Sunday, November 15, 2015

Snippet Sunday

Welcome to another Snippet Sunday!

This week we have an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo novel/novella, Home Ice, a GFY M/M erotic hockey romance. Wow, that's quite the lengthy genre title!

In today's sultry snippet we have an intimate moment between our two leading men, Jarrod Troy, the star center for the Pittsburgh Steelheads, and Nash Sullivan, the far-too-handsome nanny who takes care of Jarrod's small daughter, Kenley. Jarrod's daughter has just shown an interest in potty training but her father didn't think he would be able to  find any girl's panties with Spider-Man on them as requested. So, he and Nash are using fabric paint to decorate plain white panties with spiders.

There is some language because hockey player. There are also some gay situations. If man-on-man love offends now is the time to hike up your petticoats and head to another blog.

Please forgive any errors, this is an unedited excerpt. Enjoy your snippet!


           "Thanks."I began dabbing at the black glob on my pants. "So what do you need to say?" I inquired while Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Relax spun behind us.
            "I've given this thing between us some long thought. I think that you're truly having some sort of awakening about yourself and your sexual identity. Why it's me that has stirred these cravings in you I can't say."
            "Because you're nice, funny, have pretty eyelashes and know to dab and not rub," I told him and glanced up from the mess I was making out of my pants. Nash seemed to be intent on creating a spider web on the back of a pair of panties. His face scrunched up at the warm words. I smiled then returned to smearing the paint into my pants.
            "I wasn't fishing for compliments but thank you."
            "Just the truth," I said then tossed the wet cloth to the table and went back to work. I wanted to have the panties made before Kenley woke up. My stomach rumbled but I didn't ask where lunch was. Nash seemed to be preoccupied. I'd just eat bread pudding and enjoy the carb rush.
            "Right, so here's where I am," the man exhaled then sat back. His chair squeaked softly. Information Society was asking What's On Your Mind. Had be burned this CD just for this conversation? "I like you, I really do. You're sexy, quirky, honest, and loyal which are all attributes that I find appealing in a man." I felt my cheeks grow warm but didn't say anything in reply. I merely tried to make a glob of black paint into a spider. "You also have some gender role issues that you need to work on, but I think with the proper guidance you'll come around and step out of nineteen forty-six."
            "Me and Captain America," I said as made a long spider leg.
            "If you had Chris Evans' abs we wouldn't be sitting here talking."
            I glanced over at him. He was looking right at me, his hazel eyes sparkling. I felt some of the worry about what he was going to say ease away.
            "I have the best abs in the NHL. Want to see?"
            "Later."A fiery coal of lust ignited deep in my lower stomach. He wanted to see my abs. That was hot. "Jarrod, if you are serious about this we need to go very, very slowly. I'm not going to lose my job and be blacklisted because we were caught in a gay love scandal. Also, that would not be good for your reputation."
            "Fuck the press. If that old winger in Florida can sleep with eighteen year olds and get praised for it, who's to say I can't sleep with my hot nanny?"
            "I have no idea who you are talking about but I suspect the old winger in Florida was sleeping with an eighteen year old female. Your team and fans might not take to you sleeping with a man as sign of your prowess," he pointed out.
            "Fuck them too. This is my life, my house, and my bed. I'll take a damned llama to my bed if I want. I think I have one too many legs," I said as I studied my Ogo.
            "She can only count to five so you're good," Nash said so I pushed that pair aside and began creating more panty art. Flock of Seagulls began to play. I actually rather liked this song but kept that to myself. "I think we should see how this attraction plays out day-by-day and not rush into anything. There are so many things that can go wrong."
            "I can do day-by-day," I confessed. Actually, that sounded like a good plan. While my body objected, the suggestion eased my mind. "So what happens if a nanny in your agency falls in love with the person they're working for? It has had to have happened in the past."
            "Not in a gay situation as far as I know."
            "Probably not," I had to concur. "Did you put a pink bow on your spider?"
            "Sure." He held up his panty artwork. Mine looked like a rhesus monkey had made it compared to his. His blue-green eyes darted to my completed panty. "That looks good."
            "It looks like a drunken pelican painted it. Is there one damn thing that you're not good at?" I frowned then made a lunge for the tube of pink paint.
            "Finding a man who isn't a walking pile of conflict, drama and angst wrapped up in a sexy, eccentric package," Nash muttered in reply. That sounded like a slam hidden inside a compliment so I let it go. "So we proceed with great caution, is that agreed on?"
            "Agreed," I said then tugged the tiny cap off the pink tube of fabric paint. Nash made a sound of exasperation when the paint ran over my fingers and dribbled onto my pants.
            "It's like painting with Kenley only you're sloppier." He gently chastised then picked up the damp cloth and placed it to my upper thigh. I inhaled sharply. Our eyes met. His hand began to move in a slow circular motion. I wet my lips.
            "You said not to rub," I gruffly mentioned, my cock lengthening quickly. Freaking Human League's Don't You Want Me flared to life on the CD player. I was now convinced this was all choreographed somehow.
            "Yeah, I know." His voice was thick, hot, and sensual, kind of like the hand sliding around on my leg. If he touched my dick, I would make a fool of myself. My breathing kicked up a notch."I'm tempted to tell you to take your pants off so I can wash them out but I really don't think that would be wise."
            "I think it might be really wise," I panted, my paint-covered fingers forgotten. 

Zip on over to Cathy Brockman's blog for a Sunday Snippet from her NaNoWriMo novel--


Cathy Brockman said...

That is so good I cant wait to read this

V.L. Locey said...

Thanks, Cat. It's getting pretty spicy!