Dreams to Sell by KC Kendricks

Dreams to Sell
Book #8 of the Men of Marionville collection
Contemporary gay romance

The Men of Marionville collection are stand-alone stories set in the fictitious town of Marionville. They are not sequels or prequels. 

Part of the Men of Marionville series

Keith Mitchell needs a new challenge in his life. When an old friend pitches him a business proposition he agrees to pull up stakes and more to Marionville. Keith decides his new house will be in the style he’s always dreamed of having even if he will live in it alone.  

Realtor Terry Stattler has one goal in mind for his clients: find and sell them the house of their dreams. Recently widowed, Terry’s not in the market for companionship, or so he believes. His latest client is handsome, interesting and his age, but is he really ready to love again?

Keith becomes an eager suitor, waging a persistent siege until Terry gives into temptation. When Terry finds the right house for him, Keith redoubles his efforts to win Terry’s heart. After all, what good is a the perfect house if the man of your dreams won’t share it with you?


“Listen, Keith. We need to get something out in the open here. You’re a client. We’re conducting business.”

But he hadn’t said he wasn’t interested.

“I won’t always be a client. I’m going to buy a house here, sooner rather than later. Then what are you going to do when I ask you out for a romantic dinner?”

“Don’t push me, Keith.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dylan and Cass stand. I took a gulp of my lukewarm coffee. “I guess we’re going.”

Quick as lightning, he reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go. I’ll give you a ride home. Finish your coffee.”

Goosebumps skittered across my buttocks and down the back of my thighs at his touch. I wanted to take him up on his offer, but what did he really want? I covered his hand with mine and was inordinately pleased he didn’t pull away.

“Thanks, Terry, but I think tonight I should go with them. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He slid his hand out from between my wrist and palm. “So you’re going to make me say ‘please’?”


Since we’d driven separately, I followed Terry to the Victorian. He parked along the street, but I pulled into the driveway and shut down the engine down. A large bushy cedar grew far too close to the house, obscuring the corner of the wrap-around porch. My first impression had been it would have to be cut back, but now I thought it needed to be completely removed. I got out of the rental car and waited for Terry, but he remained in his Charger. I walked over to see him searching through his briefcase for something. I tapped the window, and he unlocked the passenger door. I opened it and stuck my head inside the car.

“Lose something?”

He made disgusted sound. “I can’t find the damn keys. I bet I left them at my house.”

“I’m not in any hurry. We can go get them unless you have another appointment.”

“No, I didn’t schedule anything else today. I know you’re anxious to get a house here so I left the afternoon open for you.” He slipped his briefcase between the bucket seats and onto the rear floor. “Get in. It won’t take long to get to my home office and come back.”

I landed in the seat and fastened the safety belt. I wasn’t a stalker, but I was curious about what sort of house a Realtor might call home. I grinned at him. “Let’s roll. Show me what this four-door car can really do.”

He snorted. “It’ll do, I assure you. When this thing hit the market, I couldn’t wait to get one. I’ve never liked driving a sedan, but this thing redefines the word.” To emphasize his words, he made the tires chirp as he pulled away from the curb.

We both laughed, and my younger self was glad to know some of the boy he once was still lurked inside him.

Terry’s home was a brick Cape Cod with a central entrance and two dormers on each side. The surprise was the sweeping, curved line of the double entrance bump-outs that extended almost to the peak of the roof. I’d never seen that architectural detail executed in such a manner on a Cape Cod before and commented on it as he parked beside the house.

“There are a handful of homes like this one around Marionville, I suspect all built by the same contractor. C’mon inside while I find the keys.”

I followed him along a short, paved walk to an obvious addition to the house. Beside the door, a small bronze plaque with gold letters proclaimed, “Terry Stattler, Realtor” to those who came this way.

His office was spacious with a great view of the landscaped backyard. The room held the prerequisite desk plus a round table and a cozy sitting area. His computer monitor set-up drew my attention. One faced his chair and the other two, one on each end of his desk, faced outward.

“Three monitors on your desk?”

“Yep. Mirrored displays. When I’m running a slideshow for prospective buyers, everyone can see a screen and be comfortable.”

“That’s brilliant.”

Terry held up a key ring. “Found ’em.”

Something else found me and it was the sudden realization we were alone in his house and his bed was not far away. I saw it in his glittering gaze he’d had the same thought. I swallowed, hard, as Terry licked his lips and moved to stand in front of me. He rested his hands on my shoulders. Cock swelling, almost breathless, I ran my thumb across his lips.

“Terry, this could get out of hand in big hurry.”

“I know.”

The world spun around me at those two simple words. I had to hold on and not push him too far, but I needed to have him in my arms. His grip tightened.


I slid my arms around his waist and pulled him to me. He nodded, and I lowered my mouth to his. Little flames sparked behind my closed eyes as the feel of his soft lips seared my brain.
The memory of our chaste kiss last night fled as his mouth moved under mine, testing me. I clamped down on the urge to back him to the desk and bend him over it. His tongue licked over mine, and I threw caution out the window.

He was like a living flame against me. I feasted on his mouth and neck, oblivious to all but the taste of his skin. I relished the sensation of my stiff dick straining against the confining denim of my jeans. I held Terry tighter as he leaned into me. Our feet tangled with the edge of the rug as I stepped backward and we stumbled. The floor rushed to meet us, effectively ending one hell of a kiss. The air left my lungs as I landed hard on top of him. He rolled me beneath him, his rigid shaft pressed to my inner thigh. When I reached for him, Terry scooted away and smacked my hip.

“Whew. The next time we trip, you’re going down first.”

Panting, I turned my head and stared at him. “You sound a little breathless.”

“Do you want to take this upstairs?”

I opened my mouth to speak and a raspy croak came out. I coughed to clear my throat. “Upstairs. Is, um, that a good idea?”

“Hell, no. You know we’re lucky we didn’t bite off each other’s lips.” Terry rolled over and pushed up onto his knees and held his hand out to me. “Let’s at least get off the floor.”

I grabbed his hand and yanked him down on top of me. His mouth took mine in a bruising kiss. I thrust my tongue deep, and he followed when I retreated. Back and forth we tested and teased until he sat up, straddling my hips. I held my hands up to him, and he laced his fingers through mine. His chocolate brown orbs looked black as he held my gaze.

“Do you think we can go upstairs and keep things light?”

I blew out a deep breath in the vain attempt to settle my frantic heartbeat. I knew what he was asking and “light” was already too late for me. I wanted him for more than an afternoon…

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 KC Kendricks

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Life through the eyes of my black Lab, Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
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