Here' the last excerpt before Open House releases on Monday, October 24. You can still save 30% off the regular price if you pre-order the book today at Dreamspinner Press. The sale ends at midnight
10/23. Open Seating, book 1 in the trilogy is also for sale.
Half an hour later, Seth was back at his desk, and Bryce was stepping out of the elevator in the underground parking. It was cold this morning, and he knew it would get much worse in the next few months as winter hit the Midwest in its usual brutal manner, but for now, it was tolerable. A leather jacket and his waffle-knit Henley were all he needed to fend off the early-morning chill. His ass throbbed a little, a pleasant reminder of Seth he’d carry around all day. Thinking of his lover taking the lead this morning made him reach down and adjust his cock. Unbelievably, it was reacting again, growing plump with visions of Seth pressing him up against the tiles and pounding into him forcefully. God, who knew he’d unleashed such a tiger. His initial impression of timid Seth had completely changed as, little by little, the guy evolved into an assertive lover who could rise to the occasion whenever and wherever. If Bryce didn’t get his thoughts out of the gutter, he’d be hightailing it back upstairs for round two.
His truck was several aisles over but close enough to respond to the convenient app he’d downloaded on his phone. With a few strokes, he could start, stop, lock, unlock, heat up, or cool down his vehicle before he even buckled up. He sent the start and heating signal while he was walking, but didn’t notice Owen, who’d stepped out of the shadows and now stood in his path.
“Hey,” he said, blocking Bryce.
Startled, Bryce took a step back and frowned. “What the fuck are you doing here, Owen?”
“I wanted to talk before you left for work.”
“Haven’t you heard of phones?”
“I don’t have your number,” Owen argued. “Besides, this conversation needs to take place in person.”
“We’ve got nothing to say to each other.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Bryce. I owe you an apology.”
Bryce snorted. “Now? I couldn’t care less.”
He tried to shoulder past, but Owen held him by the arm. “Hear me out, buddy.”
“You can talk while I head toward my truck,” Bryce said, shaking free. He wanted to punch the guy but wasn’t sure he’d come out on top. Owen might be flabby and out of shape, but he was still a head taller and had shoulders like an ox. Bryce knew what the guy could do when facing an obstacle, and right then, he didn’t feel like being used as a tackle sled, so he let him have his say.
“For years I’ve regretted that dumb move, which ended up hurting me in the end. You walked out, and Bill, my agent, used it against me when the higher-ups heard rumors about my orientation. Back in the day, the NFL wanted nothing to do with queers.”
“Not much has changed,” Bryce commented. “We’re still not their first-round draft pick.”
“Maybe not, but when I was in the game, it was way worse.”
“Someone saw me at a gay bar and rumors began to circulate. I did my best to ward off the haters by dating a bunch of women and managed to knock one up in the process.”
“So your story about wanting kids was bullshit? You married her to protect your career.”
“Yes and no. At first I was freaked out by the idea of becoming a dad and living a dual life, but Bill convinced me it was the right thing to do. I was excited and happy when my son was born. All the lies seemed worth it as I looked down at his tiny face. Unfortunately, Bill couldn’t keep his dick away from me, and we were spotted by a teammate. He told the organization that I forced him and he feared for his life.”
“Lying sack of shit,” Bryce said in a deadly voice. “I hope you set the record straight.”
“It was my word against his, and he had a lot more clout. They let me go, word got out, and no one would touch me.”
“I’m sorry, Owen, but what’s this got to do with me?”