by G. A. Hauser
Steve slowed down slightly knowing Mark was much faster in a sprint than he was. “So? Now you suddenly want to model? Is this a career change, or in addition to Parsons and Co.?”
“No. Not a career change. I just thought it might be good for a laugh.”
“You’re jealous of Angel Loveday.”
“Oh, shut up. You do say the most unbelievable things.”
“I just don’t understand this sudden need to be photographed.”
“I did it before. You remember that male nude coffee table book? American Male-Men?”
“Yes, though I’ve never seen it. How could I forget? Larsen has like ten copies.”
“Two. He has two.”
“Look, you want me to take some naked shots of you, stick them on the web and expose your nice big cock for you?”
“Shut up, Steven.”
“Hey, now look who’s increasing the pace! Slow the fuck down or we’ll never make it four miles.”
“I didn’t say they would be pornographic. Why do you have such a demented mind?”
“Because I’ve seen you naked, and if I were to take photos of you, they’d be showing your lusciously large male anatomy.”
“Not all models show off their privates. I was thinking more of headshots anyway.” Mark adjusted the brim of his cap over his sunglasses in the glare.
“Look, you do what you like. If you think it’ll be fun, go for it.”
“Thank you. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
When Mark felt Steve’s hand on his ass, he twisted back to look at him in exasperation. “You’re trying to make me trip.”
“No, I’m trying to cop a feel.”
“You’ll get your feel later, copper.”
“Mmm, can’t fucking wait.”
Mark laughed at him as the pace began to get more grueling.
Mark couldn’t breathe they were running so hard. As they neared their home on the last leg of their run they tended to race to the finish. After four miles of boiling heat and a pace much faster than Mark would have liked, Steve bolted to the front of the house, competitive in every way.
Letting up before they both smacked into the front door to ‘tag’ the finish line, Mark halted, allowing Steve to slap the wood and ‘win’. Leaning over his knees, Mark gasped for air as the sweat dripped down his body and into his eyes.
“Son of a bitch, it’s hot.” Steve groaned, untying his key from his shoelace.
Taking off his cap and sunglasses Mark mopped up his face with his drenched t-shirt. “You always have to make it into a competition.”
“I have to be better than you at something, Richfield.” Steve pushed back the door and they both groaned with relief at the air-conditioned coolness.
Heading to the refrigerator, Mark removed two bottles of water, handing one to Steve and gulping his. Finally able to breathe normally, Mark took off his shirt to use to soak up the sweat that continued to pour out of him as he cooled down.
Steve flicked his tongue over Mark’s exposed nipple.
Raising his eyebrow at the gesture, Mark inspected the demonic expression on his lover’s face. “Give me a minute. I’m not twenty any longer.”
“Maybe not, but you have the body of a twenty year old.” Steve wrapped around Mark, licking the slow moving drops of sweat from Mark’s chest. “And you weren’t too old for an orgy with Keith and Carl.”
“Oh, that,” Mark moaned, remembering he and Steve having a four-way sexual romp with the two hottest stars on cable television. “I think my multiple-partner days are over. It was fun, but…”
“But?” Steve sucked one of Mark’s nipples, biting it between his lip-covered teeth.
“I just want you, Officer Miller. I think thirty-seven is too old to be playing around like that.”
Leaning back, Steve asked, “Really?”
“Yes, love. Really.” Mark finished the water in his bottle and tossed it into the kitchen sink. Steve had his arms wrapped around Mark’s waist, preventing him from going anywhere.
“Is that why you want to do this modeling thing?” Steve asked. “Because you feel as if you’re getting older?”
Hating to admit it, Mark lowered his eyelashes. “I won’t be attractive forever, Steve. And once I’m old, what will be left of me but memories of my looks?”
Parting from him, Steve raised Mark’s chin up so he would meet his eyes. “There’s more to you than your beauty, Mark.”
Laughing sadly, Mark replied, “Sure there is. And you would have been attracted to my personality if I looked different.”
“Cut this shit out.” Steve shook him. “Do you think I’m that shallow that all I wanted you for was your body?”
Mark instantly met Steve’s blue eyes. A sharp pain seared through Mark’s chest. He knew he was an emotional mess. If it wasn’t for his sex appeal, he’d be alone.
“Mark?”
“Let me shower. I’m hot.” Turning away from Steve’s irritated expression, Mark climbed the stairs to their bedroom. He stood next to their bed, shedding the rest of his clothing and leaving it in a damp pile for the laundry basket. Hearing Steve undressing behind him, Mark stepped into the bathroom. Before he turned on the shower he peeked at the mirror.
The first thing he found was his eyes. Bright green irises framed by long, dark thick lashes. Taking the rubber band out of his hair, he combed through its damp, sweaty length, feeling it brush the nape of his neck and shoulders.
With both palms he leaned on the sink and stared critically at his features. He’d been compared to a woman his whole life; called pretty, fag, androgynous, Ganymede, and everything under the sun to slam whatever was left of his manhood. His father was abusive. Being an only child, Mark had to bear the brunt of all Milt Richfield’s anger and frustration. No matter what Mark had achieved, his dominating father never saw fit to praise him. It wasn’t Mark’s fault his mother was a cold fish. Why was he to blame for all the spats between his parents?
Mark leaned on his best friend Jack Larsen for support all through college. Though he put up a front of confidence, Mark was insecure and weak, relying on the men in his life for the strength he needed.
Steve appeared in the mirror’s reflection. As he wrapped around Mark from behind, looking at him from over his shoulder in the glass, Mark met his loving light eyes.
“What’s going on, Mark?” Steve rocked him gently.
Biting his lip as he fought for a way to explain how he felt, Mark exhaled a deep breath first. “Steven. I feel like Dorian Gray. That everything I’ve done in my life will turn me into what I really am inside.”
“And what are you inside?” Steve kissed Mark’s neck.
“Ugly.”
Steve urged Mark around so they were facing each other. Mark felt the press of Steve’s hot genitals against his own.
“You are not ugly, Mark. Far from it. You’re loving, kind, and sweet.”
“You’re biased because you are attracted to my looks.”
“What’s brought all this on?” Steve toyed with the long tresses of Mark’s hair.
“There’s too much going through my mind at the moment.”
“Can I help? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Mark attempted to break the embrace to get to the shower. Steve held him firm.
“Why do I get the feeling this is all coming on the heels of that sex we had with Keith and Carl?”
It was. Steve had it dead on. What Steve did not know, was that he had a three-way with those men the day before they all got together. In other words, he cheated on Steve only to bring him in on the event later to appease his guilt. Not only that, but Keith O’Leary had manipulated Steve to allow Mark to do a guest appearance on their late night cable television drama, Forever Young.
The shame was beginning to gnaw at Mark. And that didn’t even begin to open up the dam of emotion of what all of this playing around had done to his best friend, Jack Larsen.
Mark was furious with himself. Ego. Ego and pride had on
ce again led Mark down the wrong path. And now he was living to regret it.
“Mark?”
“Let me shower.” Mark reached into the stall and turned on the taps. Feeling Steve running kisses down his neck and shoulders, Mark bit back the tears knowing he didn’t deserve a man as wonderful as Steven Jay Miller.
Waiting his turn as Mark wet down under the spraying head, Steve pulled leisurely on his own cock as it grew excited. Looking at Mark, his tall sleek body, his bronze flawless skin and large male anatomy, soft, and hanging low between his legs, Steve salivated. Yes, Mark’s looks were a complete turn-on, but if Mark was nasty and conceited, those looks would mean nothing. Mark Antonious Richfield was as soft and voluptuous as a woman on the inside. Feline eyes and movements, long thick shiny hair, and the biggest dick Steve had ever seen on a man, Mark was everything Steve wanted and more. Kneeling, Steve opened his lips and allowed Mark’s soft penis into his mouth. The water from the shower ran down Mark’s golden skin and against Steve’s face.
As Steve drew Mark’s cock completely inside him, it pulsated and grew. Closing his eyes to the pelting water, Steve wrapped his right hand around Mark’s hips and toyed with his heavy sack with his other.
A low groan echoed around the wet tiles. Steve knew once Mark was completely erect he wouldn’t be able to fit him entirely inside his mouth. He never could get all of it in no matter how he tried. Steve had an image flash of Keith O’Leary, that sexy blue-eyed blond superstar sucking Mark’s cock and Carl Bronson, Keith’s muscular brunette co-star, enveloping Mark’s balls. All while Steve clasped his hands at the base of Mark’s penis at the same time to make Mark shiver and come. Just thinking about it caused Steve to whimper in excitement and his dick to bob in yearning.
Those two handsome actors wanted Mark so badly they seduced Steve just so he would agree. And the image of Mark on his hands and knees taking it up the ass from him and sucking Keith’s dick at the same time was an image Steve would never forget.
Moaning louder than Mark from his carnal thoughts and cravings, Steve gripped the base of Mark’s long shaft in two hands and drew as hard as he could on it to the tip, sliding it as deeply as he dared into his throat. He tasted Mark’s pre-come nectar of the gods, on his tongue. So few had the privilege of having sex with this man, Steve knew he was lucky to have found him. He stole Mark away from Sharon Tice. Snatched Mark from the altar of their wedding day- mid-vows. And now Mark was his. Not Jack’s, not Sharon’s, not Keith’s, nor Carl’s, but his.
And Steve was as possessive as a dog with his favorite bone over this man. Possessive and defensive. As an ex-LAPD cop, Steve wanted to protect and serve one man, till his death.
That throaty gasp of Mark’s always sent shivers down Steve’s spine. Increasing his speed and suction, Steve reached between Mark’s legs and found his tight ring, pushing in.
Those delicious whimpering cries, Ah! Ah! sent Steve wild. A vibrating throbbing rattled Mark’s long cock and Steve began swallowing down the load. Groaning, closing his eyes tighter at the taste and quantity of Mark’s come, Steve could live on his knees before this man and be happy.
Bracing himself on the tile and shower door, Mark felt the reverberation of the orgasm rock his body. Before he could recover, Steve had spun him to face the wall, shoving his dick up his ass. Mark closed his eyes as Steve’s soapy cock slid in deep and fast. Shivering at the penetration, loving Steve’s body inside his, Mark went numb from the overload to his senses. This macho tough guy knew what he wanted. An alpha male in every way, Steve was the top to Mark’s bottom exclusively. And Mark would have it no other way.
He loved getting it in the end, loved it. And playing submissive to this amazing masculine ex-cop was pure fantasy. Why he would do anything to jeopardize it, Mark didn’t know.
It didn’t take long. With Steve, it rarely did. Mark remembered Steve’s conversations in the dark, how he used to learn tricks to hold back so he could please Sonja Knight, his ex-attorney girlfriend. It didn’t matter anymore. Steve could spurt in one second. Mark didn’t need him to stay hard to come, not like a woman. Though saying that, Mark didn’t want Steve to pull out either. The heat, the connection, and the unity, made Mark feel whole. When Steve was inside him, Mark felt worthy.
As Steve’s thrusting hips slapped Mark’s wet bottom, Steve’s hands gripped Mark’s flaccid cock. Steve climaxed. Hearing Steve’s deep grunting, feeling Steve’s weight nail him to the wall, Mark closed his eyes. It was the only time he was at peace.
Gently, Steve disconnected from Mark’s body, holding Mark’s hips as he did.
“I love you,” Steve hissed seductively.
Smiling, Mark always heard an ‘I love you’ after Steve fucked him. Maybe it was Steve’s way of thanking him.
As a tease, Mark replied, “You’re welcome.”
There was no jovial laugh in response. Steve urged Mark to turn around. When Mark did, he found anguish in Steve’s expression. He wasn’t prepared for that. “What did I do now?”
“Nothing. Get over here.” Steve embraced him, kissing Mark deeply, his tongue hard inside Mark’s mouth like a miniature cock. When Steve parted from Mark’s lips he whispered, “Don’t worry. Whatever it is you’re thinking about. Don’t let it upset you.”
Smiling at his hero, his savior, Mark whispered back, “I do love you. You know that.”
Steve gripped Mark’s jaw roughly, making Mark look at him. “I know.”
About the Author:
Award-winning author G. A. Hauser was born in Fair Lawn, New Jersey, and attended university in New York City. She moved to Seattle, Washington, where she worked as a patrol officer with the Seattle Police Department. In early 2000 G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England, where she began her writing in earnest and published her first book, In the Shadow of Alexander. Now a full-time writer in Ohio, G.A. has written dozens of novels, including several bestsellers of gay fiction. For more information on other books by G.A., visit the author at her official website at:
www.authorga.com.
Other works by G.A. Hauser:
Acting Naughty (Action! Book One)
Mark Antonious deMontford
Murphy’s Hero
The Vampire and the Man-eater
Exposure
Leather Boys (Men in Motion Book Four)
Driving Hard (Men in Motion Book Three)
Cruising (Men in Motion Book Two)
Mile High (Men in Motion Book One)
The Boy Next Door
When Adam Met Jack
To have and to Hostage
Giving Up the Ghost
Capital Games
Secrets and Misdemeanors
Naked Dragon
Love you, Loveday
The Kiss
For Love and Money
A Question of Sex
A Recommended Read:
Lessons In Love
Charlie Cochrane
St. Bride’s College, Cambridge, England, 1905.
When Jonty Stewart takes up a teaching post at the college where he studied, the handsome and outgoing young man acts as a catalyst for change within the archaic institution. He also has a catalytic effect on Orlando Coppersmith.
Orlando is a brilliant, introverted mathematician with very little experience of life outside the college walls. He strikes up an alliance with the outgoing Jonty, and soon finds himself having feelings he’s never experienced before. Before long their friendship blossoms into more than either man had hoped and they enter into a clandestine relationship.
Their romance is complicated when a series of murders is discovered within St. Bride’s. All of the victims have one thing in common, a penchant for men. While acting as the eyes and ears for the police, a mixture of logic and luck leads them to a confrontation with the murderer—can they survive it?
This is a publication of
Linden Bay Romance
WWW.LINDENBAYROMANCE.COM
; G.A. Hauser, Playing Dirty