was just a little bit cute; as if I needed yet another reason to love him more than ever!
    THE END
    Author bio: Kim Dare is a twenty-eight year old full time writer from Wales (UK).
    First published in December 2008, Kim has since released over fifty BDSM erotic romances. That means that well over one hundred characters have chattered away inside her head during that time— and that's not even taking into account the fact that there are over three times that number of people clamouring in the wings for a chance to tell their stories. It's no wonder she loses track of what's happening in the "real" world at times…
    While Kim's stories range over male/male, male/female and all kinds of ménage relationships and have included vampires, time travellers, shape-shifters and fairy-tale re-tellings, they all have three things in common— kink, love and a happy ending.
    You can find out more about her and her stories on her website .
    Or you can get in touch directly via e-mail .
    ****

SANDS OF THYME
    by EM Lynley

    This vacation was not his idea, but when his sister bought him a vacation at a gay resort, he had no choice. All the men on lounges seemed so similar to a gay bar. How could he choose a man based on appearance alone? Then he saw a man looking at the water and sky through binoculars, sometimes writing in a notebook. Now our hero was intrigued.
    ~ Kimberly Be

    genre: contemporary
    tags: culinary/bartenders; computers; first time; geeks/nerds; humorous
    word count: 11,637
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    SANDS OF THYME
    by EM Lynley
    CHAPTER 1
    Burke Williams squinted in the bright sun as he walked out of his hotel room and toward the beach. He had a bottle of sunscreen, a fat potboiler mystery novel and a brand-new pair of bright green swim trunks on. So new they sort of chafed in all the wrong spots. He ducked back into his room and grabbed a wide-brimmed straw hat off the hook near the door, made sure his plastic key card was in his pocket, and shuffled in the direction of the waves.
    He sniffed. Top notes of salt, with a sort of fishy second note, and a coconut-suntan-lotion finish. Smells that caused images of long-past family beach vacations to bubble toward the surface of his consciousness. Family vacations. Family.
    At the moment, Burke could do without family. He inhaled and let out a long sigh as he approached a row of lounge chairs on the beach, about twenty feet from the highest point the waves kissed the beach. He wandered down the line glancing at each of the figures reclining. Rows of men. Rows of men in various shades from pale to overcooked. All lined up like a buffet.
    What else did he expect at a gay beach resort?
    He nodded as