Marc’s the Spot is the sequel to my anthology short To Arizona, which released last summer. Marc’s the Spot will become available at Loose ID on Tuesday, the 21st of March. To celebrate sharing the cover, I thought it would be fun to share a sneak peak of the novel itself. Enjoy!
Marc lived in a good-sized block house surrounded by land and no other homes. It was an earthy taupe and had wide bay windows in the front. There was a three-car garage beside the house, and a basketball pole sat on the side of the driveway. The yard was well kept, probably by a lawn service.
Lucas felt ten years younger than he was, showing up at a guy’s house for a hookup. Sneaking behind their teammates’ backs. Not that he’d done this kind of thing ten years ago, because he hadn’t. It’s a little late to be getting so adventurous. He scoffed at himself. He was thinking about things too much.
A sleek black Dodge Charger pulled into the drive as Lucas reached the front door. It parked in the garage nearest the house, and a minute later Marc was walking toward him. His auburn hair was tousled, bouncing as he moved. He still wore his game-day suit. It was a stylish blue three-piece affair, and Lucas’s gaze went right to the gray waistcoat.
The only thing hotter than a waistcoat was suspenders.
Lucas licked his lips and propped himself against the side of the entranceway, waiting.
“Hey,” said Marc as he drew close, voice on the breathy side. His cheeks were already flushed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, pulled them out, ruffled his hair, and cracked his knuckles. Lucas grinned at the show of nerves, and Marc finally huffed, ducking his head to hide his smile. He moved around Lucas and unlocked the door. “C’mon in. You want water or anything?”
“So polite.” Lucas crowded him against the foyer wall once Marc had locked the door behind them, and then slotted a thigh between Marc’s legs. Marc wrapped his arms around Lucas’s neck, lips parting to release a low gasp.
He nipped at Lucas’s jawline. “There was something we didn’t do last time,” said Marc between sucking kisses to Lucas’s neck. He trapped Lucas’s earlobe between his teeth and gently tugged. Marc rocked his hips in small, aborted movements, dragging the bulge in his pants along the muscled cord of Lucas’s thigh.
It took Lucas a minute to find his words. “Yeah, and what was that?”
Marc played with his hair, running his fingers through it and massaging Lucas’s scalp. It made his eyes go heavy-lidded in pleasure, and his chest rumbled with an animalistic purr, his inner cat preening under the attention just as much as the man.
“Making out,” said Marc, mouth now on Lucas’s cheekbone, pressing barely there kisses.
Lucas thought he heard him wrong. “What?”
Marc bit at Lucas’s bottom lip teasingly. “I want to go lay in bed and make out. Is that okay? I like kissing, and we didn’t really do it at all last time.” He undulated his body against Lucas, hips arching forward. “I’ve been thinking about your mouth since that night.”
He wasn’t alone in those thoughts, though Lucas had been thinking of Marc’s mouth on a much lower body part. He could roll with this. Kissing was something he normally left for relationships, most of his hookups not needing or wanting such intimacy, but then again, he wasn’t normally sleeping with someone ten years younger. He remembered kissing a lot of people when he was in his twenties.
It hadn’t yet lost its spark.
Wrapping his hands around the back of Marc’s thighs, Lucas lifted him, smirking when Marc gasped, legs instinctively going around Lucas’s waist. Marc giggled, his breaths making Lucas’s hair flutter. “Put me down. You’re going to hurt yourself,” said Marc, running his hands over Lucas’s back, exploring his muscles through his thin shirt. “How’re you going to explain throwing your back out to your trainer?”
Lucas growled and ducked his head to bite the join of Marc’s shoulder and neck sharply. “I’m in no danger of throwing my back out,” he assured Marc. Marc wasn’t a lightweight by any means, and Lucas probably couldn’t do this for long, but still. He laved his tongue over the imprint of his teeth. “Now where’s your bedroom?”
Onwards, Upwards 