by Amy Lane
The pop of his cockhead wasn’t audible—but they both gave broken moans of relief.
“Better?” he asked, sweating. Oh wow. Look at him. He was inside. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Good,” Clay said, voice thready. “Now move a little. Please. Like you can move, right? That would be great. If you could move. Yes. Like that. But… oh God. Like that but more. Don’t stop!”
Dane gave his evil sex-god laugh again. “Not stopping,” he promised, because the rush of topping was tingling in his balls. “Oh my God, not stopping.”
He bottomed out, tightly sealed against Clay’s backside, and Clay buried his face in the pillows and groaned, “Yes!”
So Dane pulled out slowly and did it again.
And again.
And faster.
Clay pulled a pillow in front of his mouth and screamed in pleasure, urging Dane on with every grunt and cry, and Dane—Dane was like a freight train. Nothing but orgasm was going to stop him now.
It happened in a rush. Clay spasmed hard around his cock, and not even the pillow could muffle his tearing groan of completion, and Dane had no choice. His hips rocketed forward, rutting madly, which was stupid because, oh my God, it was here, it was rushing everywhere, from his spine to behind his eyeballs, and yes! He was coming! Hard and fierce! Deep inside his lover’s body where they could never be unmade!
He wasn’t sure if he’d been shouting or not, but when he fell forward on top of Clay, he knew his throat was swollen.
Maybe it was the tears.
“Hey,” Clay murmured, rolling a little to the side. He sounded floaty and out of it, and Dane smiled. He loved that feeling. He’d given that to Carpenter. His eyes burned more. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s really wonderful,” he said softly. “I used to think….” How did he put this? “I used to think I’d never be so happy on meds. After that first kiss with you, I was so worried I’d never get that again, because the medication would fuzz it out. That my world would flatline—even touching the guy I cared about more than anything would just be… okay. That I’d be just okay my whole life. But right now, you’re here. We just did that. It was awesome. You’re going to move in, and our lives are going to be okay, and it’s like I can touch the sky. But even if I do, I won’t fall back down, I’ll float.”
“Mm.” Clay closed his eyes and kissed him gently, his mouth opening for Dane’s in a sort of languorous surrender. “Can I float down with you? I am feeling so high.”
Dane laughed, but it was a gentle laugh. “Yeah, baby. We can float down together. Let me go get a washcloth.”
“Not yet,” Clay said dreamily. “Kiss me again first. I’m still excited that you’re here at the end of the kiss.”
“Always.” Dane felt confidence promising that—a kind of confidence he’d never felt before. “I’ll always be here at the end of the kiss.”
“Good.”
Their lips met, and Dane closed his eyes and sank into the afterglow.
The next morning, when they were changing the sheets and vacuuming rose petals, he realized that the chocolate he’d left on the bed stand had gone untouched. He didn’t mention it to Clay, but it made him incredibly happy to know that Clay hadn’t eaten a single feeling that night.
He’d given them all to Dane and had them returned a thousand times.
October
DANE WATCHED Carpenter’s face carefully as he spoke to Skipper, hoping it was going well. He’d almost taken back his mother’s invitation, the one for Mason, Terry, Dane, and Carpenter to go down to Redwood City and have Thanksgiving with her and his father, but he hadn’t wanted to. The chance for his parents to meet Terry and Clay was just too wonderful to pass up.
But it was still going to bother Carpenter that he’d have to leave Skipper behind.
Skipper looked a little disappointed as they spoke, but not hurt, and Dane breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did he ask yet?” Mason asked anxiously, getting to the party a little late. He’d been by Terry’s place doing God knows what—or, well, Dane had an idea, but they looked that happy all the time, so there was no telling if they’d actually had sex or if this was just residual afterglow from, like, every night they’d spent together since their reunion in August.
“Just now,” Dane told him. “I think Skip’s going to be okay.”
“Okay is fine,” Mason said. “Did he agree to watch your big needy whiny furballs while we’re gone? Oh. Also, Terry’s moving in. Now you know.”
Dane blinked at him. “That’s… new.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve wanted him to move in since March, but he wasn’t ready. Now he’s ready. There’s going to be four of us in the damned house. Aren’t you glad it’s got four bedrooms?”
Actually, yes. Carpenter had given up his lease in September, and his transition from lover to roommate and lover had been pretty damned seamless. They’d converted one of the spare bedrooms to a gaming room so they could game while Mason and Terry watched television in the living room downstairs. It was as close as they could get to having two houses, right next door to each other, without paying California’s outrageous cost of living.
“Very,” Dane said dryly, and then he remembered that he was happy for Mason and Squirrel-Bait. He’d almost forgiven Terry for the breakup in the first place. “And congratulations. Now stop bagging on my cats. They love you best, you know.”
Oh, they really did.
Dane had been so excited to find two Maine coon mixes to adopt, a brother and a sister. He’d discovered that brushing them was a form of tactile therapy—it literally raised his endorphins to the point where he felt a pleasant buzz. Sitting next to Clay while watching a movie and brushing the cats was one of his favorite ways to unwind now—and probably one of the reasons this school year felt so much less stressful than the last one.
Of course, part of that was Clay, and part of that was his friends. Another part was having Mason settled and happy, and the fact he’d chosen the slightly less stressful program, like his professor had suggested, and he refused to beat himself up over it.
He deserved to have cats. He deserved to have a boyfriend. And at the end of the year, he’d deserve to have a mildly decent paying job with health benefits and some stability.
Since Clay and Skipper had taken to their new positions like ducks to water and had been full of nothing but chatter about how exciting it was to help people transition into higher paying positions in the company, Dane had some hopes about that stability.
There were houses available in Mason’s neighborhood, and it had occurred to Dane that not living with a member of his blood family didn’t mean he was on his own. He didn’t want to move away from Mason, but it would be great to live across the street from him, right? Clay had a job that paid him grown-up wages now, and soon Dane could help with the mortgage. It would be living independently, something he’d almost given up on. But Mason would still be within the first shout of help if he needed it.
And they could always meet on Saturdays and play soccer. And come to parties after the game, like this one.
Carpenter was looking at him and smiling, gesturing with his chin, so Dane took his courage into both hands and walked over.
“Sorry, Skipper,” he said, and he meant it. “I didn’t mean to steal him from you.”
“Well, I’ll miss him,” Skip admitted. “But I guess we’ll have your ginormous kittens to watch while you’re gone. It’ll be just like you’re there!”
Clay snorted. “I mean, they’re just as hairy,” he said, indicating the scruff that he still didn’t conquer most days.
“Speak for yourself,” Dane said dryly. He’d been keeping his hair a little shorter, keeping his beard tightly trimmed. He didn’t mind looking hip—but he was done looking wild-eyed and unkempt.
“Yeah, well, you guys have thumbs, so your grooming is on your own. Anyway, I get it. Meeting your folks sort of takes precedence.”
Dane shrugged
. “They keep claiming they’re getting old. I think they want to see us happy.”
What Skip said next made Dane’s chest swell. “Well, this is going to be a good Thanksgiving for them. You guys are sort of revoltingly happy.”
“But you and Richie aren’t going to be alone, right?” Clay asked anxiously.
Skipper shrugged. “Naw—Thomas and Cooper will be over, at the very least.” He glanced to where their two teammates stood, shoulder to shoulder, and Dane’s radar started dinging fiercely.
“Uh… do you guys think they’re—”
Skipper shook his head violently and held his fingers to his lips. “We’re not going to say anything about that, okay? I think it’s spreading.”
“The gay thing?” Dane asked, enchanted. That was supposed to be a myth.
Skipper grinned. “Or the falling in love thing. Either way, the team is finally winning, and I don’t want to jinx it.” He sobered. “But me and Richie will be fine.” His face softened, and he regarded Clay with the fondness of a brother. “I appreciate you asking, though. A whole lot sure has happened this last year, hasn’t it?”
Clay nodded. “Yeah. Best year of my life.”
Skip grinned. He was taking classes through Tesko now—but he liked his job mentoring new employees so much, Dane wasn’t sure if he was going to move on to teaching high school. Either way, Dane remembered how Clay had looked at this man at the very beginning, and he realized he felt the same way.
“Mine too,” Skip said, his eyes searching Richie out in the crowd. “I mean, I knew soccer was magic, but this last year has been sort of amazing.”
“Yeah, Skipper,” Carpenter said, that dry humor of his at the forefront. “That’s what it was. The soccer.”
Skipper grinned at him, and the talk turned to work while Dane’s mind wandered.
That night as they pulled into the driveway, Clay paused before unlocking the SUV. The harvest moon was out, lighting the trees behind Mason’s house in a perfect silhouette.
“What?” Dane asked anxiously.
“It has been, you know,” Clay said, turning to him with luminous eyes.
“What?”
“A really good year. Best year of my life, actually.”
Dane smiled, taking that as the biggest win ever. “Really?”
“You know how much I love you, right?”
“As much as I love you?” Dane asked, even though he knew the answer.
“More,” Clay said, and they both grimaced.
“Really sappy,” Dane said, but Clay just looked so delicious.
“Super sweet,” Clay agreed.
“So true.” Dane leaned into the kiss and felt it again. That buzz, that high end of the roller coaster, that thrill.
But he knew this ride—this right here, in Clay’s arms, in the circle of his family and his friends—this was as safe as he’d ever been, as happy as he ever could be.
He’d take that win—he and Clay had earned it.
They’d be playing on this field forever and ever, until their last kiss and their last breath, because being together was the best game of their lives.
Yellow
Amy Lane Lite
Light Contemporary Romance
A Winter Ball Novel
Through a miserable adolescence and a lonely adulthood, Skipper Keith has dreamed of nothing but family. The closest he gets is the rec league soccer team he coaches after work—and his star player and best friend, Richie Scoggins.
One brisk night in late October, a postpractice convo in Richie’s car turns into a sexual encounter neither of them expected—nor want to forget. Soon Skip and Richie are living for the weekends and their winter league soccer games—and the games they enjoy off the field. Through broken noses, holiday decorating, and the killer flu, they learn more about each other than they ever dreamed possible. Every new discovery takes them further beyond the boundaries of the soccer field and into the infinite possibilities of the best relationship of Skipper’s life.
Skipper can’t dream of a better family than Richie—but Richie’s got real family entanglements he can’t shake off. Skipper needs to convince Richie to stay with him beyond winter ball so the relationship they started on the field might become their happy future in real life!
A Winter Ball Novel
Mason Hayes’s love life has a long history of losers who don’t see that Mason’s heart is as deep and tender as his mouth is awkward. He wants kindness, he wants love—and he wants someone who thinks sex is as fantastic as he does. When Terry Jefferson first asks him out, Mason thinks it’s a fluke: Mason is too old, too boring, and too blurty to interest someone as young and hot as his friend’s soccer teammate.
The truth is much more painful: Mason and Terry are perfectly compatible, and they totally get each other. But Terry is still living with his toxic, suffocating parent and Mason doesn’t want to be a sugar daddy. Watching Terry struggle to find himself is a long lesson in patience, but Mason needs to trust that the end result will be worth it, because finally, he’s found a man worth sharing his heart with.
Sometimes the best Christmas gift is knowing what you really want.
Rusty Baker is a rich, entitled, oblivious jock, and he might have stayed that way if he hadn’t become friends with out-and-proud Oliver Campbell from the wrong side of the tracks. When Oliver kisses him goodbye before Rusty leaves for college, Rusty is forced to rethink everything he knows about himself.
But nothing can help Rusty survive a semester at Stanford, and he returns home for Thanksgiving break clinging to the one thing he knows to be true: Oliver is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Rusty’s parents disagree, and Rusty finds himself homeless for the holidays. But with Oliver’s love and the help of Oliver’s amazing family, Rusty realizes that failing college doesn’t mean he can’t pass real life with flying rainbow colors.
Small dogs can make big changes… if you open your heart.
Carter Embree always hoped someone might rescue him from his productive, tragically boring, and (slightly) ethically compromised life. But when an urchin at a grocery store shoves a bundle of fluff into his hands, Carter goes from rescuee to rescuer—and he needs a little help.
Sandy Corrigan, the vet tech who eases Carter into the world of dog ownership, first assumes Carter is a crazy-pants client who just needs to relax. But as Sandy gets a glimpse of the funny, kind, sexy man under Carter’s mild-mannered exterior, he sees that with a little care and feeding, Carter might be “Super Pet Owner”—and decent boyfriend material to boot.
But Carter needs to see himself as a hero first. As he says goodbye to his pristine house and hello to carpet treatments and dog walkers, he finds there really is more to himself than a researching drudge without a backbone. A Carter Embree can rate a Sandy Corrigan. He can be supportive. He can be a man who stands up for his principles!
He can be the owner of a small dog.
Crispin Henry isn’t an adventurer. He learned early on that the world is a frightening place and that home is rare and precious. If his friends didn’t drag him to sports games and ill-advised trips to Vegas, he wouldn’t get out at all—and his trip to Munich for Oktoberfest is no exception. But it’s there that he meets Luka Gabriel, and he learns to take a chance.
Luka is a free-spirited world traveler, working at Oktoberfest to feed his enchantment with new places and new people. His only possessions fit in his backpack, and he depends on the kindness of strangers for a place to sleep. Crispin should know better. He takes Luka’s hand anyway, and together they turn three nights in Munich into the relationship neither of them has been brave enough to risk... and neither can let go of.
When Luka turns up on Crispin’s doorstep before the holiday season, Crispin takes him in on hope alone. Yes, he knows the odds are good Luka will flutter out of his life again and leave him bereft, but isn’t it worth it to see if Luka is a homebird after all?
Readers love the Winter Ball series by Amy L
ane
Winter Ball
“Everything about this story is perfect—from the rec league to Skip’s job, from the bumpy road to the amazing cast of characters. I love it.”
—Joyfully Jay
“This is a sweet, touching story with plenty of humor, sex that spans from tender to dirty, and a range of emotion that should satisfy anyone looking for a good character driven romance, especially friends-to-lovers fans.”
—Sinfully Gay Romance Book Reviews
Summer Lessons
“This series is a delight! If only we were all lucky enough to find such a wonderful group of friends.”
—The Novel Approach
“This read was a sweet and snarky romance with a whole lot of funny, dirty and sassy moments thrown in for good measure.”
—Gay Book Reviews
AMY LANE lives in a crumbling crapmansion with a couple of growing children, a passel of furbabies, and a bemused spouse. She’s been a finalist in the RITAs™ twice, has won honorable mention for an Indiefab, and has a couple of Rainbow Awards to her name. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action-adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and gay romance—and if you accidentally make eye contact, she’ll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She’ll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.
Website: www.greenshill.com
Blog: www.writerslane.blogspot.com