Sloan’s Favorites: “We see each other now” from #GayRomance HOW TO HEAL A LIFE

Here’s another one of my picks for my “Favorite Scenes” blog series. It’s from HOW TO HEAL A LIFE. I love the contrast of how great Seth feels in this moment vs. how vulnerable Vargas is when he shares his fears with Seth.

Ten minutes later they were dressed and Seth was headed out the door, his cell phone in his pocket. In one hand, he had the end of Charlie’s leash, and in the other was his cane. Vargas watched from the apartment door as Seth and Charlie made the trek down the hallway toward the back of the club.

Seth hesitated at the top of the stairs.

Vargas gave him a nod of encouragement. “You can do this.”

“Yeah.” Seth faced the steps once more, and without another look back, he started down.

Vargas waited until he heard the door at the base of the steps open. Before it closed, he wanted to shout that Seth shouldn’t be ashamed to call if he needed help, but he held back. Seth knew he could count on him.

The door clanked shut.

After thirty minutes, Vargas was pacing his living room, glancing at the clock on the wall every two minutes. He’d been driving himself crazy running through possible scenarios of what was happening to Seth. Hell, he would’ve gone down the back stairs and waited at the door that led to the parking lot if he didn’t think that might hurt Seth’s feelings.

He quit the pacing and dropped onto the couch. Leaning forward, he held his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand to wait.

He checked the clock again.

Then he heard low voices outside the apartment, followed by the door unlocking. He shot to his feet.

Seth opened the door, and Charlie bounded in, heading straight for his water dish in the kitchen. Seth set his phone and the dog’s leash on the hall table by the door, moving deliberately, carefully. Vargas couldn’t read the expression on his face, and he hated that. He thought he’d gotten pretty good at knowing what Seth was feeling or thinking, at least whether it was a positive or negative emotion.

Seth leaned his cane against the wall. He kicked off his tennis shoes, continuing with the measured movements. When he was done, he straightened and finally met Vargas’s stare.

The smile was immediate and lit up Seth’s entire face. “I did it.” He bounded forward and lunged for Vargas. “I did it! I did it! I did it!”

Vargas hugged him. “Yeah, you did. It went okay, then?”

Seth pulled back, that huge-ass grin still locked in place. “Yep. I didn’t freak out at all. It felt great to be outside with Charlie, in the sunshine, with the breeze and the fresh air. We made it all the way to the park on Summit.”

“That’s fantastic.”

He gave Vargas a look of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You did this. Not me.”

“I know. But I don’t think I ever could’ve gotten here without you.”

“That’s not true at all.”

Then those stark, honest words Seth had said struck Vargas in the gut like a punch. All this time and he hadn’t ever thought that maybe…

His stomach churned as that doubt spread and took on greater life.

Seth stepped away, moving with a fluidity that he never had with the cane. “God, I feel so good.”

The last thing in the world Vargas wanted to do was deflate that happiness. He plastered a smile on his face right as Seth turned back to him.

“I feel like I could do anything.”

“You can.”

Seth nodded. “I want to go to school and study accounting.” He whirled around and took a few steps away again as if he couldn’t keep still. “That probably sounds boring to most people, but I’m really excited about it.”

“You should be. It’s a great idea.”

Seth faced him again. All at once his expression fell. He returned to stand before Vargas. “What is it?” He grasped Vargas’s face in his hands, searching his eyes for something. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Vargas pulled away.

“Vargas.”

“I’m going to make us some of that baked apple oatmeal you like. We can climb back in bed and have breakfast there if you want.” He started for the kitchen.

“Vargas?”

He kept going. His hands shook as he got the oatmeal out of the cupboard and then went for a pot in the cabinet next to the stove. Fuck. He had to get himself together.

Seth halted in the kitchen doorway. “Why are you lying to me?”

Vargas turned away. He couldn’t face him. He got out the bag of apples and began washing them. “Can we talk about this later?”

There was a tug on his arm. Seth didn’t let up until he had him spun around. The stare was insistent. “If this thing between us is going to work, you have to talk to me. No matter what it’s about. No matter when.”

He was right about that. After all, Vargas expected Seth to do the same. He propped himself against the counter and let the words spill out. “What if you only think you love me because of everything I’ve done for you? What if your gratefulness is coloring your feelings, and you don’t even realize that. Maybe you’ll wake up one day and it’ll be clear that you only thought you loved me because I was there for you when you needed someone.”

In response, he expected either anger or acceptance of a realization neither one of them had wanted to see before then. He didn’t expect the boisterous laugh that followed. He threw Seth a confused look. Seth just laughed harder. Then he took a couple of steps back and leaned against the fridge, the laughter still pouring out of him.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“You.” Seth held his stomach as if the laughter was giving him cramps.

“It’s a legitimate concern.”

Seth shook his head, chuckling. “No, it’s not.”

“Why?”

“Because I had feelings for you before I ever woke up in the hospital and saw you sitting beside my bed.”

Vargas gaped at him. “We’d only talked once.”

“Yeah.” Seth looked away for a breath, then focused on Vargas again. “When I first came to the club for my interview and I met you, I was immediately enamored. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I could barely form words. I made such a fool of myself, I never thought you’d approve my membership. After you walked out of that meeting, I was shattered. I knew I had to see you again, but I had no idea how to make that happen. Then I got the call that I was accepted. Most nights when I came here, at least at first, I didn’t care if I met someone or hooked up. I came to see you. I came hoping for just one glimpse, to hear your voice for one minute, to hear anything about you at all. I think, even then, I was in love with you. Or at least completely obsessed.”

Vargas took a step forward, and Seth held up a hand to stop him.

“I know you might never have noticed me or been interested in me before everything that happened. But I’m not letting that keep me from being with you, from trusting that you’re honest with me about how you feel. Dr. Arteaga said what I’ve been through has changed me and my life, but that doesn’t mean I have to settle for less. I’m going to have an amazing life. I’m going to apply to school, toss out the wheelchair, and live here with you. I’m going to love you forever.”

Vargas swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. He went to Seth and slipped his arms around him. “If I would’ve just opened my damn eyes, I would’ve noticed you. Trust me. That recording of you I watched all those times… It wasn’t just about me feeling guilty. I kept trying to figure out how I missed seeing you.”

Seth wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in Vargas’s chest. “It doesn’t matter. We see each other now.”

“Yeah, we do. How did I get so damn lucky?”

Read the full story at: Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Google Play | Smashwords | Payhip

 

(c) Sloan Parker, 2017. All Rights Reserved.

A Favorite Moment from HOW TO HEAL A LIFE

This quote is from one of my fave scenes in HOW TO HEAL A LIFE

Sloan’s Favorites: Learning to Love Again

Here’s another one of my picks for my “Favorite Scenes” blog series. It’s an excerpt from my second novel BREATHE.

Why I chose this excerpt: This scene includes one of my favorite moments from BREATHE, when Jay shows Lincoln his tattoo of the two wolves running side by side and tells him that he wants a future together, all while they stand in the location where they had their first kiss.

SP_Breathe_coverMd

Lincoln sucked in a long breath with Jay’s words. He watched the other man leave. Jay didn’t falter as he made his way through the bar and out the rear entrance. The door closed behind him, and Lincoln faced the line of whiskey bottles.

Could he really do this?

He wanted to believe he owed it to himself. The truth was, he owed it to both of them.

He stood and followed the same path Jay had, passing by the old guy sipping whiskey at a table near the bathrooms. Lincoln didn’t hesitate. He shoved open Sonny’s back door and exited into the warm night air. The full moon lit the parking lot more than the streetlamps.

Jay waited for him, leaning against the wall near where they’d first kissed, where they’d first touched.

“Come here.” Jay tugged him in close.

Lincoln couldn’t trust himself to hold Jay. He stared at the man’s chest—where the blood had been when he’d lifted Jay into his truck and drove him to the hospital, where he had pressed against the blood-soaked shirt as he raced through the streets, listening to the breaths gurgling out of Jay, feeling the tears stream over his own cheeks. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

He kept staring at Jay’s chest; it moved up and down with each breath. He’d spend forever watching the man breathe if he could.

Jay cupped Lincoln’s chin and forced his head up until their gazes locked. “I’ll be okay if you say yes. I don’t want to live without you.”

“This—us—it can’t work.”

“It has to.” Jay brushed his lips over Lincoln’s ear. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The warmth of Jay’s body against his made it hard to think. Lincoln gripped Jay’s hip in his hand. “Can you promise me every time you look at me she isn’t all you’ll see? That you won’t see everything I took from you?”

Jay kissed along Lincoln’s cheek and chin to the corner of his mouth. “Every time I look at you all I see is you. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, but I don’t even want to think what it’ll be like if we don’t try. She deserves to be remembered, to be talked about. I’d like to share her with you. I know you’re strong enough to learn to love her too. Not to hate yourself because we’re here and she’s not.”

“You give me a lot of credit.”

“You’ve earned it.” Jay wrapped his arms around Lincoln’s neck. The press of Jay’s mouth to his melted Lincoln’s resolve to think instead of feel. He pulled Jay closer. Their tongues met, like old lovers, tentative, slow at first, relearning each other, remembering what was so good about being together.

Lincoln fell into the sweet oblivion of kissing Jay. His world shrank to that parking lot, to the two of them.

Slowly Jay placed one chaste kiss after another on Lincoln’s lips before speaking. “I was thinking…”

“You think too much.” Lincoln leaned in. He wanted more of that kiss. More of Jay.

Jay pressed two fingers to Lincoln’s lips. “You need somewhere to live. And I could use help fixing up my place.”

“You can’t seriously—”

“I want you to live with me. If it’s too weird to live in my house, I want us to get our own place.”

“Jay…my sister needs me.”

“She’ll have you. She’s got the money to buy a new house. To take care of Jessica, the boys. There’ll be more than enough.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I gave her my share of the settlement. I never wanted it. It was my parents and Stuart who started it all.”

Lincoln stared at Jay, then grabbed him by the back of the neck and crushed their mouths together. Jay Miller couldn’t possibly be for real.

How the hell had this man, practically a kid, whom Lincoln had hurt so badly, kept from turning into an angry, jaded person? How had Jay learned to love again?

Following his lead was the least Lincoln could do. He wanted a life with Jay. Wanted to believe they could move beyond the past and really live again.

Wanted to believe forgiveness and love were enough.

Jay held Lincoln’s face in his hands. “Come home with me, Linc.”

Lincoln rested his forehead against Jay’s temple. “You’re sure?”

“I am.” Jay lifted the sleeve of Lincoln’s T-shirt and traced his fingers over the destroyed tattoo. “The eagle’s a symbol of courage and wisdom. Some believe if you can embrace both, you can fly above all of the shit in your life.”

“All of it?”

Jay nodded and rolled up his own shirtsleeve. The outline of an eagle feather crossed his upper arm; two wolves filled the interior of the feather, running side by side.

Lincoln ran the tips of his fingers over one wolf, then the other. “Why?”

“I wanted you to know…to see…we can both live beyond our pasts. Together.”

(c) Sloan Parker, 2010. All Rights Reserved.

The full story is available at: Amazon US | iBooks | B&N | All Romance eBooks | Kobo | Google Play

Sloan’s Favorites: A meaningful moment in MORE

Here’s another selection in my “Favorite Scenes” series. It’s from MORE (More Book 1).

Why I chose this excerpt: Selecting an excerpt from this book was actually much harder than I thought it would be. There were several I wanted to share. I decided on the following moment because I love that Luke is finally asking the question he wondered the very first night he met Richard: how did Richard get the scar on his chest. It takes Luke a long time, but he’s also finally able to open up and say he wants to live with them.

More (More Book 1)

This excerpt is NSFW.

Richard jerked back. “I want you both to move in with me, permanently.”

It took a moment for my swimming head to shake off the desire. “Stay?”

“Stay. Indefinitely. Stop pretending you’ll be looking for an apartment at some point. Move all your stuff here. No talk of this place as mine anymore. It’ll be ours.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I know this is a huge thing for you.”

I stared at my hands. No tensing. No freaking. No desire to run. “Okay.”

“What?”

I looked up at him. Hopeful green eyes gazed back at me.

“It may not seem like it, but I’m trying. I want to stay here. I want to make this work.” I want to believe nothing will make me leave. Not me. Not my father.

Richard flung himself at me. The force sent me sailing over the side of the chair. I landed on my back with him on top of me.

“Oh God. Luke, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Ow. I think so.” I laughed and rubbed the back of my head.

His fingers explored my scalp.

I brushed his hands away. “I’m fine.”

He smiled at me, and his lips covered mine again. He rolled us around on the floor, tickling my sides. I laughed more, letting the ease and comfort wash over me.

I attempted a dodge of his movements. My hips and ass wiggled, but his solid body pinned me in place. He unbuttoned the top of my pants and slid a hand in. I was still laughing as he grasped my dick.

He didn’t relent with his hand or his mouth. I thrashed my hips into his touch. He knew how to work me with his big fist. I could smell my own need.

My hands grazed his bulge as I went for his pants, and he groaned. I lowered the zipper, pushed down his underwear, and released the red, swollen prick. As it always did, his cock firmed more with my touch. I considered taking him in my mouth, but his next words stopped me in my tracks.

“God, Luke. I need to fuck you.”

I stilled. “Maybe we should leave the clothes on.”

Richard threw his head back and laughed. “I’d hope I can have at least some control.” I stroked his cock. His eyes rolled back and he pumped his hips. “Uh…okay. Let’s leave the clothes on, but let me at your dick.”

He undid my pants and lay on top of me. We rocked in swift jabs, sliding our dicks together, and came fast. We lay on the kitchen floor, breathless, our shirts lifted, our stomachs slick with our spunk, and our spent cocks lying free.

Some goddamn humping, and it was one of the best fucks of my life.

Richard reached for a kitchen towel and wiped us clean before he fell back onto the floor beside me. “Shit, never thought you’d say yes.”

“Me neither. When you first asked us to stay, I thought I’d be moving to Walter’s after two days.”

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on a bent arm. “That was my fear. It only grew the more I got to know you. At first I didn’t want to see you leave before you gave us a try. Then I didn’t want to see you go because I didn’t think I could take you walking out on us.”

I pushed him over and straddled his hips. I drove my lips, my body, my hands against him, letting him feel me, showing him I had no intention of leaving.

I swept my hands under his shirt. I’d never get over the addiction of his skin. My fingers brushed over the scarred flesh. “How’d you get this?”

A laugh rushed out of him. It was almost Matthew’s giggle. It took a moment before he could form words. “Matthew asked me that the first week you were here.”

“I never said I was one for heart-to-hearts.”

He lifted a hand to my face. “I never asked you to be.” His fingers stroked my cheek. He dropped his hand and snaked it under his shirt to the edge of the scar by his nipple. “Some homophobic asswipes attacked me at a college party. One of them had a knife.”

“Oh God.” I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my fingers through the blond chest hair, over the firm pectoral muscles. His flesh jumped. Small bumps rose up. The color of his tan skin darkened. My fingertips examined the raised line of flesh.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Luke.”

I traced the scar to his underarm and back.

“I’ve never liked anyone touching me there but you.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. “It was bad?”

“I was in the hospital for a week. I lost a lot of blood, and there was an infection. It was full of dirt and glass from the beer bottles. They dragged me pretty far.”

“What happened?”

“I’ve never hidden who I prefer to sleep with. My junior year I lived in a frat house on campus. Some of the brothers didn’t like knowing a gay guy slept in the same house they did. They wanted me out, and beating the shit out of me was their best plan. I lost the fight.”

“That’s hard to imagine.”

“It was me against five. I knew I’d never win. Not when I saw the knife. But I couldn’t back away. I couldn’t let them push me around.” He laid a hand over mine. “No one bothered me again. The rest of the fraternity respected me for fighting—for staying when it would have been easier to leave.” He moved our combined hands along the scar until my palm lay over his heart. “They sent me to a plastic surgeon, but I didn’t want it fixed. I wanted the scar.”

“Why?”

“To remind me no matter where I go in life, someone could always have an issue with me. For whatever reason. Because I’m well-off. Because I’m opinionated. Because I’m gay. I can’t let people get in my way or I’ll never succeed. I’ll never get what I want.”

“What do you want, Richard?”

“Right now? I want you to move in with me.”

(c) Sloan Parker, 2010. All Rights Reserved.

The full story is available at: Amazon US | iBooks | B&N | All Romance eBooks | Kobo | Google Play

Sloan’s Favorites: My Fave M/M “Dad, meet my boyfriend” Scene

Here’s another selection in my “Favorite Scenes” series. It’s from MORE THAN JUST A GOOD BOOK.

Why I chose this excerpt: The relationship between Scott and his father was a special part of this story for me. I wanted to show that the most important man in Scott’s life had always been his dad. Until he met Mark. His dad and Mark could’ve ended up fighting over Scott’s attention, but that wasn’t the kind of man I wanted his father to be. When I was writing the scene below, I knew that a dad who so deeply loved and cared for his son could’ve attacked Mark as soon as he saw those bruises, before listening to Scott. But Scott’s dad was the kind of man who typically listened first, then reacted. I love how this scene showcases that. Of course his dad wants to immediately take Scott out of the situation, but he also stops to find out the truth, find out what his son wants and how he feels about it.

Please note: Amazon currently has this title listed as part of the MORE series. It is not. We’re working with Amazon to get that information corrected. 

SP_MoreThanJustAGoodBook_coverMd

“Your roommates said you’d moved out. Owen at the coffee shop told me where to find this place.” He threw a heated look Mark’s way. “I’m guessing it was your idea that my son lie to me?”

“No,” Scott said. “Dad, I—”

“Not telling me you’re living with someone is lying. The kind of man who encourages you to lie to me is not good enough for you.”

It wasn’t hard to miss the clench of Mark’s jaw. He didn’t react, though. His voice was neutral when he said, “I should go put on some clothes.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Scott’s dad turned his back on Mark.

Mark gave Scott a look, part apology, part worry, part support, then headed for his bedroom.

After the bedroom door shut, his dad opened his mouth as if to say something else but gasped instead. He gripped Scott by the elbows and held his arms up, examining one wrist, then the other. The slight bruising was almost gone, but it was still obvious enough, even in the low light of the candles. And with the way the marks had faded, they looked like fingerprints wrapped around Scott’s arms.

“Did he do this to you?”

“It’s not—”

“Go get your things, Scott. You’re not staying here.”

A flash of lightning lit up the room, immediately followed by a crack of thunder that tore through the small apartment.

Scott stood frozen in place. He’d never heard his dad sound so pissed off.

“Dad, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” He reached for Scott’s arm again. “He’s hurting you.”

“No!” Scott kept his gaze locked on the floor. He so didn’t want to explain this. “Please don’t ask.” That was when the lights decided to turn back on. Perfect timing. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott could see his dad intensely watching him.

“Is he hurting you?”

Scott shook his head.

“Is someone else?”

“No.” He crossed the room and dropped onto the couch. His still-heated ass stung with the action. He held back the wince.

His dad came to sit next to him. “What happened?” He examined Scott’s wrists again, more closely this time. “This is from being tied up.”

“Please. Can we just drop it? You’re my dad.”

“That’s why I have to know.”

“But it’s embarrassing talking about this with you.”

“I’m sorry about that, but we are not going to drop it. Mark did this to you?”

Oh God. What was he supposed to say?

“He ties you up?”

Scott nodded.

His dad didn’t say anything more right away. Hopefully he’d decided to let the completely embarrassing conversation go.

Or not.

More softly he asked, “It’s something you want him to do?”

Yet again, Scott couldn’t find the words.

“I have to know, Scott. Is this from him doing something you wanted?”

“Yes.”

“It’s something you enjoy?”

There was no getting out of admitting the truth. He swallowed, then spoke again in a rush. “Yes.”

“Does he hit you?”

He could still feel the warm sting of Mark’s hand on him. He searched for the right words. “He doesn’t hurt me.” He dropped his head and buried his face in his hands. His next words were muffled. “Can we not talk about this?”

There was a long pause, and then his dad said, “It’s okay.” He ran a comforting hand over Scott’s back, then sank back farther on the couch. “In fact, your mother liked that sort of thing.”

“Dad!” Scott lifted his head but still couldn’t face him.

“Oh, I forgot. Parents don’t have sex.” He could tell his dad was smiling now. “She was a wonderful person. Having a lot in common with her is not a bad thing.”

“I know.” He always loved when his dad compared him to her. He wouldn’t let what they were talking about change that reaction.

“I should’ve guessed when I saw those marks. She bruised easily like you. It’s just… I worry about you.”

“Mark is a really good guy. He cares about me.”

“I can see that.”

Scott looked at his dad for the first time since moving to the couch. He was staring off toward the end of the hallway.

Mark stood there, now fully dressed, concern evident in the confused expression on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Scott tried to keep his voice even, despite the awkwardness of the moment. “Everything’s fine.”

Mark nodded. “Okay. I’ll let you two talk.” He hesitated like it was taking all his effort to walk away. He gave Scott another nod and headed back down the hall for his room.

After the door closed, his dad said, “I trust you. I trust your judgment. But I need you to promise me one thing. That you’ll never let him or anyone else do something you don’t want. No matter what you feel for him. And if it becomes too much, if it’s changing into something you don’t want and you don’t know how to walk away, you’ll come talk to me.”

“I promise. Can we not talk about this anymore?”

(c) Sloan Parker, 2013. All Rights Reserved.

The full story is available at: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon DE | iBooks | B&N | All Romance eBooks | Kobo | Google Play