I thought I knew what love was…
Boys of Summer
© 2009 Cooper Davis
My name is Hunter Willis and I’ve found love. The problem? I’m not sure I’m ready for the rest of the world to know I’ve fallen for my best friend. Everyone knows Max is gay. Me? They think I’m straight as an arrow. So did I, until Max and I shared a kiss that blew that theory right out of the water.
Now, by the ocean in Florida, thousands of miles away from prying eyes, I’m finally ready to admit to myself that Max and I have something special. Max has been ready for a long time—and he’s been waiting for me.
Really
waiting. As in…he’s still a virgin.
There’s nothing I want more than to be Max’s first lover. But I know when Max gives away that part of himself, it won’t be just a summer fling. It’ll be for keeps. Max deserves the best. I’m just not sure, when it comes right down to it, that I won’t break his heart.
Did I mention I’m scared as hell?
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Boys of Summer:
The sun dips low into the ocean, and I wonder how much longer I can possibly wait. Especially as I watch Max’s crisp T-shirt catch in the wind, rippling up over his back.
I steal furtive glances at his torso, at the cordons of muscle that wind across his abdomen and sides.
He’s beautiful, and I’ll be damned if I can lie about that.
We’re on the beach, and he’s fired up the grill, probably about an hour ago. He’s been cooking burgers ever since, the kind I most love, the ones with pickle relish and melted pimento cheese.
The burgers started out as a Louisa thing, but now they’re a “me” thing, and Max makes them whenever he wants to dote on me.
Like tonight, when so much hovers in the balance between the two of us.
He knows how I love them and, as he flips the patties on the grill, I feel a little bit courted. But unfortunately our neighbors have wandered over from the house next door, and Max gets all chatty with them while he cooks.
I’m selfish, because I wonder why they won’t simply go away. Worse still, I worry that he’s encouraging the husband to stick around, making conversation with him. Like he is. The man straddles the bench of the picnic table, opening a beer, and next thing I know, he and Max are talking shop about stocks.
Max is one hell of a trader, and he earns a pile of money—it’s how we’ve managed to rent this million-dollar beach house for the week.
But I’m beginning to feel the neighbors’ unasked questions burning between us like unsure currency. You know, two guys vacationing alone, one of them so damned sexy that every head on the beach jerks in his direction. I know what the neighbors are thinking. A guy like that can’t possibly be straight, not with every girl on the beach watching him every day. Not with how he spends so much time with me.
Yeah, sure, we’re here for the girls all right, I think, as the wind kicks up, and the T-shirt clings to Max’s sinewy body. Breathtaking. Gorgeous.
He’s mine already, and I wish I had the nerve to announce it to these strangers.
Max stands before the grill, clueless about their curious glances, and chats happily along.
I struggle to be calm, feet squared in the sand, unable to believe how easy he is about everything. Then he makes his move, pushing past me. He runs his hand down my arm, and I can’t help but blush. Hell, my face is fevered by his subtle touch.
The neighbor husband catches my darting glance, and smiles nervously.
That’s when I get it.
Max is coming out to these people, and he intends to drag me out of the closet right along with him.
He’s seeing how I’ll handle this back in L.A.
“Hungry?” he pipes, dropping a plateful of cheeseburgers on the table right in front of me. He presses a loving hand into the small of my back, as he leans past me for the ketchup.
But I focus on the wife, as she walks up to the table. “Yeah, sure.” I nod vaguely. I’m somewhere else.
I stand awkwardly as Max makes me a plate, pampering me like I’m his boyfriend.
I
am
his boyfriend, I think with no small amount of panic, as he passes the plate into my hand.
“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling sullen and angry. I wander away from the group, and drop heavily into the sand. The ocean rolls in front of me, and I realize that I’m shaking almost as forcefully.
But Max has followed me. “What’s wrong?” he asks, settling beside me.
I don’t answer; fight the urge to grumble about the way he’s set me up with these people.
He smiles shyly at me. “You’re just scared, Hunter.” My heart lurches because he understands me so damn well. “Don’t be.”
He’s right. I should be myself, and tonight,
myself
is that I want to make love to him. Easy, effortless…I wish it were truly that way, as I stare into his lovely eyes.
Our moment is ruptured when the neighbors’ daughter trots into our view, giggling and innocent.
“Hey!” she shouts, presenting herself to Max. She stands tall like a soldier reporting for inspection. They’ve become fast friends this week.
Max grins, giving the hem of her dress a gentle tug as he asks, “A Lily?”
I have no clue what he’s even talking about, and apparently it’s some secret language, because she becomes bashful, as she looks down at her bright dress and whispers, “My mommy found it for me.” She points at a large appliqué on the front and explains, “It has a palm tree.”
“Well your mommy has great taste,” Max agrees, and I wonder what it is I’m not privy to.
His compliment sends her darting away, back toward the picnic table, where her parents sit, hovering over the delicious burgers.
So Max and I are alone again, and there’s only the rush of wind between us.
He lifts his baseball cap, giving his hair a little toss as he squints into the setting sun.
“Don’t be scared,” he says, then hesitates a moment. “You know…about later.” His jaw tightens as he stares at the waves and he slips a palm onto my thigh for everyone to see.
I stiffen, and want to shove him away.
But I don’t. I stare at his golden hand like an invader, and think of how it rubs and loves and caresses me. That hand has stroked me into oblivion dozens of times.
I love this hand same as I love him; so I don’t push it away.
The wife wanders toward us, dropping onto the hard, wet sand. We form a little triangle, as she tucks her feet beneath her.
“You have a real way with kids,” she laughs with Max. “She’s so proud of that dress.”
I have to suppress a wild snort of laughter behind my hand, as his thigh falls against mine. Max would make the ideal wife, I think with a sly grin. He cooks like a mojo. He’s great with kids. And I
know
he’s going to be killer in bed.
Too bad he’s the wrong gender.
But I’ve realized this summer that love simply doesn’t bother with those kinds of distinctions. It falls over you like a mystery, and once it does, you’re gone for life. I’m with Max because I can’t be anywhere else. I was lost to him months ago, and we’ve been dancing this strange, uncomfortable dance ever since. Finding our rhythm in secret.
Our neighbor beams about her daughter’s dress—amazed that he knew it was a Lily Pulitzer, and as he credits Louisa for his fashion sense, I still wonder what the hell they’re even talking about. Next thing I know, they’re chattering away about vintage clothes shops in West Hollywood, and I’m only aware of Max’s palm resting on my thigh.
Isn’t she?
I think, shifting a bit. But they keep talking until finally I relax. As easy as that.
His palm no longer scalds my thigh, and I no longer worry what these strangers think.
He’s mine and I’m damn proud of it. I even scoot a little closer, wondering if he notices.
I wonder until he strokes my leg with deliberate slowness, a lovers’ gesture, and tosses me a flirty grin as he does it.
Our neighbor doesn’t even blink. I’m getting a hard-on because of his little streak of exhibitionism, and she couldn’t care less.
Why didn’t I figure this out months ago?
In hiding who he was, Payton found himself…and the man he would grow to love.
The Englor Affair
© 2008 J.L. Langley
After his brother is kidnapped, Prince Payton Townsend masquerades as an Admiral’s assistant in order to track the culprits through the tangled mysteries of the planet Englor. He finds way more than he bargained for in the form of Marine Colonel Simon Hollister.
Simon is no ordinary soldier. He’s heir to Englor and his life is mapped out for him: throne, bride, and eventually an heir. He never expected a dalliance with Payton to blossom into love, or that the organization that taught him to lead would threaten that love—and their lives.
Danger and intrigue abound as they learn more about their shared enemy, and about each other. What they learn could help them rise above to an enduring love—or pull them apart.
Warning: Hot sweaty manlove of the interplanetary kind.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Englor Affair:
Six.
Payton grunted and hefted the bar up again. He hadn’t worked out his upper body yesterday and now he knew why.
Seven.
His upper body strength was next to none. After hoisting the bar back onto the stand, he left his hands on it. “Eight.” At least no one was here to witness him struggling with such miniscule weight. Pulling his feet up onto the bench, he lay there staring at the staggered white tile and fluorescent light ceiling. It was ugly. The gym looked like a gym, not the pristine workout room at home.
Good grief, he was becoming a whiner. He huffed out a breath, making the hair on his forehead flutter, and closed his eyes. First, he was melancholy over not having a consort. Which was stupid, he didn’t
want
a consort. It was just from watching Nate talk to Aiden, and witnessing how happy they both were. Second, he didn’t want to work, which he really needed to do. The guilt was gnawing at him. That was also stupid because as soon as he figured out why Benson was on Regelence, he was going to go home and back to being under constant surveillance. He actually had a bit of freedom here…and he was using it to lift weights. Yeah, he was whining, most unbecoming, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
“Lifting free weights by yourself is a very bad idea.”
Payton sucked in a breath, dropped his feet back to the floor and opened his eyes.
Si stood at the end of the bench, his hands on the bar. How had Payton not heard him come in? He loomed over Payton with his brow furrowed over crystal blue eyes. “No more lifting weights on your own. It’s dangerous.” A couple strands of auburn hair fell onto his forehead.
Payton let go of the bar and suppressed a shiver. His mood was suddenly looking up. This was the reason he’d come here in the first place. To hear that voice again and see if the man was as handsome as he remembered. Last night, he’d dreamed of that smooth sexy voice whispering unspeakable things in his ear while they did unspeakable things to each other. Good grief, he was getting aroused. He was obsessed. How pathetic. All it took was a perfect body, a handsome face and someone to be nice to him for no particular reason.
Si crossed his arms on the bar, leaned over toward Payton and grinned. “How many are you doing?”
Galaxy, the man was every bit as gorgeous as Payton remembered. The clothes emphasized his masculinity. Red hair peeked out from under his arms, not concealed at all by the white sleeveless shirt he wore. His gray shorts were practically threadbare and very short, the hair on his legs visible right up to his upper thighs. There was almost nothing covering him. Unlike Payton, Si didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by wearing so little. He seemed quite secure and sure of himself.
That confidence made Payton’s cock even harder. He swallowed the lump in his throat and hurried to sit up. He barely noticed his aching thigh muscles as he turned toward Si, hoping he hadn’t spotted Payton’s growing erection. “I— You—you don’t have to help me. I’ll slow you down. You— I—” He groaned and bit his bottom lip. There was just no way to get around it. “I’m not up to your”—he waved his hand, searching his brain for the right word—“standards.”
Chuckling, Si darted a gaze down Payton’s body then back up. “You are definitely up to my standards.” The gleam in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t talking about working out and weight limits. “Besides, I need a workout partner, my friends abandoned me tonight.” Si pushed himself upright and grabbed the bar, ready to spot him. “Now lay back down and finish your set. How many?”
After hesitating for only a second, Payton decided the hell with it and lay back down. Si hadn’t even tried to hide his erection yesterday in the shower. Either he’d ignore Payton’s or— Payton didn’t know what, but he was willing to take the chance. He knew he wasn’t reading Si wrong. The man was definitely interested in him and Payton had nothing to lose. After all, wasn’t this what he’d come here hoping for? It wasn’t like anyone would find out. What was a little flirtation? “Three sets of eight, I’ve done one set.” He got his hands on the bar on the outsides of Si’s and pushed up.