Hi guys! Today I am SO excited to welcome the awesome Leta Blake to the blog. Leta is here to share more about her fabulous new release, Training Day. I totally went crazy for this book you guys, and it was in my Best of 2013. If you haven’t read it yet, get on that!  And if you need more incentive, today Leta is sharing a super hot and kinky deleted scene from the book (def NSFW).  She is also offering up a copy to give away to one lucky reader. So please join me in giving Leta a big welcome!


I’m excited to be here at Jay’s sharing a deleted scene from Training Season and giving away a free copy! Comment on the post for a chance to win!

During the ego-deflating, often times painful, but always imperative editing process, I deleted around 20,000 words from Training Season. One cut scene had required a lot of research and turned out pretty well in most beta readers’ opinions, but it just didn’t fit into the story as a whole. It told us nothing new about the characters and so it had to be snipped away for the good of the whole. I admit, it was especially hard to see that scene go. Which is why I’m thrilled to be able to share it with readers now through guest posts like this one!

I must say that the research for this scene was really quite titillating. Given that I write gay romance and I lack the necessary parts to know firsthand how certain activities might feel, I spend a lot of time online reading various forums where men, for whatever reason, discuss at length the various sexual sensations and orgasms they experience. And, obviously, every man seems somewhat different in terms of their descriptions and what they respond to and what they don’t respond to at all. Generally, I try to create an amalgam from various people’s commentary so that I’m not taking on any outliers in how I describe the acts and feelings.

leta blake 1In the case of this scene, I read many, many, many threads at THE ANEROS FORUM and tried to utilize some of the most descriptive examples I found there in the way I handled the character’s experience in the scene. I gotta say, those forums are fascinating and I totally dropped down a rabbit hole and came out wishing I had a prostate. Damn. So, do check them out if you have the time and want to either be glad you have a prostate or wish desperately that you did. Research says if one approaches the prostate with practice, relaxation, and plenty of time, your brain will explode into a million shards of glorious, orgasmic light, a la this photo on the left.

To say this scene is titillating would be underselling it, frankly. My beta-readers told me it was smokin’ hot and were reluctant to see it go, though most agreed that the flow of the book benefitted from its deletion. So let’s get on with it, shall we?

Leta blake RobFirst, let’s meet Rob. He’s a rancher, a bit of a reluctant cowboy, and kinky-patience is his middle name. I’ve never found just the right model to represent him, but this guy is close. Just put him in Montana in winter, on top of a horse, or commanding Matty in his bed, and you’ve got the idea, right?

leta blake mattyNow, let’s meet Matty. He’s a figure skater, a masochistic self-saboteur, and very good at being under Rob’s command, even if he’s not very good at being under anyone else’s. Put in as a fish-out-of water in Montana, in winter, on an icy pond, or letting Rob do kinky things to him, and you’ve got the idea.

Ok, so last warning. This is a hot, NSFW, super kinky scene.  Don’t read this at work or when your kids are peering over your shoulder. But do read it, because WOW is it hot!

Falling or Flying

A Deleted Scene from Training Season

Sometime after midnight, Matty was face down on the bed with his wrists tied to his ankles, and several pillows shoved under his torso, waiting to find out how Rob intended to finish the night. Sweat prickled over his back and forehead, and his saliva-wet ass twitched desperately, as he pushed his cock in slow circles against the pillows. Strung out and ready for something more, anything more, he begged softly, gripped his own ankles and moaned when Rob trailed a finger down his crack.

“Are you ready?” Rob asked, his voice a dark, patient, lusty thing that made Matty shiver.

“Yes,” Matty answered, simply, naked and vulnerable, tied down and pressed into honesty.

“Lift your head.”

Matty complied, disappointed that the finger in his ass he’d been hoping for wasn’t the “more” he’d agreed to. The soft black blindfold Rob tied on was completely new, unexpected, and exciting. Matty, swallowed by the total darkness, moved his head back and forth, trying to see some light, but the effect of the blindfold was complete. Matty tensed a little, struggling to submit, tempted to fight and try to get the blindfold off.

Rob murmured, “Shhhh,” as he massaged Matty’s head, neck, and shoulders, easing the tension away. Matty understood the command behind the hush and relaxed, trusting Rob to take care of him..

Rob straddled Matty’s back, his hard cock and soft balls pressing against Matty’s skin, and kissed his neck, moving to the sweet spot on the side that made Matty writhe and groan. Rob didn’t let up, rubbing his unshaven face against Matty’s neck and shoulder, kissing and biting the soft juncture as Matty pulled against the restraints. He ached with goodness, wanting to hold Rob’s mouth against that very spot, or buck and shove him away.

Matty shuddered and cried out as Rob kissed his neck, and was shocked when his open mouth was invaded by a ball gag. Rob’s fingers pushed it in gently, his mouth still working on Matty’s neck, and his cock and balls dragging in slow, humping lines up Matty’s back. When Matty grunted, the gag pushed against his tongue, and panic rose in his chest.

He could snap three times and it would end—the gag would be removed. He tugged at his restraints instead, trying to accept the gag, and breathing in sharp, scared breaths through his nose as Rob tightened the strap around Matty’s head, forcing the gag tight.

“Is it triggering your gag reflex?” Rob asked.

Matty shook his head, surprised that his lashes were already wet. He rubbed his face back and forth on the pillow.

“You’re very good at this. Show me how good you can be.” Rob rubbed his hands down Matty’s back.

Matty stopped tugging at the restraints, relaxing his hands into a soft grip around his ankles again, breathing through his nose in small, shuddering inhales and exhales, giving himself over. He shivered. It felt so good to give up, to stop fighting, and let Rob take it all.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Rob murmured, his mouth close to Matty’s neck, his breath hot and tingling. Matty wanted—Rob’s mouth on his neck, Rob’s cock in his ass, Rob’s hands on his hips pulling him back onto his shaft over and over—God, Matty wanted, but he had to wait.

Matty felt something cool and oblong being pressed into his hand.

“I’m telling you now so you aren’t distracted,” Rob said. “This is the key fob for my trunk. It’s parked just outside that window. There are two buttons—one to lock or unlock the truck, and the other is the panic button. If you push either, the horn will honk. It’s the safeword.”

Matty wanted to ask why snapping wasn’t enough. That had always been their safeword when Matty’s mouth was out of commission from Rob’s hand over it, or Rob’s cock stuffed in it. But he couldn’t ask—the ball gag did its job effectively.

Rob licked his way down Matty’s body, sucking kisses against his back, arms, and ass. Matty willed Rob to spread his cheeks and eat his hole some more. He begged him in his mind, whimpering and shaking his ass, trying to force Rob into giving it more attention.

Matty groaned in anticipation when Rob put a hand on either side and exposed his hole. Rob’s tongue and teeth made Matty crazy—made him quiver and shake. He went completely still, his heart pounding and his cock throbbing as Rob’s hot breath tickled his asshole. Then Rob’s tongue gently, gently pressed inside. Matty sighed in relief, and then garbled a choked, disappointed sound when Rob abruptly pulled his tongue away. Moments later something lubed and larger than a finger, but not as big as Rob’s cock, was pushing into Matty.

“Good boy,” Rob said, and he kissed Matty’s ass cheek.

Matty waited for something to happen—for Rob to fuck him with whatever was in his ass, or for it to vibrate, or something to take him that much closer to orgasm, but there was nothing. Rob massaged Matty’s thighs and back, and kissed his way up to Matty’s ear.

“Don’t fight it.” Rob licked Matty’s ear, down his neck, and sucked again at the place that made Matty wild.

God, that’s when he felt it, the pressure against his prostate and the rushing, always-surprising pleasure that consumed him and then ebbed away, only to rush over him again as the device in his ass pressed against his prostate again.

“Prostate stimulation,” Rob whispered. “Powered by the movements of your own body.”

Matty moved his hips, and daybreak pleasure swept over him. Shuddering, he moaned against the ball in his mouth. Rob’s mouth on his neck and hard cock moving against Matty’s hip made him squirm. Every movement, every trembling reaction seemed to echo in his ass. Matty blinked against the blindfold, seeing nothing, feeling everything, his mouth full of soft plastic, and his body flooding with a deep pool of want.

“Remember the safeword—the key fob in your hand,” Rob whispered, and suddenly Rob was gone.

Matty yelled out as the door to the bedroom shut, the gag muffling the noise, taking his sound of disappointment, confusion, and sudden fear. Silence filled his ears. He strained to hear Rob’s footsteps or movements in the house, but all he could hear was the hum of Rob’s air purifier. Matty’s pulse pounded in his throat as he waited.

After what seemed like forever his fear of being abandoned bloomed. He fought against the restraints, called out in muffled anger, and trembled as he finally stopped fighting. He gave up and collapsed against the pillow.

His ass clenched around the thickness stuffed into it. Matty felt sweat sliding down his ass crack and his neck, the small trickle of it a momentary distraction from the increasingly intense and confusing swells of pleasure from his prostate. He held as still as possible, hoping to get a reprieve from the insane-good-oh-fuck-yeah-oh-fuck-too-much of it, but his ass betrayed him. Every involuntary movement—each breath, each shift of his muscles, each blink of his eye—seemed connected to the muscles of his ass. They twitched, convulsed, and shuddered the thing into a constant massage of his prostate.

Matty slowed his breathing, only to be slammed by a wave of orgasmic sensation that rippled through him in slow motion, leaving him gasping and twisting, digging his nails into his ankle with one hand and gripping the key fob tightly with the other, terrified of dropping it.

Because if this went on, he might need it. He might really fucking need it. He didn’t know how much of this he could take. Matty tensed and then relaxed, turning his face into the pillow and holding on for dear life as another wave began. He cried out, feeling it break over him, losing control of his body as he jerked and shook through it. And then it was happening again. And again. And, oh God, again.

Darkness, sweat, and endless aching goodness that threaded through him, and over him, and in him, that broke him and made him cry and whimper, that left him limp and unable to fight it, unable to do anything but ride, ride, ride, and sometimes scream. Time was gone, and he was lost in it, focused on breathing through the sweetness that could turn so viciously good.

Swell over swell, his body fought for him even as he gave up, his legs and arms tugging, pulling at the rope that bound them together, his cock jerking until the pillow under him was wet and slippery with his pre-come. He shook against his will, whole body spasms that took him over as the glorious pleasure crashed through him.

It was forever, and it was terrifying, but Matty held out and, most of all, gave in, abandoning himself to the sensations. When the door opened, he had no idea how much time had passed, only that he was in the throes of another full-body spasm, and that he was screaming when Rob ran a hand down his back gently.

“Okay, sweetheart?”

Matty was definitely far from okay, but he didn’t know what side of the spectrum he fell on. One second he thought he’d die if it didn’t stop, and the next he was shaking with joy from it. He didn’t know what to do, and then he didn’t do anything because he was in the middle of it again, quaking and crying out wildly.

Rob’s hand on Matty’s back steadied him, and he was able to nod that, yes, he was okay once the storm passed.

“Can you handle more?”

Matty froze. He didn’t know if he could make that decision. His body and mind was consumed with what was happening to him already.

“I’ll go on, and you have the key fob. Use it if you need it, Matty. Promise me.”

Matty nodded.

The next overwhelming wave began, and Matty was trying to cope with it when a stinging, heavy thud slapped down on his back, and he convulsed under it. The sensation changed as what felt like hundreds of strands of soft leather smoothed and tickled down his side, and then, God, it was there again.

Rob started a pattern, the steady rhythm of it hard and hurting, but keeping him grounded, giving him something to count on as the ocean of pleasure tossed him up and down, drowning him and soaking him with saltwater sweat, leaving him snorting in air through his nose, and straining for the body jolt of the next slap of the flog.

“That’s it. So good. Just let it take you. Good boy.”

Matty wanted more than anything to hold Rob’s hand, to feel his fingers entwined with his own, but there was no way to tell him. No way to do anything but brace himself because the wave was coming again.

He breathed in through his nose, and then felt his body let go—jerk, convulse, scream, rock, hump, and then, God, ah, fuck, slam back into himself as the flog came down on his flesh.

Again, again, and again he flew with it, broke in descent, and came back with Rob’s commanding arm, until he was dissolved, converted into sensation and raw feeling.

“I want you to come,” Rob said. “Move against the pillow. I want to see you come now.”

Matty had been so focused on holding completely still between waves that he was afraid to rock his hips, afraid that he’d never come back from it, but Rob’s hands guided him to the rhythm. He shook his head hard, feeling sweat fly away as he struggled against the all-engulfing wave coming toward him with each thrust of his hips.

Rob held him to it, and Matty humped at the pillow in a mad, frantic, desperate rush, seeking orgasm before he was swallowed up again by the pleasure that just made him feel too much. And then he was caught up in it again, breathtaking and bigger than the sky, but Rob was pushing his hips, and his cock was sensitive and aching, and God, oh fuck.

He struggled to breathe because he couldn’t, and then it was everything, everywhere, exploding and screaming and shaking and his wrists hurt and his ankles pulled, and fuck, fuck, fuck, he was coming and blackness was all over him and in him. It was the scariest thing he’d ever felt as he shot his load and gave in to the rest of it, lost and completely consumed.

Rob’s hands on his ass, the removal of the device, and the release of the restraints from his arms and legs all happened in some weird haze where he wasn’t even sure he was awake. Then the gag was removed and the blindfold taken off, but Matty didn’t open his eyes, and he didn’t speak. He just turned over onto his back and let Rob hold him, stroke him, kiss his hair, and tell him over and over how wonderful he was.


The next morning, still wrung out and limp, Matty sipped his hot water with bitters while he watched Rob examine the calf, Alex, on the first day of the new year. The little guy was doing pretty well, and in a few years he’d get plenty of lady cow pootang. Though, if Matty were being completely honest, he did feel a bit of an affinity for the calf, and he was secretly glad that he would only be the father of future handbags and not a handbag himself.

He could feel that Rob’s attention was more on him than on the cow, though, and he wasn’t surprised when Rob abandoned little Alex and came over to put his arms around Matty, whispering, “I was in the room with you the whole time, you know. I wouldn’t leave you there alone like that. I just wanted you to think I’d left to heighten the moment. You were so sexy, Matty. It was all I could do to make you wait that long. I was going out of my mind watching you on the bed.”

Matty smiled and rubbed his face against Rob’s shirt, smelling hay, snow, and sunshine and even dirt, which was sexy and frustrating, because he was only supposed to have the hots for men who wore expensive cologne and lived in New York.

Rob kissed the top of his head and Matty murmured, “It’s not about that. That was amazing.”

Matty sighed and twisted away, turning his back on Rob, gazing out over the hill. “It’s just that it will never be like this again, will it?”

Rob knew what he meant and Matty was grateful. “I hope it will, but I don’t know.”

“Was it like this with…other people? It’s never been like this before for me.”

“It’s been good with other people, yeah. Not this good. But good.”

“Could you live without it?”

“If I have to,” Rob said.

Matty nodded and took a sip of his drink. He was starting to be afraid that this was it for him. That nothing else would ever be enough. That sex with anyone else would always be half-rate, boring, and, at best, charming. He didn’t want charming. He wanted to be fucked.

“And you?” Rob asked.

“I’d rather not have it at all than have it be less than this,” Matty said.

“Typical,” Rob murmured, not sounding pleased. “All or nothing.”

Matty murmured resentfully, “Congratulations, Mr. Lovely, you’ve achieved the Gold Medal for fucking. Top marks all around. No one does it better.”

Rob put his arm around him again, and said, “Let’s make brownies. They’ll make everything right again.”

“I can’t eat them,” Matty said.

“Right, but you can smell them.”

“Sadist.” Matty took Rob’s hand and walked toward the house. “It’s a good thing I like that about you.”

“Truly, it’s my best quality in your eyes,” Rob laughed.

Matty had to disagree, but he kept it to himself.

Rob’s best quality was how safe he made Matty feel. Loved, cared for, adored, and completely and totally safe. He was starting to fear what was coming more than he’d thought possible. He never thought he’d be loved so well and now he was choosing to turn his back on it. He was starting to loathe himself for it, and yet, it didn’t go away.


And that’s the scene that didn’t make it into the book! Comment below for a chance to win a copy of Training Season and find out which scenes actually made it through editing! I’ve been told they are in every way comparable to the one that got cut!

And if you end up checking out the Aneros device, either for yourself or a loved one, I hope you decide to make a detailed titillating post on their forum. Authors like me need more people to share that information for research. It’d be very helpful! You’d be doing the world a service! 😉


training seasonUnquestionably talented figure skater Matty Marcus is willing to sacrifice everything for his Olympic dream, but his lack of discipline cost him the gold once before. Now the pressure’s on. He needs a coach who can keep him in line, but top coaches don’t come cheap, and Matty can’t afford to stay in the game no matter how badly he wants to win.

When a lucrative house-sitting gig brings him to rural Montana, Matty does his best to maintain his training regimen. Local residents turn out to be surprisingly tolerant of his flamboyant style, especially handsome young rancher Rob Lovely, who proves to be much more than a cowboy stereotype. Just as Matty requires a firm hand to perform his best on the ice, Rob shows him how strong he can be when he relinquishes control in the bedroom. With new-found self-assurance, he drives himself harder to go straight to the top.

But competition has a timetable, and to achieve his Olympic dream, Matty will have to join his new coach in New York City, leaving Rob behind. Now he must face the ultimate test. Has he truly learned how to win—on and off the ice—during his training season?

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Leta is offering up a copy of Training Season to one lucky reader. Just leave a comment below to enter. The contest closes on Thursday, January 9th at 11:59 pm EST.

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