Icing on the Cake: Excerpt
[The following is an excerpt from Icing on the Cake, the second Slapshot! novel. Available now on Amazon, Kobo, and iTunes.]
Luke pushed through some beads into the next aisle of the dim, dingy costume shop. He listened to them tinkle together again as he watched Mason. The brunet was standing there, staring at the top of the shelf, eyes scanning the merchandise. He reached up, took a package off the top shelf, let his touch linger on it. Then he placed it back. He stepped back, one finger tapping thoughtfully against his lips. He glanced at Luke, his eyes bright, startlingly blue in the dim light of the store. “What do you think? Should I get a wig?”
Mason pulled another box off the shelf. “Like, I could be a redhead. Or a bodacious blonde—or we could go really weird, like green or something—blue beehive?”
Luke shook his head. “We said cross-dresser, not drag queen.”
Mason considered, then tugged in his own locks. “So you think this is fine.”
“Well,” Luke huffed, flushing, “yeah. I mean …”
“I mean for the costume, Luke. Not if you like my hair—pretty sure I know the answer to that, given how you like trying to yank it out every time I blow you.”
“What, you mean like the one time you blew me?”
“It was more than once.”
“I’m pretty sure you still owe me a bj from back in the summer …”
Mason was back to looking at the shelf. Then he walked around the unit, to the next. Luke trailed him. The alpha paused, then picked up one of the maid outfits. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, frowning, then dropped it. “Like, how over the top do you want me to be?”
“I dunno, Mayday, it’s kinda up to you …”
The brunet grabbed a pair of stockings up from the adjacent rack. He contemplated for a moment. “’Kay,” he said, then went back to inspecting the costumes. “What about this one? I don’t like that one, too shiny, the fabric’s cheap—this one’s nice, lots of lace—”
Then he paused, frowning. “You think they’ve got my size?”
Luke blinked. “Why don’t you try it on?”
Mason stared at him, then grabbed up the costume and made a beeline for the front desk. Luke’s stomach knotted.
He’d just said something really stupid, hadn’t he?
“Sure thing,” the clerk said, leading Mason back around, “change rooms are right over here—those are women’s though, I don’t know about the fit—”
He eyed Mason warily. “Did you look at the men’s—”
“Yeah,” Mason said, “and it’s all shit. They’re meant to be jokes, funny, not sexy.”
The guy looked him up and down, then said, “Well, I give you that.” He pulled back a tattered velvet curtain that had seen better days. “In here.”
“Great,” Mason said, then darted behind the velvet and tugged it back across the opening.
The clerk and Luke stood there silently, staring at each other.
“So ..,” the guy drawled, “you two are like …”
“Nah,” Luke said.
The guy nodded. “Cool. I mean, either way. Cool.”
The clerk waited a moment more, then said, “You … need anything?”
A hand shot out from behind the curtain, one finger crooked. “Luke,” Mason purred, “c’mere. I need a hand with this zipper.”
“’Kay, Luke said, then ducked into the change room, letting the curtain fall shut behind him.
Mason pinned him to the wall, nipping at his lips. “Not like that, huh?” he purred. “Gonna let the clerk hit on you, huh?”
Luke frowned, shoved the alpha off. “What are you talking about? Where’s this zipper?”
Mason turned about. “Here. I can’t get it started—if you get it halfway up, I can grab it, get it the rest of the way.”
Luke crouched down, grabbed the tab, listening to the teeth zip together. Mason inhaled sharply, and the zipper slid up more easily, up into his waiting hand. Luke looked up at him, the soft, black fabric falling over his ass, the flounce of the lacy skirt kissing the tops of his tanned thighs, and then the bodice cutting in sharply, melded to him like a second skin, so tight there was barely room to breathe. And he watched Mason breathe, the outward expansion of his ribs, each exhalation causing everything to collapse inward.
The fabric was stretched tight over his shoulders, the barely-there sleeves set to rip at any sudden motion, pinching off his movement. He tugged the zipper the rest of the way up, then turned about to face Luke, wicked grin plastered to his face.
Luke swallowed thickly, staring at the alpha—all six feet and two inches of him—encased in silk and satin, wrapped in lace. The lacy skirt was even shorter in the front, affording him almost no decency, but damn, he had legs for days, long and lean and tanned, and he leaned over and said, “I need heels,” and Luke shook his head, landed his hands on the alpha’s lace-covered ass, rasped, “You look fine like this.”
Mason shook his head, backed away. He was tugging on the stockings, and Luke watched with rapt attention as the black fabric rolled over Mason’s calves, then his thighs, accentuating their golden color.
Mason’s backside was reflected in the mirror and Luke caught a glimpse of lacy panties hugging the alpha’s ass lovingly.
Mason popped his head out of the change room, saying, “Could you grab me a pair of heels to go with this?”
“Sure,” the clerk said, “uh, what size do you think?”
“Oh, probably like a thirteen or a fourteen if you’ve got them—the women’s, right, not the dudes’ crap.”
“Sure thing,” the guy said, then walked off.
Luke kept his gaze glued to Mason’s butt as the alpha watched the guy go; he was leaned forward, his ass stuck way out, and Luke couldn’t help but notice.
The alpha drew the curtain again, grinned ferally at Luke. He shoved him down on the tiny wooden stool in the corner of the claustrophobic space. “Like what you see?” he asked, his voice dropping a notch or two.
“Yeah,” Luke replied, and Mason smirked, straddled his lap. Luke slid his hands under that skirt, in part to help the brunet keep his balance, in part because he was curious and turned on beyond belief and Mason was teasing him, the jackass.
Mason nipped at his ear, tugged on the lobe, whispered, “I heard you’ve been a dirty little boy, Luke. Do you need me to clean you up?”
Luke shuddered as Mason’s breath washed over him, hot air raising gooseflesh all down his nape.
He bit his lip.
Mason stepped away, headed back to the curtain. He tugged at the rumpled skirt, as though he could pull it down far enough to be decent. He held Luke’s gaze, biting at his lip. “Do you wanna make a mess?” he whispered. “Hm? Do you wanna make a mess of me, get me all dirty too?”
“Yeah,” Luke breathed.
“So dirty,” Mason whispered, “you could slide up this skirt, pull these panties out of the way and make such a mess, Luke, make a mess in me, all over me, and then I’d have to walk home with your mess dripping down my thighs …”
“Fuck,” Luke swore, looking away. “Where’d you learn to talk like that, I know they don’t teach that in Thunder Bay.”
“There’s a lot of porn stars in LA,” Mason replied, then held up a hand. He opened the curtain. “Oh hey, thanks.”
“Those look like the right size?” the clerk asked.
“I dunno, guess I’ll try ‘em on and see.”
“C-cool. Um. Call if you need anything?”
“Thanks.” Luke could practically hear the smirk in Mason’s voice.
He released the curtain again and turned to face Luke. He dropped the shoes to the floor, then stepped into them one by one, rocking a bit on the stilettos. He put a hand on his hip, cocked it to one side.
Luke’s mouth went dry. “That is … something,” he said.
Mason landed one foot on the stool, right beside Luke’s hand. “So?” he growled. “You make a mess yet, Luke? Do I gotta clean you up?”
“Uh-huh,” Luke groaned, because if he hadn’t yet, he was gonna shortly.
Mason’s grin was all teeth. He straddled Luke’s lap again. He wrapped his arms around Luke’s neck, licked his way up his nape, nipped at his jawline. “Oh baby, we’ll get you all cleaned up …”
Luke slid his hands under the skirt again, rubbed the alpha’s cloth-clad ass, revealing in the feeling of silk under his fingertips.
“Fuck, you look hot like that,” he managed, letting his hands slide around to the front, rubbing Mason’s bulge through the flimsy fabric of the panties. The silk was already wet, precum pearling from the head of Mason’s erect cock, smearing over the fabric.
The alpha rocked into his touch. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I do.”
Luke sighed. “You’re so fucking vain sometimes.”
“You like it,” Mason purred, sitting up straighter, tossing his head back. He wrapped his arms around Luke a little tighter, pulled them closer.
“Keep going,” he growled, licked Luke’s ear.
Luke obeyed, hooking a finger in the waistband of the panties, rolling them down, until they were stretched across Mason’s thighs, allowing him free access to the alpha’s swollen prick. He wrapped a hand around him tightly, squeezing hard, flicking his wrist when he reached the top, sliding his thumb over the alpha’s head.
Mason moved his hips a little faster in response. He’d gone red in the face; his breath was coming short as he pumped into Luke’s hand.
Luke glanced toward the curtain. He was sick, excited. They’d never done anything like this. The last time they’d done anything even semi-public, they’d been in the back of Brad’s pick-up truck at prom, both of them drunk and Luke in heat for the very first time.
Mason’s hands tensed on his shoulders, gripping the dark-haired omega harder as he let go. His nails dug into Luke’s shoulders, nearly drawing blood; he broke the skin when he bit his lip, bright red pooling beneath his too-white teeth.
Luke watched his eyes flutter shut, the look of deep satisfaction that crossed his face, evident in every line, the slack of every muscle. He inhaled through his nose, then opened his eyes again, licking blood from his lip.
“This one’s good, yeah?” he whispered.
Luke nodded, then looked at his hand, grimacing.
Mason glanced around, then handed Luke a sock. He tossed the other in the wastebasket. “They had holes in them anyway,” he said, and Luke rolled his eyes, wiped his hand off on the scratchy fabric anyway. He pitched it into the bin.
Mason changed back into his street clothes, packed the costume up, stuffing the stockings back into their case. “We can have some more fun when we get home,” he said, “so long as you promise not to get it dirty before the party—”
“No,” Luke sighed.
“No?” Mason asked. He looked perturbed.
Luke shook his head.
“‘cuz,” Luke sighed, “Sean’ll be home.”
Icing on the Cake: Available now on Amazon, Kobo, and iTunes.
Danny gets Matt the same birthday present every year. This year, he’s decided to mix things up a bit.
Enlisting the help of his teammate Luke and Luke’s boyfriend, Mason, Danny gets to work on gifting Matt a birthday experience he’ll never forget. And it just so happens that Matt’s birthday falls so close to Halloween, which means playing dress-up is all but required.