Title: Playing House
Series: Rough Play, Book Two
Author: Suzanne Clay
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: March 23, 2020
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage
Length: 80500
Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, college, new adult, bisexual, trans, queer, coming-of-age, ethical nonmonogamy, polyamory, threesome, homophobia, family issues, theater/acting, sex toys, dirty talk
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Synopsis
After six months deeply in love with
each other, childhood best friends Logan and Christian are excited for their
first summer away from home. With one year of college under their belts,
they’re ready to grow up and see what the rest of their lives will be like together
by strengthening their relationship over the next few months. But fate has
never followed their neat plans.
Christian receives an opportunity to
pursue one of his greatest unfulfilled passions: acting. It’s a chance to
explore a talent his parents crushed before he could dream of spending his life
studying it—but is he up to the challenge? Is it worth taking the risk, knowing
his family won’t support him?
Logan struggles with his attachment to
Christian and his fears of being left behind. If Christian’s career on the
stage takes off, will he abandon Logan and replace him with far better lovers?
And how can Logan be so hypocritical when another man has caught his eye? Or
has that man perhaps captured Christian’s attention as well?
Their relationship will be tested far
beyond their imagination—but love always has room to grow, even in the face of
fear.
Excerpt
Excerpt
Playing House
Suzanne Clay © 2020
All Rights Reserved
Logan’s muscles ached like hell. It
probably had something to do with the mountain of opened boxes sitting in the
corner of the small bedroom. With the massive bed taking up the lion’s share of
the sunshine-lit room, his empty moving boxes cluttered up the rest. Everything
still wasn’t in its place, but he couldn’t be mad about it right now. This was
home for the summer—away from Fulton State University.
Words couldn’t express how grateful he
was not to be going back to the little town of Greenbarrow. God knew he’d have
finer company here than there with his family.
The sound of footsteps crumpling plastic
bags on the floor behind Logan made him speak. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Don’t need to change when you’re
perfect.” Christian’s familiar drawl had the same effect on Logan that it
always did: a slow series of tingles drifted down his spine. “Don’t be roasting
me on how I pack shit.”
“You make it so easy.” Logan turned
around and pointed at the equally messy pile of empty bags. “That. Look at
that. I’ll buy you suitcases, duffel bags, anything you want—just stop putting
everything in a goddamn trash bag.”
Christian slung an arm around his shoulder
and kissed his cheek. “How much does it cost to get you to stop running your
mouth?”
Difficult to think of a price, really,
when goose bumps were still skittering over his arms. He turned his head and
found Christian’s mouth less than an inch away. “…half an hour of making out.”
“Done.”
With a solid shove to his back, Logan
landed facedown on the bed, then grunted when Christian’s weight crashed down
on him. Instincts kicked in—he dug his elbow into Christian’s side and shoved
him away, then rolled away to get a better position for wrestling.
Six months of dating, and they still
acted like they had every day of their thirteen years of friendship. It wasn’t
an easy habit to break. For every kiss they shared, there was Christian pinning
Logan down until he said uncle and swore he’d do the dishes that night. Each
evening they snuggled in one of the tiny bunk beds in their dorm, and they
couldn’t keep from shit-talking each other until their eyelids were heavy.
Weirdly, Logan thought being out of
college for the summer would make their relationship a little more like a
movie—soft, sweet, and romantic—but as he lunged for Christian and pinned an
arm to his chest, he realized things might never change. And he was okay with
that.
“I said making out,” Logan gritted out
as he batted one of Christian’s massive hands away before it could grab his
hair. “Not me kicking your ass again.”
Christian laughed breathlessly. He
snagged the back of Logan’s neck. “This is just foreplay, baby, don’t be
silly.”
Baby. He still wasn’t used to that
either. The air caught in Logan’s chest long enough for Christian to put him on
his back. With the sight of his stunning boyfriend rising above him, all dark
skin and dangerous eyes and smirking lips, he didn’t much feel like fighting
anymore.
Whatever energy was overflowing in
Christian seemed to dissipate. He trailed the back of his fingers down Logan’s
cheek, leaving a path of fire behind them. One finger snagged in the neckline
of Logan’s T-shirt as Christian bit his bottom lip and sighed.
The mood changed fast with Christian,
and Logan never knew how to keep up. Not even after all this time. All he could
do was watch him with a sense of wonder and see what he was going to do.
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab
some food now that we’re done unpacking,” Christian murmured. He tugged at
Logan’s shirt, and the hook in his belly yanked even harder. “Now I’m pretty
sure I wanna eat you.”
Logan exhaled sharply. “You know you
don’t gotta ask.”
Christian crashed down, their lips
smashing together painfully, as he dug his fingers into Logan’s thick curls. As
he shoved Logan back on the mattress to try to get better leverage, something
fell to the floor, and Christian lifted his head with a huff. “The fuck is
that? Are you already breaking shit?”
“Me?” Logan shoved him with a laugh,
then rolled over to reach for the fallen binder. “C’mon, this is gonna make you
feel old as fuck. You ready?”
“Aw, hell.” Christian lay on his side,
head supported by his hand. “What’s this?”
Logan opened the binder. Inside were a
few memories that he wouldn’t have shown anybody else for love or money—but
Christian was different. He was the man he loved. And these little treasures
included him too.
“Oh my God.” When Logan held a
photograph toward Christian, he took it with another rough chuckle. “You’ve
gotta be kidding me.”
“So cute,” Logan teased, and Christian
elbowed him.
It was an old, battered photo of
Christian as a child in his first-ever church play. Some girl was trying to
pull off her shoe in the background, and a boy was going completely off-script
and pushing someone off the stage, but Christian stood very seriously at the
front of the stage as he delivered some poorly written line or another.
“Jesus Christ,” Christian breathed,
shaking his head, and Logan threw an arm around his waist with a grin,
snuggling closer to see better. Christian scoffed. “Damn. Probably a good thing
I never went after that shit. I look stupid.”
“You’re a kid. You all looked stupid.”
Logan left a messy kiss on his cheek.
“Funny.” Christian set the photo aside,
then pulled something out from the other sleeve of the binder. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s…” Logan reached to take it
away, but Christian was sitting up out of reach. “Hey, c’mon—”
“Ooh, I remember now! Baby’s first
monologue!”
Logan made another dive, driving
Christian to his feet. “Don’t! It’s awful, man, give it.”
“Not a chance in hell!” Christian turned
his back to him and began to recite. “Family. Is there any deeper hell than
family? Is there—”
Logan couldn’t listen to a word. With
strength he hadn’t used since they’d started dating, he practically crawled up
Christian’s shoulders and snatched the paper away with such force that he
ripped it free from the fingerhold of paper Christian had. “No, we’re throwing
this shit away right now.” The mere memory of how enthralled he’d been by
Christian performing it when they were teenagers was embarrassing.
“Hey, hey.” Christian grabbed Logan’s
shoulders, but when he didn’t reach for the paper again, Logan stayed still,
tension in his chest. “Just ’cuz we were young and awful when we did that shit
don’t mean we shouldn’t keep it. Remember where we came from. You know?”
Logan scoffed an unamused laugh. Yeah,
great to keep it around when we’re never gonna get to follow those dreams
again. Right.
“Logan?”
“Just put it away, man.” He offered the
paper over his shoulder, then turned his head to watch and make sure Christian
did as he asked instead of being an asshole.
The knock on the door drew Logan’s
attention back to the present. “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me!”
“Just Noah,” Christian said absently.
“Who the fuck else would it be?”
“Shut up.” Logan laughed, but moved to
open the door.
“Hey!” Noah grinned up at him, flushed
from his own exertions of unpacking. “Just wanted to let you know we’ve got
cookies!”
“Cookies?”
“Yep! From Daiki.” Noah gestured behind
him, and Logan leaned until he could see a bouquet of sweets set up on the
tiny, scratched dining room table. “He sent a note too. He says he wishes he
could be here.”
The bed creaked behind Logan as Christian
spoke. “You’re actually sharing your boyfriend’s cookies with both of us? Now,
that’s friendship.”
Noah chuckled. “It’s not that big a
sacrifice—I can’t eat that many anyway.” He blinked. “I wasn’t interrupting
anything, was I?”
“Nah,” Christian drawled. “We were
having a walk down memory lane. Then I thought I’d maybe fuck Logan’s brains
out. The usual.”
Logan turned his head, cheeks flaming.
“Shut up!”
“Just saying.” Christian shrugged.
“Oh! Uh. Right. Right.” Noah stepped
back into the hallway, his hands raised. “You know what? I think I’m going to
run to the grocery store, so, uh, if you guys need anything, just text me, I’ll
pick it up, no problem…” He was still talking as he grabbed his keys and walked
straight out the front door.
Christian immediately burst out
laughing, grabbing his bare stomach. “Did you see the look on his face?”
“Oh, you don’t think he’s entitled? Are
you just gonna announce every time you wanna fuck me?” Logan shut the door and
went for his belt with a roll of his eyes. Christian might be obnoxious
sometimes, but it didn’t stop the fact that his gut was stirred up, eager for a
distraction from the binder Christian had tossed to the floor.
The look Christian gave him—dripping
with heat and invitation—scalded Logan’s skin. Christian licked his lips, his
gaze drifting down, down, down, until it rested on Logan’s hands. “Well, it’s
just damn polite, ain’t it? Unless you don’t want me to. You want him to be
surprised when he sits there and hears us fuck every time?”
That was a bizarre thought, one that
made Logan snort and roll his eyes and completely ignore the lift of carbonated
bubbles in his chest, around his heart. No, instead of thinking about it, Logan
kicked his pants off and crawled on top of Christian and got caught up in how
goddamn lucky he was. He’d spent months thinking he’d never get to have this,
but here they were, safe in their own bedroom, with a bed they could sleep in
side by side and a roommate who wasn’t going to throw a fit if they made love to
each other in the middle of a weekend afternoon. As far as Logan was concerned,
there was nothing ahead of them but hope and light.
He was lucky—too lucky—and he refused to
think about what might happen if that luck ever ran out.
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