Saturday Backlist Love: Swept Away / MM Contemp

Diana DeRicci
Cover Art: Annie Melton
Genre: Erotic Romance/Gay Romance, M/M
Length: novella
ISBN: 978-1-936751-60-0
Heat Level: 4
Warnings: This book contains sexual content that may be offensive to some readers: gay sex (male/male), anal sex

A broken engagement, a kiss with a stranger, and now he might be…gay?

Luke Fletcher’s engagement with Sandy has gone bad, and it was all his fault. He’d kissed a guy. And he’d liked it. Luke thinks he can move on and write it off as the drunken, bachelor-party prank it was meant to be, until a virtual clone of Kissy-Face Guy shows up on his doorstep.

Seth Rusko has been a friend of Sandy’s brother for ages, so when he’s asked to drop off a box of Sandy’s ex’s stuff, he figures the least he can do is help the girl out. But he hadn’t planned on Sandy’s ex being so tongue-tyingly, breath-catchingly hot. Of course, being hot is irrelevant—the guy is clearly straight.

At least, he seems straight… until he tells Seth just what he did to cause the breakup… and until Seth remembers the last time he lost his heart to a straight guy who didn’t know what he wanted…

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An excerpt from the book

Moonlight flared across the low tide waves, a long sword of gossamer silver on an inky black canvas. Luke stood on his rear deck, able to hear the quiet shush of the rolling waves echoed by the sucking of the tide as they returned to the Gulf. With his hands braced around the railing, he tilted his chin upward, his eyes closed, breathing in the calm of the summer breeze, the scent of the sea and sand. These moments soothed him like very little could anymore.

His phone rang inside the house behind him, but he ignored the jarring interruption. He was sure it was only his mother. He was proven right when the answering machine picked up.

“Luke, it’s your mom.” She sounded agitated. Her normal state. “Please call home. Sandy misses you. We miss you.”

He snorted. Sandy would be the last person to miss him. Obviously his mother was still clinging to the delusion that they were getting married.

“Not happening, Ma,” he groused coldly, gazing out to the beckoning sea. And for the record, he was home. Luke wasn’t going back. Not to have his heart eviscerated by his ex-fiancée all over again. He ignored the rest of his mother’s pleading, or whatever it was she was saying. By the time she’d hung up, he’d lost himself in the swaying constant of the ocean.

* * *

Seth Rusko slid from his car to stand at the edge of the sidewalk, checked the address on the note in his hand against the numbers on the house and mailbox, then shrugged. Taylor wouldn’t send him to the wrong house. He hefted the box from the back seat, then bumped the rear door with a hip. It was midafternoon on a Saturday. The guy might be home. If he wasn’t, Seth would leave the box on the porch by the door. The stuff inside would likely explain who’d sent it.

Bracing his delivery between a hip and the wall, Seth rang the doorbell and waited.

“Whoa,” Seth breathed when the door was yanked open abruptly. Startled to be greeted by a half-naked guy, he shook himself mentally. “Hi. Are you Luke Fletcher?” Damn. Sandra had good taste. If he was going to open the door naked, Seth wasn’t above looking.

“On most days.”

Seth cleared his throat. It was difficult to not ogle the man’s damp chest. Considering he probably stood a good three inches taller than Seth, he was at eye-level standing on the last step. Sculpted pectorals were lightly dusted with short brown hair. Luke was tight, on his way to a six-pack. Sandy had mentioned at some point that her ex-fiancée liked to work out. It showed, and the view made Seth’s mouth water. Short swim trunks molded to his body. The scent of the ocean clung to him and his dark brown hair looked disheveled, like he’d toweled it dry.

“Can I help you?”

It wasn’t exactly a bark, but it was a definite prod.

“Oh! Right. I’m a friend of Sandy’s—”

Luke’s eyes narrowed a fraction, his expression shutting down, becoming considerably less welcoming.

Seth swallowed. Maybe not mentioning that would have been better. He went with a different tack, their mutual friend. “Taylor asked me to deliver this to you. I think it’s stuff from Sandy’s place. I don’t know,” Seth finished, his voice wavering with uncertainty. The longer he stared, the harder it was becoming to speak at all…

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