My Only Reason (Love is Love #1) by Leigh Lennon
It’s a cliche’ really, falling in love with my best friend, my very straight best friend. And to add more complications, I’m a football player, about to be drafted. We’re manly men. We aren’t supposed to be gay. But I am and I love the one person I’ll never have. Until fate forces us together six years later. It’ll be both a fantasy and hell on earth, playing along Crush—the only man who will ever truly own my heart.
He dropped a bomb on me. Then he left, never looking back. Our friendship—ruined until he lands back in my life. His presence is just as big as ever. I never forgot him, or what that one kiss so many years ago still does to my body. He’s here, but is he willing to stay.
Release Date: October 15, 2020
Excerpt My Only Reason by Leigh Lennon
I push to my feet, broaden my stance, and stand as tall over him as I can get. “Yeah, imagine my shock when a man I considered a brother up and left. Never returning my calls, he ignored me anytime we played one another. Now, he all of a sudden has a hard-on for playing on my team! Not to mention—of all the fucking teams in the country who had wanted to sign him. In my book this makes him an asshole, asshole.”
He gives me a shrug of his shoulders, peeling off his simple white T-shirt and pulling at the beer in my hand. “Fuck, it’s hotter than a witch’s tit out here.” He pauses, and it gives me just enough time to shift my gaze, hidden behind my aviators, up and down his body. “So, since you barged into my house and made yourself at home with a fuck ton of assumptions, want to share some of your beer with me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he grabs my beer. He takes a swig, the cocky SOB, and then hands it back to me. I point at the small fridge in the corner of the outdoor kitchen.
He saunters toward it, grabbing one for him and a second for me. He’s back in my space, and the son of a bitch has grown since we last played together. He’s always been a little smaller than me, most wide receivers are, especially with the new type of quarterbacks, who are more mobile and larger, too, like I am.
But every part of him has become a solid mass of muscles, and hell, more manly than I remember, and—he’s never been a small man.
I pull for my beer and sit down in the sun as he scoots across from me at the part of the table in the shade. “Fuck, I may need to get my swim trunks on and go for a dip,” he begins like we’re casually shooting the shit.
“Yeah, I won’t be here long. I’ll leave you to get settled, but what fuck ton of assumptions are you talking about? You left me without so much as an explanation after you attacked my lips. You dodged my calls. You avoided me. You did this—not me, asshole.”
He reaches over to cup my chin with his spare hand, but just as he’s about to make contact with my five o’clock shadow, he pulls his hand away.
“Christopher, I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but I only have so much restraint.”
I’m silenced by my ring tone, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” and know it’s Alison on the other end. “Fuck,” I murmur under my breath. “Ry, give me a second. If I don’t answer this, she’ll show up on my doorstep.” I take the phone and immediately head to the backyard in order to tell Alison to go get fucked in private. “Al, hold on, give me a second.”
Her voice is screaming in the background when I mute it. “Ry, did you hear me? Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”
He’s internally warring against himself. His eyes rake over me. Taking his hands from where he fisted my shirt, he cups my chin, bringing our faces together.
My best friend’s hands encompass my cheeks as he pushes me forcefully and rough against the wall. His crystal blue eyes are on fire but not from anger. I’ve seen Christopher Colton full of rage, and it’s not what I’m looking at.
“Walk away, pretty boy, if you don’t want this going any further,” he orders, and I stay planted in place.
With our noses touching for what feels like an hour, I take in his strong evergreen scent, as though he showered in Christmas trees.
“Do you want to know why I was pissed off when you came back?” With Crush’s question, his breath is shaky, and his hand is still on the scruff of my face. “You strolled back into my life, and you have me wanting more than just your friendship. I can’t think straight at the thought of you with someone else. And I can’t not touch your thick black hair or stop myself from running my fingers through it. Or burn to memory the aroma of your scent in my mind. I need to feel the stubble of your five o’clock shadow against my calloused hands. I’ve never been satisfied with a girl. And I’ve known this for longer than I care to admit. I realize what I’ve been missing. You.” He pulls away, just enough to look in my eyes.
With this understanding, with his revelation, I pull his lips to mine. We open at the same time, our tongues dueling for control. His hand begins moving through my hair while one of my hands is on his tight ass, but my other one is palming his dick.
I can’t pull away because I’ll never get enough of this stunning man in front of me. When I’ve been denied the most crucial element in my life, I can’t ever let go. He pushes me farther against the wall, and when his arm moves down my body, his fingers unbuckle my shorts, and I anxiously await for them to reach past the elastic band of my boxers to play with the tip of my cock. I moan into his mouth, and he answers me with his groan. When he removes his touch from my body, his grin sets my whole heart on fire.
“Can I ask you something?” I break the silence when he gives a swift bob of his head. “How are you not freaking out? I mean, I’ve known since my early teens, and the first time I was with a guy, I freaked out something awful.”
A frown forms on his face, and I let out a chuckle at his reaction.
“I don’t want to think of you with another man.” A pouting adult male who’s six feet five and two hundred and thirty pounds is adorable.
“Says the man who’s been with more girls than he’d care to admit,” I jest back.
“Not too many but, point made.” He takes in a deep breath. “Remember how pissed off I was when you came back in my life?”
“That was just three weeks ago, babe. I certainly can’t forget.” At my reply, Crush moves his hand over to my chest to flick it.
“Anymore smart-ass comments and that continues,” he states, but the gleam of lust in his eyes tells me he actually likes causing me pain. I’m down for it, too, so I pocket this idea for another day. “Anyway, I couldn’t get my head in the game because I’ve known for some time you affected me. Maybe if I was with another man, I’d be freaking out, and honestly, I’m not sure if I’m gay, bi-sexual, or even pan. All I know is I’ve been wanting this for some time and wasn’t able to express it. So the reason I’m not freaking out, pretty boy, is that I’ve wanted this for longer than I can admit. You’re the only reason I’m not freaking the fuck out.”