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In the Penalty Box [A Seattle Marauders Story]
by Riley Shane

Category: Gay Fiction/Erotica
Description: LGBT Contemporary

Series: Seattle Marauders; Related Title: Two-Man Advantage

For four years, writer Landon Quinn has struggled to forget the one night he spent with Seattle Marauders defenseman Gregory Samson. Then Landon's life takes an unexpected turn, and he finds himself back in Seattle and face-to-face with the man who broke his heart.

Samson doesn't know what he did to run Landon off all those years ago, but he's sure Landon's leaving was for the best. The bright, beautiful young man Landon had once been was far too adoring, far too open, for the closeted hockey player's peace of mind. The intervening years have only made Landon an even sexier temptation -- and Landon's return presents Samson with a whole new set of problems.

Attraction sizzles between them, but having been burned once by Samson has left Landon twice shy. Even as Samson convinces Landon to let him out of the penalty box and into his life, Samson has to face the fact that his closely guarded secrets may come to light. Caught between the ghosts of his past and the promise of a future with Landon, the hockey star must decide if now that he's come off the bench, he's ready to come out of the closet.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: male/male sexual practices.


eBook Publisher: Loose Id, LLC, 2012
eBookwise Release Date: March 2012

eBookeBook

4 Reader Ratings:
Great Good OK Poor
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [181 KB]
Words: 39251
Reading time: 112-157 min.


Chapter One

Checking from Behind

Four years earlier

The hand that snaked across his leg to cup his jeans-covered cock almost made him swerve onto the sidewalk. Landon Quinn's heart leaped in time with his dick as he righted the steering wheel, keeping the car on course.

"Jesus, Gregory. Shouldn't you be resting?" He tried to sound disapproving, but he knew he spoiled it by grinning, giddy as he was with a mixture of happiness and lust. Finally. After three years of his staring, dreaming, hell, practically salivating in plain sight over the Seattle Marauders' hottest defenseman, Gregory Samson had finally noticed him. Really noticed him, not the casual chatting, "be nice to Assistant Coach Bryce's sort-of family" kind of way that he normally did.

Maybe doing a header onto the ice had knocked some sense into him.

It was summer, but a bunch of the Marauders had rented ice time to practice together. It had been late in the afternoon. Summer session classes had ended for the day, so he had dropped in and played ref for the guys. He'd watched them square off, four on four, and since he had a job to do, he'd actually succeeded in taking his eyes off Gregory for the first time in he didn't know how long. Then it came.

Crack!

Kyle had checked Gregory, but things went south. As Landon watched, Gregory fell, his head hitting the ice and almost bouncing on impact. Gregory's helmet toppled off on the rebound; then his head cracked against the ice again. Everything stopped for a moment before the guys spurred themselves into action and administered some basic first aid. Gregory hadn't lost consciousness, his vision was clear, and he'd insisted he was fine aside from a headache. Still, in the absence of any trainers to check him out, Gregory had been outvoted by everyone there. After he'd changed into some street clothes, one of the other guys had taken his gear and Gregory'd let Landon drive him to the ER. There hadn't been any signs of a concussion or internal bleeding, so the doc had cleared Gregory, giving him orders to take a shit ton of Tylenol and take a break from the ice--just to be on the safe side--until his regular doctor checked him over.

A stroke up his crotch broke Landon's thoughts. His breath hitched, and he pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal as he raced toward the western end of Bellevue. He tried to hear the GPS over the pounding of his blood, but it was getting to be more difficult. With regret, Landon shifted a bit, praying Gregory would take the hint before the two of them wound up wrapped around a telephone pole. Despite the morbid imagery, he grinned, his mind going instantly to the "telephone pole" he'd felt against his back when he'd been fumbling for his keys to unlock the car. He'd dropped the keys in shock at the time. Never had he dreamed a knock on the head would lead to this. Gregory wanted him. His actions were so uncharacteristic that Landon had been afraid once they'd gotten in the car, Gregory would change his mind. The man wasn't "out and proud," to say the least.

The very least. In fact, Landon had never heard a peep about Gregory's sexuality. And he had looked and listened since the moment he'd first seen Gregory on the ice. Landon had just started his freshman year at the University of Washington back then. He'd seen Gregory on TV before, but the cameras didn't do him justice. Landon had gotten hard as a rock just watching Gregory during practice.

Thank God his half sister's stepdad was the Marauders' coach, or he'd never have had a damn clue that he could have a shot with the walking wet dream of a D-man. He'd kept his attraction under wraps, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the guys and not wanting to risk making a move before he was sure he could get Gregory. But the past three years of stealing any time he could to be around the defenseman had paid off. He'd had his answers in the form of the fake interest Gregory had shown toward the puck bunnies. The man put on a good front, that was for sure. But watching Gregory as Landon had... He'd found what he had been looking for: a lack of enthusiasm when studying a hot woman and, more importantly, the incredibly rare times that he'd caught Gregory subtly checking out a hot male ass. What really sealed the deal, though, were the "blink and you'll miss them" yearning glances Gregory directed at the Marauders' openly gay left wing, Kyle Harper.

Landon frowned. Kyle had followed them to the hospital, apologizing profusely and giving the other guys updates as to Gregory's status. At least he had been until the doc had told them there was no reason to be overly concerned. Then Kyle's attention had turned to the nurses' station, and he'd begun flirting with some nurse Landon himself would have definitely taken a second look at if Gregory hadn't been there. Except Gregory had been there, looking at Landon...and Kyle. When Landon volunteered to take Gregory home, Kyle had checked with the D-Man and, with a nod, had then wandered off to take a seat while the nurse handled the discharge paperwork. No doubt as soon as that nurse was on break, his scrubs would be around his ankles in a stockroom somewhere. Landon wasn't exactly sorry to see him go, considering Kyle's absence was his gain.

Landon stayed with Gregory, touching him whenever he could find any excuse to do so. At first he was worried the other man would pull away, but though he didn't return the gestures, Gregory hadn't brushed Landon off. There'd been desire in his eyes--Landon swore it had to be directed at him. And when they had gotten back to Landon's car...that was when Landon's dreams had come true.

They had, right? His dreams were coming true, weren't they? Gregory wanted him, didn't he? The guy had taken a knock to the head and he was still feeling up Landon in the car, so that had to mean something. Samson had definitely been turned on before, even though his head had to be pounding as much as Landon's cock was right now. And he'd been looking at Landon. He had. This had nothing to do with Kyle or the damn nurse.

Biting his lip, Landon stole a sidelong glance at his companion, who was now tapping his hands on his thick, muscular thighs. His head was laid back against the headrest, his expression unreadable in the darkened car. Landon shook his head, dismissing the doubts that threatened to send malevolent butterflies racing around his stomach. Tonight was the night. It was. It had to be.

He jumped, breaking out of his thoughts as the GPS voice signaled they'd reached their destination. Excitement began to race through him once more as he pulled into Gregory's driveway. As soon as he put the car into park, Gregory unfastened his own seat belt. He leaned over and skimmed his teeth up the side of Landon's neck, teasing as he made his way over to nip his ear. Landon jerked as Gregory's hand reached across to cup him again. They were in the driveway. No one could see them, but still. Cars weren't the most comfortable places to play.

"Greg--" His protest was cut off when he felt the buttons on the fly of his jeans come undone. One large, strong hand reached inside, past his briefs. Cars are a great place to play. What was I thinking? He leaned back as best he could and turned his face for a kiss, but the other man was too intent on the nape of his neck. The hand that jerked him was dry, a bit rough. Landon winced for an instant, then looked down and forgot everything else. Gregory's hand was encircling his shaft. How many times had he jerked off to that fantasy alone? Precum dribbled from the tip, and his eyelids closed of their own volition as Gregory's thumb swiped across the head of his dick, smearing the liquid.

Then Gregory's hand began to move in that perfect rhythm that had everything in Landon focused on the sensation of the here and now. Gregory was pumping him fast and hard--no rest, no relief, just stroke after stroke after stroke. Landon jerked as Gregory's other hand squeezed his sac. He felt himself draw up and tried to calm himself, to make it last, but with Gregory teasing him, there was no way he could hold out. With a shout, he came, calling out Gregory's name as his cum dampened his clothes.

By the time he opened his eyes, Gregory was already out of the car. Dazed, Landon stared for a moment, watching as the other man fumbled with the key in the house door before opening it. The postorgasmic, relaxed feeling vanished. Gregory wanted him to follow, right? He wouldn't have just...done what he did otherwise.

The open front door was his answer, and Landon grinned, rolling his eyes at himself for all the second-guessing he was doing tonight. Pull it together, Quinn. Do you really want to look back on your first time with Gregory and remember how much time you wasted sitting in the car with your dick hanging out?

Stuffing himself back inside his jeans, Landon pulled them up and swiftly rebuttoned his fly before he bounded from the car and into the house, locking the front door behind him. For a moment he stopped and stared at the interior. Gregory's place looked comfortable enough, but the elegant creams and neutrals and perfect house junk artfully arranged made it clear that Gregory definitely hadn't decorated the place himself, nor did he spend much time in this showpiece part of the house.


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