If a college freshman can’t get laid in sun-drenched Miami, he’s doing something wrong. Frankie Perez is determined to help his roommate get some man action in any way possible.
When Frankie’s arsenal of dating apps, fashion advice, and playing-hard-to-get lessons doesn’t work, he realizes Jeremy needs remedial help. Except tutoring Jeremy in the art of sex gets steamier than Frankie expected—and it scares the hell out of him.
Jeremy’s not sure why he’s wasting his time hooking up when he’s only got eyes for the slinky, sexy roommate he comes home to at night. But the hotter their chemistry simmers, the quicker Frankie dances away.
In near desperation, Frankie suggests the two of them team up to find a third to top them both, forgetting that two bottoms aren’t immune from lusting after each other. In a world where every man is an option, choosing one to love can be the sexiest risk of all.
Warning: Contains questionable morals, copious immature hijinks, an X-rated photo shoot, and disastrous threesomes. Sex toys were misused (but not harmed) in the making of this book.
An excerpt from Twofer
Jeremy hurried to get his dick back into his sweatpants. “For God’s sake. I told you to be louder when you came into the room.” Hiding his embarrassment, Jeremy plucked the earbuds out of his ears.
“Aw.” His roommate Frankie sauntered past, hips in an arrogant wiggle. He wore white jeans, which had grayish scuff marks on the thighs showing Frankie had leaned against something grimy during his night out. “You know I like to watch you tug it.” Frankie shot a crooked smile across the room. “Anyway, I need to borrow a shirt. Mine smells like cigarettes and jizz.” He dug in Jeremy’s drawers.
Jeremy sighed. “I did your laundry. Look.” He jerked his chin towards Frankie’s bed. On top of the covers, Frankie’s jeans and T-shirts were folded next to his balled-up socks and underwear. Jeremy drew the line at folding underwear—he might be willing to take Frankie’s clothes down to the laundry room, but interacting that closely with Frankie’s multicolored, package-displaying briefs was too much for Jeremy’s poor Wisconsin heart.
“Jeremy Eugene Campbell. You’re my hero.” Frankie’s face split into a wide grin, his cinnamon skin stretched to dimples at his cheeks. He might only have been five-seven, but Frankie seemed taller when he was standing with his hand on his hip and his chin stuck out. “How about you? Did you catch any action last night?”
If you’re into M/M erotica, then hustle your buns and grab a copy of Twofer. Between Jeremy’s hilarious dating mishaps on Grindr and his red-hot lust for his sexy college roommate, you’ll find plenty of humor and heart in this tale of two boys looking for love in all the wrong places. (And if you’re a straight married chick like me, you’ll be thanking your lucky stars that apps like Grindr didn’t even exist when you were online dating!)
There’s lots of great character development in this book, and I really enjoyed getting to peek into the gay club scene in Miami. Frankie’s Cuban-American parents’ protectiveness of their kids, as well as Jeremy’s fish-out-of-water issues in taking on the more flamboyant local lifestyle (although compared to Wisconsin, what wouldn’t be?), both rang true for me. I also loved that while Frankie has a definite wild side, always pushing the sexual envelope and playing the field, he’s also a truly nice guy who worries about finding Mr. Right and settling down.
Playing on a traditional Odd Couple setup, you can’t help but root for these two to finally get together and stop pretending it’s all just a game.
About the Author
Retired party girl and science fiction enthusiast, Daisy Harris spends most of her time writing sexy romance and plotting the fall of Western civilization. Her books can be found on Amazon, Nook, and wherever else fine erotic romance is sold.
Ms. Harris lives in Seattle, where she tortures her husband by making it rain. She enjoys watching bridges cause traffic, watching football games cause traffic, and blithely wearing wool socks with sandals.
She has never taken a single picture in which her bra strap is not showing.
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