Get Stranded With A Naughty Gay Hacker

We all know I love a good antihero. Mr. Lavender began as a request from a lovely pervy reader and quickly took my breath away and gave me the tingles. From your messages, tweets and reviews, it seems he’s made quite an impression on my readers as well. He’s just so bad and doesn’t give one single fuck. But another antihero from In The Kill and Hide And Kill caught our eye. Reginald’s cheeky, flirty lack of filter and devotion to Lavender was too adorable to resist and I decided he needed to have a few adventures of his own.


Not actually Reginald but a gorgeous boy who happens to look very much like Reginald.

Reginald’s a very different kind of character and his is a very different sort of story. I thought I’d give you a peek at Mr. Harcourt And The Hurricane but in case you haven’t met Reginald from In TheKill and Hide And Kill, I thought we’d start with his first appearance and a short excerpt from In The Kill:

Lavender offered a salute as he turned toward the elevator. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave Sage a playful wink as the doors opened then stepped inside. The doors shut and his smile vanished as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He found his assistant and glared at the lighted numbers next to the elevator door as they lit up in descending order.

“Madame Reggie, mistress of the beyond, shall I consult the spirits and tell you what the future holds?” Reginald asked and Lavender sighed impatiently.

“Now is not the time,” he muttered as the doors opened and he strode out quickly, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone he passed.

“Did you find him?” Reginald asked and Lavender’s lips pulled tight as he hurried down the sidewalk to his car.

“I found him but I couldn’t do it,” he said as he unlocked the door and opened it.

“What happened? He wasn’t alone?” Reginald asked and Lavender scowled as he sat and closed the door behind him.

“He was alone,” he said.

“I don’t understand,” Reginald replied and Lavender stretched his neck as he started the car.

“He volunteers to help homeless teens, reads and knits for the elderly and saved children in Africa,” he complained and Reginald was silent for several moments.

“Did you ask if he has a brother?” He said and Lavender rolled his eyes.

“Why would I ask him that?”

“Why did you ask him anything? You’re usually in and out before they have a chance to beg or cry,” he said. “You’re neat and it’s more humane if they’re not freaking out,” he added and Lavender nodded in agreement.

“It’s so much easier if they don’t know it’s coming. But he had no clue. I was about to take out my gun and he started talking about homeless kids. He gave his cat CPR. I couldn’t do it,” he admitted and Reginald gasped.

“Are you telling me you have a conscience, sir?” He asked in mock horror and Lavender’s lips pulled into a wry grin.

“Killing a man who rescues kittens and worries about old people being cold is my limit, it seems. I need to know who hired me and what Sage Bradley did,” he said.

“I’ll see what I can find. How much time do I have?”

“Four hours. He invited me for dinner. Whatever you find out will determine how the night goes,” he said and Reginald purred.

“Whatever you decide, you should get laid first,” he suggested and Lavender smiled as he glanced at the rearview mirror.

“I’m not a slut, Reginald,” he replied and there was a snort.

“I am. Do it for me,” Reginald whined and Lavender shushed him.

“Let’s see what you can find out. There’s a hit on Mr. Bradley. Just because I decide not to kill him doesn’t mean someone else won’t. It might not be in my best interest to hang around.”

Then, Reginald stole the scene in Hide And Kill and nearly gave poor Aiden a heart attack:

There was a loud buzz and Aiden swore under his breath when he spotted a phone flashing on the kitchen counter.

“Your phone’s ringing,” he called as he drifted into the living room but Lane and Lavender were already at the end of the driveway. He chewed on his thumbnail as he approached the counter then frowned as a picture of a much younger man was displayed on the screen. He had a nose ring and spiked blue hair and aside from a smiley face emoji over his crotch and a very naughty grin, he was naked. “Ummm…” Aiden clapped his hand over his mouth and stared at the phone as it continued to buzz violently. “Why is a naked man calling Lavender?” He worried out loud then shook his hands nervously as he looked back at the door. “I really don’t want to know but what if Sage needs to know and I’m supposed to tell him?” He bit his lip hard then reached for the phone. He swiped and his hand shook as he raised it to his ear. “Hello?” He asked carefully but there was only silence. “Hello?” He repeated then waited. He was just about to hang up when he heard a throat clear softly and an explosion of rapid typing.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” a very British voice said briskly. “Is there a dead or unconscious but super fit gentleman in an impeccably cut suit in your immediate area. If there is, I need you to stay quiet and do as you’re told. If you help me, you’ll never have to worry about money again but you’re going to have to trust me and move quickly,” he said and Aiden pulled the phone away from his head and stared at it in horror and confusion before putting it back to his ear.

“No one is dead or unconscious,” he said and there was a very loud sigh.

“Very good. Second protocol,” he mumbled to himself as he continued to type. “If you have somehow stolen this phone or happened upon it, I would advise you to put it back and get very far away from it. Now,” he advised and Aiden’s head snapped to the front windows as tires screeched and he glared at Lavender’s back as he waved at the car as it sped off.

“I know who this phone belongs to. He stepped outside but he’ll be back soon,” Aiden said and there was an excited gasp and the typing stopped.

“Are you the man currently having sex with the owner of this phone?” He whispered loudly and Aiden’s eyes flared as he shook his head quickly. “I have sooooo many questions. Before he gets back, I need to know if he only wears the underwear I send him or if he slips into something a little more…off road, if you know what I mean,” he purred and a squeak escaped from Aiden as he watched Lane and Lavender marching up the lawn.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he whispered back. “Is there a third protocol because I don’t want to be involved in this phone call anymore,” he said and looked longingly at the door. “Can you just quietly wait until he gets back?” He asked.

“I suppose. This has never happened before,” he replied and Aiden recalled that he was supposed to be looking out for Sage.

“Who are you?” He asked as Lane entered.

“You’d think I was joking but if I told you, he’d probably kill you,” he said.

I left you two screenshot teasers in a previous post and in them we learned that Reginald got himself in a bit of trouble and was being sent away to clear his head and think about what he’s done. It’s not quite the relaxing getaway Lavender planned… Here’s a very early, barely edited excerpt:

“I’m sorry, are you speaking French? Is this a bloody French Island?” Reginald complained to the woman at the counter. “Merde,” he cursed as he threw his hands up. “He is punishing me,” he said and she blinked back at him in confusion. “Fuck, I hate the French,” he muttered as he squared up to the counter and tried to recall the word for Luggage.

“Mr. Harcourt?” A voice called and Reginald dismissed it as he pushed his brain to find the word.

A torrent of numbers, images and texts filled his vision and he squinted as he strained for it. A cargo ship’s itinerary flashed then a string of code and Reginald shook his head to clear it. His ears rang and his vision blurred and somehow, his eyes felt like they were full of sand and he’d only been in the Caribbean for fifty minutes.

“Mr. Harcourt!” The voice insisted.

“Yes! That’s me!” Reginald recalled as he turned. His brows jumped then his lips curved wickedly. “Hello, I’m Slade Harcourt,” he said smoothly as he offered his hand to a very tall, very fit and very handsome man. His dark hair hung in soft waves that fell along his obscenely square jaw. Thick brows pulled together and he pushed his hair away from his face then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

“That’s not the name I have,” he murmured to himself. “It says Walter Harcourt,” he said then looked at Reginald expectantly.

“There’s a first name?” He asked as he craned his neck to see over the top of the page and his new friend’s eyes narrowed as he folded it.

“There is…” He said hesitantly and Reginald titled forward.

“I’ve always hated that name. Slade seems more dashing, doesn’t it?” He asked and his friend’s eyes flicked to Reginald’s ice blue hair then slowly traveled down his body before he shook his head.

“Whatever. I’m Hayes, the resort sent me to collect you and your luggage,” he explained and Reginald waved at the counter.

“I was attempting to find my luggage but there seems to be a misunderstanding,” he said and there was an exasperated sigh as Hayes stepped past him and smiled at the woman behind the counter. Reginald’s head bounced back and forth as Hayes and the woman parle français-ed rapidly. He struggled to follow then smacked himself in the forehead. “Bagage! Why couldn’t I remember that?” He asked but Hayes shook his head dismissively.

“It’s not here,” he said then turned from the desk.

“What do you mean it isn’t here?” Reginald asked as he followed and Hayes shrugged.

“Your bagage isn’t here,” he replied and Reginald stopped.

“He said it would be here. I was supposed to have clothes, toiletries and at least my laptop,” he said and Hayes sighed impatiently as he turned back to Reginald.

“You can get most of that at the resort,” he said then gestured for him to follow.

“Most of it?” He asked as he hurried after him.

“Computers are pretty scarce and the internet is like 1995. It’s still dial-up here so you’re probably better off without your laptop,” he said as he held open the door and Reginald’s heart sank as he stepped out. He’d prayed the tiny, crude airport wasn’t an indication of the rest of the island but his hopes disintegrated as his eyes swept past small, brightly painted shacks and ancient colonial buildings. The few cars he could see were several years older than him and there were various species of animals wandering freely. And the heat. Reginald felt like his clothes were melting, they clung to his body and were heavy as his socks filled with sweat.

“He wants me to die,” he whispered as he looked around. “He’s forsaken me.”

“It’s a lot nicer once we get on the resort,” Hayes called as he hurried away from the airport. “We should hurry, if you want to make it there before the storm,” he added and Reginald’s head jerked back and he frowned at the sky.

“It looks a bit gloomy but I can’t imagine it’s that serious. And a bit windy,” he noted and Hayes snorted.

“You aren’t in England, Slade,” he said as he dodged a scooter and hurried toward the marina. “Grey and windy isn’t what you want this time of year.” He fished a set of keys from his pocket as he briskly made his way down the dock.

“But it’s not too abnormal?” Reginald asked warily then waited as Hayes jumped onto the deck of a smallish but newer boat then offered Reginald his hand. He thought about declining but the boat bounced and bumped against the dock, making him much less confident. He took Hayes’ hand then stepped down and hummed silkily before he released it. “Would you be considered one of the resort’s amenities?” He asked and he caught a hint of a sneer from Hayes.

“Probably not,” he said before he stepped back and reached for the controls. Reginald cleared his throat softly and did his best to stay on his feet as the boat pulled away from the dock.

“Not that I’m implying you’re in the habit of servicing guests…” He explained and Hayes shook his head but didn’t respond. “I suppose it would have been better to ask if you spend much of your free time at the resort.”

“Everyone spends most of their free time on the resort. All the decent bars and restaurants are there. And most of the people on the island work there,” he said absently as his eyes spread across the water. “All of the boats are coming in,” he murmured.

“Would you be interested in spending time in a less public part of the resort?” Reginald offered suggestively but Hayes didn’t respond.

“We’re going to have to go around the back of the island,” he said as he steered the boat in a wide arc then sped toward the marina and airport.

“This isn’t the backside of the island?” Reginald muttered.

“Most people don’t visit Sainte Thérèse for its wild nightlife or posh dining and spas,” he said loudly and Reginald realized the wind had picked up considerably.

“Is there a wild nightlife and posh restaurants?” He asked and Hayes grinned. It was the first time he’d smiled and it made certain parts tingly and warm.

“Nope,” he said then waved toward land. “They come for the immaculate beaches and peace and quiet. And the diving. Half of Sainte Thérèse’s beauty is in the water,” he explained as he steered closer to the shore. “I don’t like this,” he said under his breath and Reginald was about to ask what he was referring to when they came around the more mountainous part of the island.

“What the fuck is that?” Reginald asked as they stared at what he could only describe as a dark, frothing mushroom cloud.

“Could be a three,” Hayes said as he turned the boat in another large arc.

“A three?” Reginald yelled as he grabbed the windshield. “Why are you turning around?” He asked and Hayes’ lips pulled tight.

“It’s a hurricane and we’re not going to make it to the resort,” he stated.

“What?” Reginald demanded and Hayes shrugged as he hurried away from the storm.

“We have two seasons here, Slade. Lent and Hurricane. You arrived dead in the middle of hurricane season,” he explained as he sped toward the shore. For a moment, all Reginald could see was trees and he thought Hayes was going to land them on the beach then relaxed when he spotted a cove.

“Where are we going?” He asked as he scanned. The cove was tiny and secluded. Aside from a small, ancient wrecked yacht and two shipping containers, there was nothing. He felt a little less nervous about the storm in the cove. The trees were so dense around them, aside from the wild ruffling of leaves, he could almost believe it was just very late in the evening.

“There,” Hayes said as he pointed at the yacht and Reginald’s face scrunched.

“Why in the hell would we…”

“I live there,” Hayes said and Reginald swallowed hard.

“I mean, why in the hell wouldn’t we stop here? This all looks…safe-ish.”

“It’s about as safe as any other place on the island but you’re welcome to drive yourself to the resort on this tiny, capsize-able lightning magnet,” he suggested and Reginald looked back over his shoulder. He couldn’t see the storm but the sky was getting darker by the minute and he could hear the wind lashing at the trees outside the cove.

“Here is fine,” he said and Hayes grinned again.

“I’m glad you approve. Hang on,” he said and Reginald had just enough time to grab a handle and the top of the windshield before Hayes gunned the engine. The boat shot forward then jerked hard as it hit the sand. Reginald grunted as his shoulder clipped the windshield and would have complained but Hayes cut off the boat and ran to the back. “I had to get this as far onshore as I could. Help me push this so I can chain it to the trees,” he ordered and Reginald gave him a dubious look.

“You want me to help push this?” He asked and Hayes shook his head in disbelief before he jumped off the boat. The water was up to his hips and Reginald winced as he relocated his phone.

“Unless you want to swim to the resort or cut through the jungle, you’ll help me tie it down. You might also want to consider our chances if the wind picks this thing up and throws it into my house,” he said and Reginald thought he was being a bit generous, calling it a house.

“Let’s tie her up,” he agreed and Hayes gestured for him to get off the boat. Reginald took a deep breath and was about to jump when he winked at Hayes. “I think that’s the first and only time I’ll ever say that,” he said then lowered until he was sitting.

“Are you always like this?” Hayes asked as Reginald slid into the water. He gasped as his feet sunk into the sand.

“It’s warm as piss,” he observed and Hayes raised a brow.

“Spend a lot of time standing around in piss?” He asked and Reginald chuckled.

“I’ve been to some amazing parties,” he said as he followed Hayes’ lead and set his shoulder against the side of the boat then pushed. “Am I always like what?” He asked.

“Wait for the tide, then push hard,” he said and Reginald nodded. The waves rolled toward them and Reginald waited until the water carried him into the boat to lean. “Obnoxious, spoiled, never serious…” Hayes said and Reginald laughed as the boat slid a few feet. “Can you reach the chain?” Hayes asked.

“Definitely,” Reginald said as he jumped and blindly swatted at the deck until his hand landed on the chain. “And I found the chain,” he yelled as he dragged it over the side. The storm was getting closer. The wind raged as the air filled with flying bits of foliage and debris.

By the time they were satisfied the boat was as secure as they could make it, they were drenched. Reginald felt raw as the wind and rain stung his skin and had to shield his eyes to see. He couldn’t find the dry-docked yacht and relied on Hayes to push him in the right direction. As they drew closer, Reginald could make out steps and a deck of sorts around the yacht.

“In here!” Hayes yelled as he held open the door and Reginald gasped as the wind threw him into Hayes. They slipped and Hayes shoved him though the door as they fell. Reginald crawled on his hands and knees until he found a wall and waited as Hayes barricaded the door and switched on a flashlight. Reginald blinked as his vision returned then carefully stood as Hayes latched the windows and quickly duct taped cardboard over them.

“This is…nice,” Reginald murmured as he took in the tiny kitchen, tiny seating area and tiny bathroom. “Sort of,” he added and Hayes snorted.

“I won it in a poker game and it was easier than building a house. I was only planning to stay for two years,” he explained as he scooted past Reginald and made his way through the galley kitchen. He pushed open a door and signaled for Reginald to follow him through what was once a bedroom. It was full of books and stacks of papers.

“You don’t sleep?” Reginald asked.

“Of course I do,” Hayes said as he threw back a curtain and stepped through a dark hole. A moment later, light spilled through the hole and Reginald followed.

“We’re in the storage container?” He asked as he stared in shock. Aside from the metal panel walls, it was unrecognizable. Aquariums lined the long walls and a desk with two computers and two microscopes sat at one end. A large dry erase board covered the opposite wall and Reginald’s eyes absorbed the dates, measurements and notes. “Data,” he whispered. “Is this a hobby or something for the resort?” He asked.

“I don’t work for the resort,” Hayes said absently as he picked up a clipboard and Reginald backed toward the door.

“Ummmm…?” Reginald discreetly pulled his phone from his pocket then cursed under his breath. “Of course there’s no signal. He could have just killed me in London. Why did he have to send me all the way to this miserable French shit heap of an island?” He grumbled to himself and Hayes looked up briefly then rolled his eyes.

“I’m friends with the manager at the resort. They only have two boats. One’s waiting for a part and the other was on its way to St. Barthélemy. A guest needed to be rushed to the hospital so he called me and asked if I’d make the run,” he explained and Reginald relaxed and leaned against the wall.

“That was kind of you. I think,” he said as he watched Hayes dart around the room, checking aquariums and scribbling feverishly. “Do you have to do that now? Shouldn’t we be preparing for the storm?” He asked.

“The power is going to go out any time now. Once it does, all of this is dead. We can’t do anything but wait so I might as well get as much work done as I can before all of this is gone,” he said and Reginald’s mouth fell open as he looked around.

“Can’t you do something? How can you work like this?” He asked and Hayes raised a shoulder before he bent forward and looked into a microscope.

“It’s all part of the charm,” he mumbled and Reginald frowned.

“What charm?” He asked and Hayes sighed as he scribbled then darted past Reginald on his way to another aquarium. As far as Reginald could tell, they were all full of aquatic plants.

“It may not seem like much to you, but Sainte Thérèse’s special. The forest is almost untouched. No one knows it’s here so we aren’t mobbed by tourists but we get enough to keep the economy strong. When there isn’t a hurricane, the views are breathtaking and the diving is incredible. The island’s a little rustic and technologically stunted but I like that. People talk to each other instead of their phones and they aren’t tethered to their computers. It’s rustic and a lot of work, but it’s worth it,” he said and Reginald raised a brow.

“You have two computers and various gadgets,” he pointed out and Hayes nodded.

“One of those is broken but I keep it because it’s got years of data trapped inside of it. The other one’s slow and it’s a good day if I can connect to the internet but that’s the tradeoff,” he explained and Reginald shook his head.

“How do you get anything done if you have to start over every time the power goes out and you don’t have access to the internet?” He asked.

“I tell myself it’s like doing another trial. If I was back at the university, I’d have to do numerous trials. This is like that. It’s not really starting over, it’s seeing if I get the same results. Still science,” he said. “And I spend more time on the beach and in the water than I do in here. I love my office,” Hayes added and Reginald exhaled loudly as he pushed his hands in his pockets.

“I suppose. Is there something I can help with?” He asked and Hayes shook his head. The lights flickered as wind and debris slammed into the side of the container.

“Just make yourself comfortable. Quietly. I’m going to record as much as I can until everything shuts down,” he said and Reginald chewed his lip as he looked around.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a mini bar in the other storage container, would you? I’d do shameful things for a decent martini,” He said and Hayes smirked.

“There’s a fridge and you’re welcome to whatever you find,” he said then waved at another curtain behind the desk before he went back to ignoring Reginald.

Reginald peeked behind the curtain and was impressed again. Aside from a few patches of rust and the rows of rivets on the walls, it felt like a bedroom. A sparse and rather homely bedroom but still more comfortable than Reginald was expecting. A double bed was shrouded in mosquito netting and occupied about a third of the space. An ancient, dust covered television, a hideous chair and a lamp filled the opposite end of the room along with an older, full sized refrigerator and table. He cheered under his breath as he spotted bottles of liquor on the table.

“Dear God in the manger, if you could just give me a few ice cubes and some vodka, I will pray to Mecca ten times a day and kiss a rabbi,” he promised before he pulled open the freezer. The stale trace of something that rotted decades earlier made Reginald’s head snap back and he gasped before he slammed it shut.

“The freezer doesn’t work,” Hayes called and Reginald glared in his direction.

“Please tell me you have vodka. It doesn’t even have to be good vodka, just any vodka. Or another alcohol that starts with a V…” He begged under his breath as he reached for the bottles on the table. Rum. Rum. Rum. And rum. “What kind of hell is this?” He cried.

“What?” Hayes asked as his head poked into the room.

“Why are all of these rum?” He whimpered and Hayes’ eyes flicked to the ceiling.

“Everyday rum, company rum, holiday rum and after the power goes out rum. You’re in the Caribbean, Slade. Catholicism, Voodoo and rum are the official religions of the islands,” he said then disappeared.

“I hope I drown tonight,” Reginald decided as he picked up a bottle and read it. Rhum. St. Thérèse. “This sounds promising,” he muttered to himself then picked up another bottle. More Rhum. St. Thérèse. “These are all the same!” He complained.

“Yup,” Hayes replied and Reginald said every curse word he’d ever learned, almost simultaneously as he twisted off a cap then took a long drink.

Instead of the usual iodine, camphor balls and turpentine, there was a floral sweetness and spices. His throat and sinuses were on fire but it was a lovely burn. Like sinking into a tub that’s a bit too hot or impatiently waving frozen hands over a fire. Fuck, he missed being cold. There was a sudden swell of noise and several large things crashed into the side of the container before the lights flickered then went out. Reginald was a bit surprised by the soft, sympathetic groan that escaped him.

“That’s it,” Hayes said as he pushed back the curtain.

“I’m sorry,” Reginald said and Hayes held up his hands.

“That’s nature. I’ll go out and get new samples and start over tomorrow, or whenever this lets up. And the ocean’s wild after a hurricane or typhoon. Everything gets stirred up and cut loose. You’ve got tremendous temperature shifts and salinity fluctuations. I can gather algae samples I wouldn’t normally find,” he explained and Reginald raised a brow.

“You’re really excited about algae,” he said and Hayes nodded as he reached for a bottle of rum.

“I am. Marine algae has antioxidant and anti-neuroinflammatory properties. It also promotes cholinesterase inhibitory activity and the inhibition of neuronal death. I think it could help slow or reverse Alzheimer’s,” he said and Reginald’s head pulled back in surprise.

“That’s incredible,” he said as Hayes pulled out the cork and took a long drink. He sighed contentedly as he leaned against the wall then slid to the floor.

“And it’s abundant and renewable. As long as we don’t kill the oceans by polluting them,” he said and Reginald raised his bottle in agreement then took another sip. The heat spread down his throat and through his limbs and he hummed softly as he lowered and sat cross legged on the floor.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you working out of a tetanus infested lean-to made of marine wreckage and aluminum?” He asked. “Why aren’t you receiving more funding? This seems really important,” he added and Hayes chuckled softly.

“Until someone discovers that algae can cure erectile dysfunction, I have to beg the university to pay me enough to eat and keep the lights on.”

“When they actually work,” Reginald added and Hayes winked before he raised the bottle to his lips. He drank then let his head fall back against the wall. Reginald let his eyes roam around the room. They went to the bed and he sighed.

“This wouldn’t be half as bad if you were into men,” he murmured and there was another snort from Hayes.

“I’ve had sex with men. I think I’ve dated as many men as I have women,” he said and Reginald frowned.

“But you said…”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hayes replied. “I’m just not into you,” he said and Reginald laughed incredulously.

“You can’t be serious,” he said and Hayes shrugged.

“You’re not really my type,” he stated and Reginald’s eyes widened.

I’m not your type?” He asked in disbelief and Hayes nodded. Reginald shook his head. “It must be the storm or you’ve spent too much time looking at algae. I’ll have you know I have been proposed to by eleven different men. One was a prince,” he boasted and Hayes’ brows jumped.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” Reginald said as he reclined on an elbow.

“Are you incapable of committing or is it because you’re too high maintenance?” Hayes asked and Reginald’s lips twisted as he considered.

“Maybe both?” He offered and Hayes laughed. Reginald’s feet were beginning to tingle and his limbs felt heavier. His clothes were damp and still clinging and he was exhausted but he was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself. “What’s wrong with you? I’m irresistible. And I’m amazing in bed,” he said and Hayes rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you are. What about him?” He asked and Reginald blinked back at him.

“Him?” He asked and Hayes waved vaguely.

“You keep complaining about him so I figured he was your boyfriend or husband,” he said and Reginald smiled dreamily.

“He’s my employer. Not that I haven’t hoped and tried,” he admitted.

“So, you’re not his type either,” he pointed out and Reginald pulled a face.

“It seems he’s into the naive, altruistic type,” he muttered and Hayes nodded.

“That’s more my speed too. And Latin,” he said and Reginald lifted his bottle in salute.

“I’m a sucker for the swarthy, hot-tempered type. Powerful, dangerous men are my weakness,” he stated and Hayes looked dubious.

“Run into a lot of those?” He asked sarcastically and Reginald winked.

“You’d be surprised,” he murmured then drank. Hayes yawned then slowly rose to his feet.

“I think we should try to get some sleep. We don’t know what tomorrow’s going to look like. The whole thing might blow past us or we could take a direct hit,” he warned and Reginald became alert.

“Blow past us? This isn’t the hurricane?” He asked just as something large and solid hit the roof. Hayes shook his head then stretched.

“You’ll know if it goes over us,” he said as he stripped off his shirt and Reginald stifled a groan. Hayes’ skin was warm and shined with perspiration and his chest, stomach and arms were well defined. He had just enough chest hair and Reginald’s cheek itched to rub against it and warmth spilled into his groin as he imagined following the soft trail of hair that disappeared into the drooping waist of his khaki shorts.

“How?” Reginald asked hoarsely then bit his lip as Hayes turned his back and his shorts fell. He was wearing plaid boxers and like Reginald’s they were damp and clung to his delightfully tight, round ass.

“Well… It’ll sound and feel like this container’s been hit by a train before it comes apart,” he said then tossed Reginald a pillow.

“Are you sure we should go to sleep?” He asked as he hugged it to his chest and Hayes snorted.

“Trust me, you won’t sleep through it and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. There’s the chair or I’ve got a sleeping bag in the trunk,” he said and Reginald’s nose scrunched as he glanced at the chair.

“I’ll take the chair,” he said then trudged across the room.

“Sleep tight,” Hayes said as he sat on the bed then reached for a book and a small flashlight.

Reginald nodded as he turned the chair so he could prop his feet on the trunk then considered his own attire. Then, he considered the chair. It was a wretched avocado green floral print and it smelled like someone’s nana died in it before it spent decades in a bog. He peeled his damp shirt off and draped it over the back of the chair then stripped off his pants and spread them over the seat. He looked over his shoulder and Hayes didn’t seem very interested or concerned with anything other than his book. Reginald muttered a curse under his breath as he slowly lowered onto the seat and eased back, doing his best to touch as little of the chair as possible, while sitting in it. He wedged the pillow behind his shoulder and put his feet on the trunk and wiggled slightly, in an absurd attempt to get comfortable.

He shut his eyes and let out a long, cleansing breath, trying to ignore the howling wind and driving rain beating against the side of the container. He tried very hard not to think about the chair and was doing well before a horrible thought tickled the back of his brain. He shook his head, pushing it away but it drifted closer. How many bugs live in this thing?

“Noooo!” He yelled as he jumped to his feet and shivered as he scratched at his arms and neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life but I can’t sleep in that,” he said as he pointed at the chair. Hayes lowered the book and stared at Reginald.

“What’s wrong with the chair?” He asked and Reginald threw his hands up.

“Aside from the fact that it feels like it’s upholstered in shaved pubic hairs and smells like rotting meat?” He asked in disbelief and Hayes let out a weary sigh.

“You can sleep in the bed but stay on your side. If you try anything amazing, you’ll find yourself outside with the sleeping bag,” he warned and Reginald grabbed the pillow and dashed across the room.

“You won’t even know I’m here,” he promised as he tossed the pillow on the bed then crawled to it. Hayes grumbled something under his breath then turned a page and went back to ignoring Reginald. “In fact, I’m just about gone,” Reginald sighed as he shut his eyes and hugged the pillow. It was probably the most uncomfortable bed in existence but it was clean and dry and didn’t reek. “Thank you, Hayes,” he mumbled just before he faded.

I can’t wait for you to join Reginald on his adventure! Mr. Harcourt And The Hurricane is a stand-alone story featuring a few cameos from Lavender, if you’d like to skip ahead and enjoy some pure unadulterated Reginald.


Find him here!:


If you haven’t had a chance to meet Reginald and Mr. Lavender yet, you can catch up with them in In The Kill and Hide And Kill. 


Get it here!:

Then, you have to read Hide And Kill. Especially if you’re an Aiden and Lane fan! I think Lavender and Lane might be my favorite duo. Ever.


Get it here!:

As always, you can find all of my adorable dirty mens on Amazon:

Get Stranded With A Naughty Gay Hacker

6 thoughts on “Get Stranded With A Naughty Gay Hacker

  1. Judi says:

    My hubby just asked if I’ve gotten anything new from my naughty girl. I said not yet, he says well you know it’s gonna be worth it. I say yes it will be. He says don’t go and tell your naughty girl. But how can I not , the conversation was way too much fun he was so serious lol


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s