Hockey season may be officially over but that doesn`t mean that hockey romances are! I am thrilled to present the super amazing cover for Long Change, the second of my three gay hockey romances contracted with Ellora's Cave.
You can preorder Boone and Preston`s story now at the Ellora`s Cave site-
Long Change by V.L. Locey
Don`t that just sharpen your skates?! How about the blurb followed by an excerpt? Be warned! The following excerpt is a heavy R rated snippet and contains gay sexual situations and mature language. If that offends now would be the time to leave.
Collegiate superstar goalie Boone Crockett seems to have the world at his feet. He’s rich, handsome, attends an elite college and is a hot prospect for the pros. Pity all that is a front for a deeply closeted and troubled young man.
All Boone’s life plans are shattered when flamboyant ex-figure skater Preston Gordon, an orange-haired twink, shows up to audition for the team’s mascot position wearing sequins, scarves and toe picks. His moves on the ice send Boone into his own pirouette of frustrated and reluctant desire.
As senior year progresses Boone slides deeper and deeper into a dangerous depression, Preston’s sensual strength the only thing he has to hold on to. If Boone can’t keep from plunging through the thin ice he’s skating on, it could take a twink to make the big save.
Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
R Rated Excerpt:(Explicit Language, Gay Sexual Situations):
“I’m not stripping down in the corridor!” Preston announced, then swayed off. I stood there, dog head in hand, gaping at his elegantly tiffy departure. Fuck. Me. I stalked along in his wake, slamming the slowly closing door to the men’s room open. I whipped our mascot’s head into a corner. It bounced off a tall silver trashcan then rolled into a stall. Preston skewered me with a filthy look. “I know you’re hovering on the edge of a breakdown because you’re afraid of coming out, but—”
“What the fuck?” I snarled, then spun around to force the door shut. When I rounded on the thin twink, he had dropped down to pick up the dog head. He didn’t bend over like a dude. No. He dropped down into a prim crouch like a chick in a skirt who didn’t want to flash her panties. “You keep that to yourself!”
“No one is here.” He frowned as he rubbed at a wet spot between the mascot’s ears. “I wouldn’t have said it if someone were. I’m not as ignorant as some people,” he tacked on, then straightened up. “Give me a minute to change into my undergarments, and then you can zip me up.”
He placed the furry brown head on the top of the trash then entered a stall. I stared at the closed door for at least a full minute, my hands clenched into fists, my heart rate spiked. Fuck, but he pushed my buttons. What if someone had overheard that snippy comment?
“You promised you’d be cool. Discreet.”
“Yes, I did.” I heard him sigh. It was an exhalation heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. I lashed out and used the one thing I knew would hurt the worst.”
My eyes were burning slightly from the thick smell of urinal blocks. “Don’t do it again.”
The door to the stall opened. Preston stepped around it in a pair of bright-orange compression leggings over black socks. All that anger? It drained away to be replaced with lust. He was thin but cut, his abdomen showing a nice rippled look that was enhanced by the lack of hair anywhere. He could easily wear youth size. His thighs were toned, well-muscled. All skaters have muscular legs, but his weren’t nearly as thick as a hockey player’s.
“I promise I will never use that against you again,” he vowed. My gaze lingered on the on the bulge of his crotch then swept upward. He looked sincere. He was beautiful, with those pink lips and dewy emerald eyes. I think Preston felt the undercurrent changing as well. He stepped back, his gaze sweeping over me. “Those damn bulky pads,” he whispered, then one side of his mouth, that lush cotton-candy colored mouth, tweaked upward. “They hide that tasty body of yours.”
I was inside that stall before he could rescind the invitation his eyes, lips and body were sending. I jacked him against the partition. The door creaked slowly shut. He gasped in shock at the cold metal meeting his bare back. Or maybe it was the aggressive way I was manhandling him. His hands dove into my hair. Preston pulled my mouth over his. I clapped my sweaty hands to his cheeks, enjoying the baby-smooth flesh under my fingertips. There was really no way for me to feel anything else, not geared up as I was. But that was good. It was okay. If I’d been able to rub my cock against his, I would have burst right inside my cup. As it was I could barely handle the soft touch of his tongue against the seam of my lips.
He wanted more. So did I. I wanted to fuck him right there and then. He led and I followed. Like some entranced rat being led along by a twinkly flautist, I fell under his spell. His rounded nails bit into my scalp. I felt his sides, rubbed his ribs, squeezed his hips. His mouth opened, tongue darting out to dare mine to play. Our panting breaths sounded twice as loud in the acoustically tiled bathroom. I leaned my pelvis in to him. He liked that. It got me a nip on the bottom lip that made my balls contract.
Something hit the other side of the wall. What it was I’ll never be sure. One of the Allegheny State players? Fate? A warning shot from God? Who knows. It was a loud enough thump that my mind, drenched in desire as it was, recognized what a phenomenally asinine thing I was participating in. I stumbled away from Preston.