Title: Sightlines (The Community #3)
Author: Santino Hassell
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Release Date: October 9th 2017
Genre(s): Paranormal, Psychics
Reviewed by: Ele, Renee, and CrabbyPatty
Chase Payne is a walking contradiction. He’s the most powerful psychic in the Community, but the least respected. He’s the son of the Community’s founder, but with his tattoo sleeves and abrasive attitude, he’s nothing like his charismatic family. No one knows what to make of him, which is how he wound up locked in a cell on the Farm yet again. But this time, the only man he’s ever loved is there too.
Elijah Estrella was used to being the sassy sidekick who fooled around with Chase for fun. But that was before he realized the Community wasn’t the haven he’d believed in and Chase was the only person who’d ever truly tried to protect him. Now they’re surrounded by people who want to turn them against their friends, and the only way out is to pretend the brainwashing works.
With Chase playing the role of a tyrant’s second-in-command, and Elijah acting like Chase’s mindless sex toy, they risk everything by plotting a daring escape. In the end, it’s only their psychic abilities, fueled by their growing love for each other, that will allow them to take the Community down once and for all.
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Chase looked away from Elijah’s furious gaze. It was hard to believe what he was saying after so much evidence to the contrary. “This isn’t the time. They’ll be in here—”
“Stop telling me about it being the right time! Whatever you think about me and about how I feel is wrong. Maybe I’ve said things out of anger in the past, but that’s because you do act like a bastard. Why would I tell you how much you mean to me when you sometimes act like I’m nothing but a convenient piece of ass.”
“Good point.” Chase pushed Elijah back. “Can we—”
Elijah surged forward to crush their lips together. Chase started to shove him away, to twist his face and end this, but when Elijah’s tongue flicked at his mouth . . . he was gone. Gone into the sea of warm sensation and pleasure. The peace of the man’s mouth and the familiar stirrings of arousal that made it clear his sex drive would never lower no matter how much they tortured him.
Months of mind-fucking, and his body reacted to Elijah just as strongly as it always had.
He wanted him on the bed or on the floor. Screw it, he’d fuck Elijah up against the wall. Run his mouth all over soft brown skin, tangle his fingers in tangled hair, and look into eyes that always held a promise even though Chase had never allowed himself to fall too deep. Believing Elijah could ever want someone as warped as him was as good as believing in miracles. Telling himself he was just a stand-in, a big dick and a high libido with killer stamina, was easier.
But Chase hadn’t realized how much he’d miss Elijah’s mouth. After all this time, it was like heaven. Or whatever afterlife would take a freak show like Chase.
He slanted his mouth and kissed Elijah deeper, drinking in the soft little moan that followed, and enjoying how demanding Elijah was even now. They were surrounded by enemies, locked in a room with only a small hope that there were still no cameras, and moments away from pretending to be enemies. And yet . . . Chase wanted to rip down Elijah’s shorts and bury himself in his tight heat. Let him feel, with intense fucking, how much Chase wanted him. But then he’d have to swallow all the traitorous nonsense words that always wanted to fall from his mouth, because those words made it plain as day that he needed Elijah for a lot more than sex.
He tore away, heart jackhammering against his chest, and sucked in deep even breaths.
“I might have to hurt you,” he panted against Elijah’s mouth. “If they let me in the silo.”
“Until I . . . pretend to have turned?”
Chase nodded, still running his fingers through all that wild beautiful hair. “At the very least, I’ll have to treat you like you’re finally mine. And you’ll pretend you want it that way.”
“Who said anything about pretending?” Elijah licked his lips slowly. “If us fucking makes things more believable, I’m not going to complain.”
“Even if I treat you like my bitch boy? Tote you around like arm candy?”
“You can slap me around and fuck me in front of an audience as long as no one else lays a hand on me and the end game is us getting the hell out of here.”
Santino Hassell was raised by a conservative family but grew up to be a smart-mouthed, school cutting grunge kid, a transient twenty-something, and eventually transformed into a grumpy introvert and unlikely romance author with an affinity for baseball caps. His novels are heavily influenced by the gritty, urban landscape of New York City, and his desire to write relationships fueled by intensity and passion.
He’s been a finalist in both the Bisexual Book Awards and the EPIC Awards, and was nominated for a prestigious RITA award in 2017. His work has been featured in BuzzFeed, Huffington Post, Washington Post, RT Magazine, and Cosmopolitan Magazine.