SECRET LOVERS
by Cassie Stevens
M/M Erotic Romance - Short Contemporary
November 2007
Cover Art © 2007 Trace Edward Zaber
Amber Quill Press - Amber Allure www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure
ISBN 978-1-60272-152-4
A lifetime of living in secret? Or a lifetime of living alone? The answer isn't so simple when careers are at risk and a friendship could be lost.
Firefighter Alex Randall and Marine Captain Sam Blevins have been best friends and near constant companions since fate brought them together during a traffic collision. But even best friends don't tell all. Each harbors hidden secrets--the fact that each is gay, and that they both want each other...love each other. There's a lot at stake by reaching out for the one you love, the one you need...the one who makes you live. A lot to lose...and even more to gain...if they are willing to be...secret lovers.
To read an excerpt of this book, click here
Secret Lovers is a part of the print anthology Behind Closed Doors by Cassie Stevens.
|
From Amber Quill Press Download 
|
From All Romance Ebooks Download 
|
From Fictionwise Download 
|
What The Reviewers Are Saying
4-1/2 Blue Ribbon Review! Out of all the stories I’ve read lately SECRET LOVERS is one that really sticks out in my mind. Not just because of the sex or emotional impact but because I adored getting to know Alex and Sam and was even charmed by their friends. Cassie Stevens takes readers on a fun filled romp through all the trials and tribulations of falling in love with your best friend. Alex and Sam are perfect together. Both are strong, capable, loving men and exactly the sort of people you’d want as friends. At only 60 pages, this is a fairly short read but one I’m sure you’ll thoroughly enjoy. ~Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
Excerpt
Alex Randall held his breath. It was the last shot of the last game in the Over 30 Basketball League. Firefighters versus Marines. Championship and the bragging rights that went with it were on the line. There were only six teams in the league, so bragging rights were as good as it got.
It was down to a free throw shot, thanks to Batuski fouling Marine forward Sam Blevins on a shot. Sam made the basket, tying their teams, and got a free throw for the foul. They were screwed, and everyone knew it. Sam never missed a free throw. And while a couple of Sam’s teammates might get cocky about that fact, Sam never did—yet another plus in all the wonderful things there were to like about the man.
Captain Sam Blevins, United States Marine... six feet, four inches of sweet, sculpted muscle that glided in perfection like a well-oiled machine. His brown hair was shorter than Alex’s, as per military regulation. His sky blue eyes, mesmerizing, especially when he laughed. And he had an ass that cried out to be clutched.
Considering how fit the man was, Alex has some serious fantasies about the thrusting action of those butt cheeks. And the curves and angles that defined every muscle on Sam’s body begged to be mapped by a tongue...or rather, Alex’s tongue begged for that pleasure. Alex had remained mute on the subject...so far. That was going to end this afternoon. Whether Sam made that shot or not, Alex was determined to see the handsome Marine went home with him after the post-season barbeque at Carter’s house. As for what happened then... All Alex could do was pray he hadn’t made a mistake.
The last twelve weeks had been hard, in more ways than the obvious one. They’d met by chance at the site of a four-car traffic collision. Alex’s truck had responded; Sam had been a witness. Meeting again during the subsequent follow-up reports seemed like fate to Alex. Still, he’d learned long ago signals could be misunderstood, and he sure didn’t want to lose a good friend...someone who’d rapidly become his best friend. But Alex wanted him so badly, he had to do something, had to say something.
He’d been walking around with a steel pike of a hard-on every time the thought of Sam wiggled through his heads. And being near him? Thank God for jock straps, athletic cups, codpieces...anything to keep the damn thing tamed.
Alex tried not to smile as he watched Sam lay up the shot, measuring, aiming. He was magnificent. Those long fingers holding the ball. Alex imagined them around his testicles, weighing them as Sam’s tongue licked Alex’s cock like an all-day sucker.
So much for the jock strap.
Things were getting more than uncomfortable. His thoughts flashed to Sam kneeling before him, peeling the annoying elastic off him, freeing Alex’s erection to his waiting lips.
God, this was killing him. Just shoot the damn ball so we can get the fuck out of here.
Sam’s knees flexed. He balanced the ball on his palm, then sent it sailing toward the net in a perfect arc. It plunked in without kissing the rim, and the buzzer sounded, amid groans and cheers to end the game.
His fellow Marine officers surrounded Sam with back claps, handshakes, shoulder nudges. Alex’s team took the loss in stride and closed in to add their congratulations. It was all in fun, something for the over-thirty “boys” to do. Some were married with children and needed the outlet. Others were single and tired of hanging out at bars trying to hook up. And then there was Alex, who fit neither of those categories. Single, yes. Looking for a hook up, yes. But not any most of these guys would accept, except—he prayed—Sam.
Alex liked hanging out with his co-workers. He liked male bonding just as much as the rest of them. If any of them ever learned he was gay, though, he’d be out like a shot. Yet he couldn’t help wonder how many of them harbored that same secret. It was hard to cut through the bullshit joking they gave each other. Sam... It just felt different. Alex knew if he didn’t take the chance, he’d regret it the rest of his life.
The high school gym cleared out fast. The players were always anxious to get home to shower since they weren’t authorized to use the facilities on-site. The only people who ever attended the games were family members, a few friends, women—and a few men—looking to score, and the sports writers for the local newspaper. Their league was definitely small time, but it was a hell of a lot of fun. Anything that put Alex closer to Sam was a godsend.
“So, I’ll see you at Carter’s in about an hour?” Alex asked as he and Sam walked out to the parking lot.
“You bet.” Sam clasped him on the shoulder. Was it Alex’s imagination that he kept it there a few seconds longer than was the norm?
“How about I pick you up?” Sam suggested. “It’ll save having a vehicle in front of Carter’s house.”
“Sounds great.” His heart ka-thumped against his ribs.
“Great. See you in an hour.” There was a subtle squeeze to Alex’s shoulder before Sam dropped his arm and walked on to a blue Buick sedan that matched his eyes.
Alex somehow managed to make his body move. He felt like a walking hard-on, tight all over. The jock strap cut off his circulation. He fought the urge to adjust things. His dick and balls got claustrophobic real fast when they didn’t have the freedom they wanted. Every step toward his compact white pick-up was agony.
He lifted a parting wave to another team member, then seated his key and swung the door open. Getting behind the steering wheel was another painful issue. After a quick look around to make sure he wasn’t being spied on, Alex tugged and pulled at the support while he slipped into his seat. It only made things worse. Now the elastic nailed the head of his cock at the wrong angle.
Alex fumbled for a towel from his gym bag, draped it over his lap, and shoved the penis straightjacket down. His erection sprung to freedom, tenting the towel. He sighed with relief and curled his fingers around it, offering a stroke in apology. The greedy cock wanted more. It wanted attention. It wanted to come. It wanted Sam’s lips around it, his fingers caressing it, his ass begging for it.
He tried to tuck his penis between his clutched thighs. Not only was it impossible with the jock strap wedged down, but Alex couldn’t drive that way. And if he kept toying with his dick like this, someone was bound to see him. He pressed the towel over his lap, then tucked the edges under him. It was hopeless. Nothing would deflate the menace.
Well...one thing would.
Alex left the towel draped over his lap and pointed his truck toward home. A white-knuckled grip kept his fingers around the steering wheel. His unruly penis kept pushing its head up as if to help drive. And when he pulled into his driveway, it looked like every neighbor within a five-block radius had decided to be outside.
Killing the engine, he pulled his jock into place as best he could, then used his gym bag as a shield while he darted inside. Thankfully, no one did more than wave at him. It was his lucky day; hopefully, in more ways than one.
He pressed his back against the door after he’d closed it and stripped his shorts off where he stood...then slid to the tile with his hand wrapped around his cock. The cold floor did nothing to shock his system to a controllable level. If anything, he’d swear the heat from his body melted the ceramic back into slurry. He imagined himself splayed before Sam, at his mercy to do with whatever he wished, whatever he commanded. His balls tightened at the thought, pushing drops of pre-cum to the gaping slit at the top of his rigid dick.
Alex brushed his thumb over the head, smearing the sticky residue around until it glistened. He shoved the other hand between his legs, kneading his sac, which was now as hard as the penis waving above it. He slipped lower, to the tight hole beneath, pushing for entrance while he fisted his erection. Back to his testicles, weighing, massaging, delving between them. That’s what Sam would do—shove him wide and gobble him up.
Another surge sent fire racing along his erection. Pre-cum dribbled down the shaft, moistened his fist so he could go faster, tighter. His hips pumped, slapping onto the tile floor in time to his heartbeat. God, why didn’t he have more hands?
His hard nipples rasped against his cotton T-shirt. Lips sucking, teeth raking over them would have felt oh-so-wonderful! Fingers probing deep in his ass. Sam’s hand stroking him.
Alex wedged into the corner by the door, feet flat on the floor, while he pivoted his hips into his imaginary lover. He grappled for the towel and wadded it over his cock. The soft terry kissed his skin. He pressed it against his balls and squeezed tight. Taking both ends, he raked it over his erection. Skidding up and then down, until each breath was nothing more than a gasp.
How would it feel when—if—Sam’s weight covered him? When his cock dueled with Alex’s? When his arms...his lips...
Orgasm shot out of him in fiery jets that soaked the towel. Alex’s hips flexed with every spurt. He lay there panting, dark spots clouding his vision, blood roaring in his ears. This was how he wanted his evening to end—with Sam right by his side.
