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Blurb
A
closeted football star. An out and proud photographer. And a road
trip.
Wade
Truman had grown accustomed to admiring Heath Taylor from afar. Now,
years of denying himself and the irresistible Heath are wreaking
havoc on Wade’s resolve. The odds are stacked against them …
they’re graduating college soon. Wade just signed a multimillion
dollar football deal—thrusting him even further into the spotlight.
Not to mention, what would the gorgeously refined Heath want with a
small town jock boy like himself anyway?
Heath
grew up privileged, accepted, and out. And the two hells he swore he
would never put himself through—crushing on a straight guy and
being anyone’s dirty little secret—have presented themselves in
one sweet talkin’, dream hauntin’ package. One weekend with Wade,
and Heath’s sure the devil himself has come a-knockin’.
Warning:
Contains Southern accents wielded like weapons of desire, a snarky,
do-gooder Pennsylvanian, and two boys deserving of true love.
Excerpt
“Dare,”
Wade ventured.
“Nope,
my turn. Dare,” Heath demanded. “I dare you to show me something
embarrassing. Something stupid you do that no one knows about.”
Wade
thought for a moment. He didn’t do anything stupid. Well, he didn’t
think he did. “Like what?”
“Hmm
… well, you can’t use this against me later, but something stupid
I do is dance around in my room. Wearing just my underwear.”
“A
lot of people do that. That’s not stupid.”
“To
One Direction?” Heath added with a wry grin.
Wade
burst out laughing. “Uh, maybe not.”
“Shut
up. They’re fun. Makes me feel good.”
A
lock of that soft, brown hair fell across Heath’s forehead, and
Wade longed to brush it away. “See, that makes it not stupid.”
“You’re
deflecting. This is your dare. Not mine. Whatcha got?”
He
thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “I have to show you?
Can’t tell you?”
“That’s
what makes it a dare.”
“’K.”
Wade heaved his large frame from his comfy spot and moved to the
space between the beds. Heath sat up quickly and spun around, sitting
Indian-style with a huge grin on his face. “I don’t want to
disappoint you. It’s not all that impressive.”
“Go
on, quarterback. Show me what no one else has ever seen,” he
taunted.
“Fine.
I’m too buzzed for this to be graceful. Just remember that.”
“Do
your worst.” Heath lifted his glass, toasting Wade before slamming
back another shot.
Wade
turned and faced the nightstand that divided the room. At least he
wouldn’t have to look into Heath’s face as he did this. He took a
deep breath and released it slowly as he bent at the waist and
dropped his arms to the floor to support his upper body. He let his
feet slide back and his head dangle before rotating it side to side
between his arms, slipping into what had become second nature for him
over the years. “Downward dog,” he announced. Wade stared at his
feet for a moment before breathing deeply again, bringing up his
head, dropping his hips and forearms, and rising onto the tips of his
toes. “Plank.” He started to feel a little weirded out since
Heath hadn’t made a peep. So, he moved quickly by dropping the rest
of his body to the floor but arching his spine and neck toward the
ceiling. “Cobra.”
“I
can’t believe you do yoga. That’s fucking awesome. Show me some
more,” Heath finally encouraged. Wade could hear the awe in his
voice, so despite how ridiculous he probably looked, he found himself
complying. He did a couple more poses on the floor before moving into
a standing position.
Then,
he did his favorite. He figured out why that was long ago. It made
him feel graceful, at a time in his life when his size made him
anything but. He balanced himself on one leg and brought the other up
to rest one foot on the inside of his thigh. Now, he was facing
Heath, so he grinned a little at the wide-eyed look he was giving
him. Finally, he brought his arms over his head much like a ballerina
would do but kept moving his hands until his fingers locked together.
He opened his mouth to speak, the self-deprecating comment that had
sprung to mind died on his tongue, though, as Heath launched himself
at Wade.
Before
he could move to defend himself from the incoming fingers, Heath
wedged them into his ribs and wiggled them hard. Wade’s breath
whooshed out of him, and he lost his balance, throwing his arms
around Heath to catch himself from falling. Instead of steadying him,
Heath’s momentum sent them both toppling backward onto the other
bed.
Wade
grunted when Heath’s elbow came down to hit him in the stomach. He
tried to laugh at their suddenly awkward position, but it ended up
coming out like a bark. Heath didn’t stop tickling him, so instead
of letting him go, he squeezed his arms tighter around Heath. Heath’s
entire body rested against his—their chests, their stomachs, their
hips, their—oh, lord, help him—their crotches, even Heath’s
toes stretched out on top of Wade’s bare feet.
Heath
finally exhausted all his laughter and relinquished the torturous
tickling, although he made no move to extract himself from Wade. He
finally looked up at him, and his eyes practically glittered with
mischief. “I’m sorry,” he laughed. “I couldn’t resist.”
“You
don’t look sorry,” Wade mock-complained.
“You’re
right. That was a lie.” Heath grinned, and his eyes darted to
Wade’s lips.
“Dare
me,” Wade blurted before he could doubt himself any further.
Heath
gave a nervous laugh before asking, “Dare you to what?”
“Dare
me to kiss you.”
Heath’s
green eyes widened and shot back up to Wade’s before tightening at
the corners. “Why would I do that?”
“Because
I know you want me to,” Wade boasted before swallowing hard. “More
than that—I want to.”
All
rights reserved. Copyright Grey Cole 2015.
Grey
Cole always dreamt of a book that featured hot male-on-male action
that grew to encompass one lucky woman. Okay … maybe Grey really
dreamt of this scenario playing out in real life and then decided to
purge all those dirty thoughts onto the page.
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