A Very Filthy Game – Winner Takes All Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
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When I reach the coffee shop, I push Rafe and his arrangement out of my mind to concentrate on my meeting with Owen. We grab drinks and a table in the back. We chat a little about the game last night and the one coming up, and then I steer things to the reason we’re here.

“So, what’s on your mind, O? Your note seemed unusually clandestine.”

He laughs softly, then clears his throat, shifting his tone. “I want to tell you something as a friend. Someone with your best interests at heart.”

This sounds serious. “What is it?”

“I say this, too, as one queer man to another. I want you to be careful,” he says.

I bristle. “What do you mean?”

Wild thoughts race in my head, pinging between defensive and alarmed. He was at the stadium the other night. Did he walk past the suite when I was down on my knees?

Owen swallows as if this is difficult for him to say. He might even be blushing. “I never want to police anyone’s after-hours activities. Whatever you like, you like. Your choices are your choices. I just don’t want to see you in a compromising position,” he says.

I catch his drift. It’s two plus two, not higher math. “Are you saying you don’t want me to get caught with my pants down?”

He laughs, sounding relieved. “Yeah, I am kind of saying that.”

“And are you saying you know what I did the other night?”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “No. But I know who the stationery came from. I know you went to Marlow’s suite afterward. And I think whatever you’re doing on your own time is entirely your business.” He blows out a breath. “I just don’t want to see an unscrupulous fan take a photo of you. Catch you doing something risqué. Doesn’t matter if it’s with a man or a woman. I don’t want you shown in a light that would cause any concern. Do you get my meaning?”

I go a little cold all over. There are risks to the desires Rafe is unlocking in me. That’s what makes him appealing.

But Owen’s point is a damn good one.

What if some intrepid photographer with a long-range lens had taken a photo of me sucking Rafe’s dick in the owner’s suite? What if someone at The West House had snuck a cell phone in? How would that affect my sponsorship deals? My reputation? Any future partnerships?

Even if it didn’t hurt my career, it certainly wouldn’t help.

“I appreciate you looking out for me,” I say sincerely. “It means a lot.”

Owen’s smile is ninety-nine percent relieved. “I hope so. I’m all for the edgy, sexy image you put online. But for your sake, I want to make sure nobody can misinterpret that edgy, sexy image.”

My phone pings with an alert that I need to get moving if I’m going to board the plane with the rest of the team. We gather our trash and I say goodbye on autopilot.

On the way to the airport, and onto the team plane, I consider what Owen said.

His points are an icy dose of reality. A tryst with Rafe might be too risky. I mull it over as we buckle in and the aircraft taxis for takeoff.

By the time we’re winging away from San Francisco, I’m convinced that seeing Rafe again would be a very bad idea. It will help to see Mom and my little brother in New York. To reconnect with my priorities. My focus should be on work and family, not on sex.

I stare out the window as we fly east. I don’t chat with Zane or the other guys on the team. I don’t watch the shows I downloaded to my phone.

Somewhere over the Central time-zone line, I open my texts and start a new one addressed to the man who made me a proposal last night.

25

A LITTLE OBSESSED

Rafe

Normally, business demands my full attention, and I like it that way. Work saw me through the death of my parents in a car crash back in uni. It carried me through those early days of grief. Then, over time, business became everything.

The sheer attention my work requires has kept me driven and focused for more than a decade. Lucas was my only wobble.

But on Friday during a marketing meeting, I can’t seem to keep my mind in the conference room or on Matthew’s pitch for the new You Do You campaign.

I wonder if Gunnar has landed in New York. If he’s out with friends from his baseball team. If he’s thought about my proposed arrangement.

“And we’ve enlisted our regular marketing agency for this project,” Matthew says, and I realize he’s wrapping up his presentation.

Right. Regular agency. I glance at the last slide still on the screen. It all sounds standard. It shouldn’t matter that my attention wandered for a minute. I have talented people who run each division, making the daily decisions. But I like the thirty-thousand-foot view I get by sitting in on these meetings.



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