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When he was seventeen, Alexander fell in love with stable hand Ryan. But on the night they were going to have sex for the first time, Alex’s father drove a wedge between them that forced Ryan to flee to California. For years afterward, Alex hid his pain as a switch in a string of wild bisexual relationships. Now Alex has matured and become a powerful sports agent with a dark secret.
Dr. Ryan Hathaway spent years fulfilling his dream of being an orthopedic surgeon, sacrificing his relationship with Alex to get there. When an injured athlete brings the unrequited lovers together, their feelings return, stronger and hotter than ever. Even though Alex has broken his heart many times, Ryan, a Dom, vows to seduce his man once and for all. Nothing—not Alex’s physical and emotional scars, or Alex’s closed-minded father’s illness—will keep Ryan from collaring the only man he has ever loved.
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An Excerpt From: PLAYING DOCTOR
Copyright © FRANCES STOCKTON, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
“Staring at my ass will not get this wall painted, Doc,” Alex Grant told the man standing at the bottom of the stairs.
He’d heard Dr. Ryan Hathaway enter the house, make his way to the basement, close the door and walk down the steps. He’d felt Ryan’s eyes on his ass for the last ten minutes.
Rather than acknowledge how fast his heart was racing, Alex kept sweeping the paint-laden roller brush up and down, up and down, being careful not to let any paint hit the drop cloths strewn about the floor.
Thankfully, the oscillating fans, small screened windows and ventilation system in the basement kept the paint fumes from being overwhelming. Closing the door was necessary to keep the two mischievous kittens romping upstairs from getting into the basement and making a mess with the paint.
“Maybe not,” Ryan agreed. “After watching the way you shook that fine ass on a telethon two weeks ago, I haven’t stopped thinking about owning it.”
Alex refused to look back. He would soon, but he wasn’t ready. He knew once he took that step and actually talked to the man he’d wanted to bottom, top, hell, anything Ryan wanted, there’d be no place he could run.
“For the record, I didn’t shake anything. That was Kung Fu.”
“Yes, I was there. Were you shirtless to earn donations for the fundraiser or to impress Phalen Maddox? Those tats on your forearms are his work, yes?”
“I wouldn’t let anyone but Phalen or the Maddox brothers carve ink into my skin. Don’t be jealous, Doc. Phalen’s closer to me than a brother. Fucking him would be wrong on way too many levels to count. Plus, he’s loved Cassie Williams since they met.”
“If you’re sincere about that, then I made the right decision to move here,” Ryan said, breaking away from the stairs. Aware of each step Ryan took, Alex kept his focus on the wall.
“Cassie’s an amazing lady. I can see why Phalen fell for her. She’s been nothing but sweet, open and friendly since I showed up at the telethon. She helped me find a hotel, gave me free meals at the diner whenever I needed it and today offered the use of her apartment in
Alex kept painting the stark white wall sage green. “And she managed to coax you out of
“Appropriate for a club basement.” Ryan stopped before reaching Alex and knelt down to grab his own roller and dip it into the roller pan. “I like the antique bar and the regulation-sized pool table. We should play sometime. You used to be damn good with a cue stick.”
“I’m still damn good with a stick,” Alex stated, pretending confidence when his insides had gone all mushy like a girl.
He might damn well be gay, but he wasn’t feminine by any means. Neither was Ryan for that matter, making it that much more difficult to ignore him.
“Not that you’ll find out until you apologize,” he said, emphasizing the word apologize.
“Apologize for what? I told you that I needed to think without your guilt trip influencing my decision. Cassie’s phone call was the push I needed to take a leap of faith in you. I won’t apologize for it.”
Alex stayed silent, waiting to see if Ryan would clarify that.
“I realize admitting that means my chances of having your ass anytime soon are about a snowball’s chances in hell. But I won’t lie to you, ever.”
“Then I owe you the same respect. If Cassie or Phalen conned you into helping to paint their basement while they’re on a date, paint. There’s beer in the fridge over by the bar and I’m ordering pizza later.”
Alex recoated his roller and started in on a new section, leaving room for Ryan to paint alongside of him.
Strangely, they fell into an easy rhythm and the first wall was finished without a drop of sage seeping through the drop cloth and staining the new dark-green carpeting. They managed to complete more than half of another wall before speaking again.
“Talk to me, Alex,” Ryan insisted. “You’re too old to continue this tantrum of yours.”
“It’s not a tantrum,” Alex stated.
“Avoiding my phone calls, texts, PMs, emails and moving in with another man is a tantrum.” Ryan lowered his right hand. “Might as well hold your breath and stomp your feet.”
“There’s no other man for me but you, Doc. The least you could have done was call and let me know you were coming here. Shocked the fuck out of me to see you answering phones beside one of my best friends,” Alex confessed, trying to keep his voice neutral. Not easy when the sexiest man on Earth was standing right next to him.
Despite the scent of wet paint and plastic drop cloths, Alex could smell the woody, citrus, jasmine and bergamot scent of Doc’s cologne, Clive Christian No. 1. Recognizing the cologne because he’d given it to Ryan as Christmas present last year, he almost smiled until his traitorous cock leaped in his jeans.
Hell, once he became an agent, he stopped wearing jeans unless it was absolutely necessary. But right now, he was damn glad the faded blue denim succeeded in keeping his present state of arousal private.
Surreptitiously, he used his right hand to tug the tail of his navy tee shirt out of the waistband and let it hang loose. Never hurt to hide his cock until he was ready to give it to a man, especially this man.
“Why did you really move in with Phil Garrison?” Ryan asked as he ran the roller neatly over the wall. It didn’t surprise Alex that a man who’d made a career as an orthopedic surgeon and specialized in sports medicine had such steady hands.
“I’d thought you weren’t ready to leave
“And the fact that you boasted of your living arrangements with Phil the first night I came to town wasn’t to make me jealous?”
“I didn’t want you to think I’m the kind of man who’ll ask ‘how high’ when you say, ‘jump’.”
“If you’d settle your fine ass down long enough to actually talk to me, you’d know I left
The sound of Ryan’s voice, so deep, dominant and familiar, hit Alex deep in his balls. He wanted Ryan to fuck him so badly, it hurt sometimes.
Ryan’s Southern drawl, a product of being born and raised in the Bluegrass State, had not been lost after all the years he’d spent in California. How bad was it that he could be turned-on by Ryan Hathaway’s voice?
Refusing to acknowledge that his jeans were suddenly uncomfortably tight at his fly, Alex bent down to dip his roller again. Succeeding only in nearly crushing his balls and seriously needing to adjust his hardening cock, he took a breath and straightened.
“Alex, look at me, please,” Ryan suggested, then set his roller brush aside and stood tall.
Ryan’s please caused Alex to pause long enough to add his roller to the pan. Knowing he couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer, he slowly lifted his chin to stare at his man. Could it actually happen this time? Could he stop running away long enough to give their relationship a chance?
He wanted to believe love, the kind that his best friends, Kyran and Phalen, had experienced so recently, was his for the taking. However, he wasn’t sure Ryan could accept his scars and issues. As much as Alex wanted to be Ryan’s bottom, he was scared out of his mind. He hadn’t bottomed for any man since
Ryan stood there, boldly challenging Alex to look his fill. Sweet god, Dr. Ryan Hathaway had gotten sexier since he’d last seen him two weeks ago. Alex had been so shocked, and so hurt, to see Ryan taking donations that he’d forgotten how to speak.
He, Alexander Grant, the master of contract negotiations and multimillion-dollar deals for his clients, hadn’t been able to say more than, “Nice to see you again, Doc.”
Pride, pain and fear had kept him from falling to his knees and begging for an explanation or an apology…or forgiveness.
“Alex?” Ryan prodded, taking the first step forward.
Alex stepped back, almost colliding into the freshly painted wall. “What do you want me to say or do, Doc?”
“Tell me I haven’t made a mistake in trusting you again.”
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