Blow My Whistle by Gin LaSalle

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About the author:

When she’s not polluting filthy minds with fresh smut, Gin enjoys photography and cooking.

What inspired you to write your book?

The recent NSA spying scandals and my love of sarcastic, well-written gay erotica seemed like a great mix!

Here is a short sample from the book:

Kyle did a double take just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. The images he thought he was seeing on Derek’s monitor… surely he was out of his mind? But after he closed his eyes and shook his head, the pictures were still there. And so was Derek, standing almost uncomfortably close to him.
The entirety of the 24-inch monitor was filled with naughty photos, dozens of them. Though the photos were all thumbnails, there was no hiding their contents. They were looking at some very intimate correspondence. It appeared to be a back and forth between two gentlemen, escalating from coy thumbnails and glimpses of skin to the full monty. Kyle noted after a quick scan of the screen that there wasn’t a single woman in sight.
Kyle was momentarily speechless, but he found his voice eventually:
“Derek, what the fuck?”
“I know, right?” Derek laughed and eased back down into his chair, showing little concern for the X-rated subject matter. More than anything he just seemed amused.
Kyle wanted to tell him that what he was doing was wrong, that they were supposed to be doing their jobs, that he was going to get them both fired if he kept this up, but… a different question sprang to mind, one he couldn’t help but ask:
“Who is this? Why are you even looking at it?” And why did you want to show me? he didn’t quite have the balls to add.
Derek laughed again, louder, and scrolled up the backlog on the screen. He beckoned Kyle closer with a crook of his finger, then pointed.
“You see that? It’s Jim Dalefield, that Senator from Arkansas.”
“Oh my God,” Kyle dropped his voice to a whisper. “He’s the one… the Arkansas Defense of Marriage and Families Act? That guy?”
Derek flipped through a few menus, then pulled up an email that showed the subject of the photos in full: a tall, thickly-built man with a hefty jaw and a hard, critical stare. He was holding the camera up above himself, aiming the lens down the length of his body. The shot captured just about everything, including the base of the man’s thick, erect cock. He was peering up into the camera, lower lip caught in his teeth. The look on his face was hard, demanding, almost an order: you will look at me.
“He’s always seemed like such a prick,” Derek was saying, scrolling past that photo to another, showing the Senator from behind, a mirror shot that showed off the shapely muscle of his ass and lower back.
Kyle slid his tongue across his lips. The hypocrisy was amusing, yes, but more to the point: the photos were actually kind of hot. Really hot. He wondered if he was staring too long, because Derek stopped talking. When Kyle looked over, Derek’s dark brown eyes were focused right on him. The full weight of the other man’s attention was enough to send the back of his neck tingling.
“Yeah,” Kyle laughed nervously, filled with a sudden need to defuse the tension. “Well, just shows you, can’t ever trust those family values types…” he trailed off and cleared his throat, keenly aware that Derek was still looking right at him. The older man’s stare had a quieting effect on him; it felt like being put under a microscope, being studied, being assessed.
A sudden jolt shot through him when he remembered that he’d unbuttoned his shirt. Yeah, that’s likely what Derek was looking at. His cheeks darkened as he reached down, awkwardly adjusting the fabric of his shirt.
“Kyle.” Derek’s voice was quiet yet authoritative. The sound of it stilled Kyle’s hands.
“Don’t fidget like that. It doesn’t suit you.”
Kyle’s mouth went dry. Beside him, Derek slowly stood, pushing the office chair aside and taking a step closer.
“You and I both know. I’ve seen you looking at me.” Derek took another step, coming right up behind Kyle, invading his personal space. Kyle could practically feel the fabric of his well-tailored suit jacket against his back. Likewise, he could feel the hammering of his own heart. The room was silent save for the consistent whirr of the computer fans.
“You know who Senator Dalefield is sending these to?” Derek leaned down so he could breathe the words directly into Kyle’s ear. He was taller than Kyle and loomed over him from behind, granting him an angle to whisper against the sensitive skin of Kyle’s neck.
“He’s sending them to an aide in his own office,” Derek purred, not actually touching skin yet. Kyle’s cock stirred in his trousers. He couldn’t help it. The hot breath on his skin, the filthy pictures on the screen, the fact that his hot older colleague was actively coming on to him… it was dirtier than anything he’d ever fantasised about before. He rolled his shoulders back and sucked in a breath through his teeth, waiting in anticipatory silence to see what Derek would do next.
“You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it before.” Derek leaned in, skimming his mouth just barely along the skin of Kyle’s neck. His breath was hot and wet, and when his lips finally made contact, Kyle couldn’t help himself: he groaned. A quiet, stifled groan like a horny teenager trying to hide a secret.
“An older, powerful man…” Derek trailed off and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the side of Kyle’s neck. It sent a shock of surprise and pleasure both through Kyle’s entire body.
Kyle became gradually aware that the thick, heady scent of his own arousal was now obvious in the confined space of the cubicle. He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“The cameras,” he managed, his voice a shaky whisper. He’d meant it to come out as a protest, but he was so horny it made his voice weak.
“They just record over themselves,” Derek assured him in the same even murmur. “Nobody will ever see. Unless you want them to.”