“No, that didn’t work.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads


Dr. Rayburn turned to write on the chalkboard, the planes of his lean shoulders and back accentuated as he stretched upward. “Can anyone tell me how the British secured their colonies in India?” He turned back to survey the lecture hall, playing with the piece of chalk as he waited patiently for a volunteer. The movements of his hands drew my attention to the lightly tanned forearms underneath his rolled up sleeves.

Why did he have to be so damn fine?

I wouldn’t be this distracted if crotchety old Dr. Collins taught the class. Heck, I might even get an A. I really liked history, but Dr. Rayburn had my mind wandering to what was hiding in those worn jeans or how he might look on his knees, his mouth wrapped– Shit! I had to get a grip. I exhaled and pulled out my collar.

“Mr. Meyers?” His voice jolted me out of my daydream.

“Um. Yes?” My face flushed.

“You okay up there?”

“Yes professor.” I attempted a weak smile.

“Good. Answer the question.”

Crap. What was the question again? Colonies? India?

“Uh…very carefully?” Jokes diffused the tension, right?

A couple students chuckled, but Dr. Rayburn didn’t crack a smile. No, that didn’t work.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, ignoring the joke completely.

I shook my head.

“Stick around after class and we’ll discuss your lack of focus.” He said and quickly moved on.

Fuck. Well, I guess that’s one way to spend time with the hot professor.


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“Perhaps we should start again?” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads


“Just walk over and say hello. How hard is that?” Kelsey rolled her eyes, buffing the bar with a rag.

Jace swallowed, his gaze locked on the sexiest, most elegantly dressed man he’d ever seen sitting at a table nearby, nose in a book. “But he’s so…”

“Classy? Suave? Sophisticated?” Kelsey offered, putting a hand on her hip.

“Yes…and out of my league.” He sighed, looking down at his rumpled jeans and scuffed up sneakers.

Kelsey groaned. “Oh stop. Who cares if you’re not all dressed up. This IS a coffee bar! Maybe he came straight from work or maybe he’s waiting for—.“

“Someone? Like a date? Perfect.”

“Not necessarily,” she backpedaled. “He could be meeting his boss? Sister? Or mother!?”

“Right.” This time Jace rolled his eyes.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Kelsey came around and pulled him off the stool with an amazing amount of strength. “Now go.” On “go” she gave him a hefty shove.

And suddenly he was careening haphazardly toward Elegant Man’s table.

Elegant Man had only a moment to look up and jump back before Jace landed belly first on the table, sending the man’s coffee cascading across the floor.

Jace’s face went hot as he got up, tripping over apologies. Kelsey ran over to make sure he was okay before cleaning up the mess.

A hand covered his and he realized it was Elegant Man’s. “Perhaps, we should start again?”

Jace smiled at the concern in the man’s eyes. “Yes please.”


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“Shit, that’s nice.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads


Ken stood alone until the bathroom door banged open and a young, disheveled man raced to the urinal beside him, cursing under his breath with each step.

The man unzipped as if he was fumbling to diffuse a ticking time bomb.

Ken smirked at the mirror in front of him. Been there.

“Holy shit, that’s nice,” the man exhaled as a consistent stream splashed against the porcelain.

Ken finished and zipped up.

“The band’s brilliant. So brilliant I forgot to take care of business.”

Ken turned to smile at him. “Glad you think so.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “Wait! Are you…!?”

“Ken Cross. I’d shake your hand, but…”

The young man zipped up hastily and pulled him into a big hug. “You’re my idol! I love Death Punch, but you’re my fav. You shred like a madman!”

Ken didn’t normally like to be touched by strangers, even fans, but the guy’s enthusiasm was cute. Okay, maybe this guy was cute, too. “Thanks. Hey, you want to come backstage and hang with us?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Ken shook his head, amused.

“Can I grab my friends?”

“Sure. Bring them on back and tell John, the bouncer – rainbow. He’ll let you in.”

“Awesome,” the young man whispered, but furrowed his brow. “But why me?”

“Cause I was just like you a few years back. So into the music I could burst. And well, you’re hot, too.”

The man’s cheeks flushed and he bit his lip as he left.


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“What do you mean?” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads

ThursThreads Winner

“If we’re going to work together you can’t keep looking at me like that.” Jax wiped his brow, his tanned chest glistening in the sun as he stopped shoveling.

“What—“ Mike’s voice cracked. Smooth, Mike. Real smooth. He cleared his throat. “Um…what do you mean?” He didn’t think Jax noticed.

Jax smiled and leaned toward him. He smelled like earth and sweat and…“Your eyes say you want to bend me over that tree trunk over there and have your way with me.”

God! How the heck did he–? “Don’t be ridiculous. My eyes aren’t saying anything,“ Mike replied, but the tremble in his voice dashed any semblance of conviction he might have had.

“No?” Jax tossed the shovel aside and came at him, making Mike backpedal until he hit the solid barrier of the retaining wall. Jax flattened his palms on either side of Mike’s head and pressed in close. So close Mike could feel Jax’s sweat through his clothes. Shit, that’s nice.

“I’m sorry! I’ll try to keep my eyes from saying such vulgar things.” Mike squeezed his eyes shut.

Small puffs of hot air caressed Mike’s cheek as Jax chuckled. “I should have said, if we’re going to work together you can’t keep looking at me like that and not do anything about it.”

Mike’s eyes flew open to see Jax smiling slyly. “Fuck…” Mike whispered before covering Jax’s mouth with his.


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“Things you wish you hadn’t done.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads


I awoke to bright sunlight and a sweaty arm around my waist.


I turned my head slowly and squinted.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Tom lay there asleep, face down on the pillow, mouth open and drooling.

Tom, my ex.

Memories pounded at my skull like a jackhammer. The fight with Jace. Walking out. Calling Tom. Drinking and dancing at the club until I couldn’t see straight.

The rest was fuzzy. Like my mouth.

Something buzzed on the floor and I rolled over to find my jeans in a crumpled pile. I reached down to pull my phone out of the pocket. My head roared.

Where are you? – read the text from Jace.

Tom groaned next to me. “What the-?” He croaked, squinting at me.

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Fuuuuck!” He pushed himself up and held his head.

“Yeah, that too.”

“What time is it?”

“Nine,” I said, putting my feet on the floor. Shit, just moving hurt.

Tom sighed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t help.”

I attempted a chuckle. “No, but I’m not going to blame my problems on you.”

“What are you going to tell Jace?”

“The truth. That it was one of those things you wish you hadn’t done.”

“You think he’ll dump you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what he’ll do.” My phone buzzed again. “Maybe that’s part of the problem.”


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