reviews_and_ramblings | Excerpt Day: Dripping Hot by G.A. Hauser

Dripping Hot by G.A. Hauser
Release Date: July 15, 2009
Publisher: Linden Bay Romance
ISBN: 978-1-60202-203-4
Publisher Link: http://www.lindenbayromance.com/product-drippinghot-7343-145.html

Blurb: When fate knocks you for a loop, might as well have lots of company. Action! Book 5. Mark Richfield is trying to cope with the pressure of the holidays, his out-of-control son, Alex, and too many men in his life to keep his sanity intact. As if that isnï¿½t enough, his image on the latest Sunset Strip billboards has all of LA buzzing. As he tries to come to terms with Alex’s growing independence not to mention the young man’s infatuation with Mark’s partner, Steve, Mark does what he does best. Come apart at the seams. Steve has bigger battles to fight than fending off Alex’s attentions. His parents have discovered that he married a man and has a son. His greatest fear is that his homophobic father will harm the ones he loves. When Alex goes missing from a nightclub near the Rose Bowl Stadium, that worry becomes a terrifying reality.

Excerpt:

Mark relaxed in his leather swivel chair behind his desk, his phone headset fitted snugly over his long brown hair. “No.”

“Dad!”

“Alexander, you are too young to go to nightclubs. The answer is no.”

“Oliver’s playing a gig there Saturday night.”

“No. I’m very happy you are dating Angel Loveday’s son, but it still doesn’t mean I will allow you to drink together at a ‘club’.”

“You suck.”

“Thank you kindly.”

“It’s an under twenty-one club and they don’t serve liquor to you if you’re not twenty-one yet.”

“And that’s supposed to comfort me?” Mark tapped at the keyboard of his computer, splitting his attention.

“Oliver and his band are jamming at a gig. He’s playing guitar in a battle of the bands and I want to go. I will go.”

“A gig.” Mark rolled his eyes. “Jamming at a gig?”

“Jesus, Dad. Are you sixty?”

“I resent that.” Mark despised any dig at his age. Thirty-eight was bleedin’ old enough. “I know what a bloody gig is. Don’t act smart with me, young man.”

“I’ll be home by midnight. Promise.”

“Who’s bloody driving and where is this flamin’ ‘gig’?” Mark hated the sound of it. Hated it.

“Here we go. Don’t get all British on me… Come on, Dad… The drummer, Jessie’s driving his van there with all their gear. Oliver will pick me up to take back to his house, and Jess will drive from there.”

“What’s this flamin’ club called?”

“Club SoCal.”

“Club SoCal?” Mark repeated. “Never heard of it.”

“Why would you? You’re not exactly nineteen.”

“Alex!” Mark had enough of the age slams. “We’ll discuss this when Steven and I get home.”

“Good. Steve will let me go. At least he’s cool.”

“You’re pushing it, Alexander.” Before Mark got out another word, his son hung up on him. Mark hadn’t realized how difficult fatherhood would be. When your illegitimate son shows up at your door at age nineteen, it isn’t exactly easy to tame him. Especially a young man as beautiful and as hot to trot as Alexander Mark Lehman-Richfield.

Distracted by a knock on his open office door, Mark peered up from his computer, still deep in contemplation.

“You busy?” Danny asked.

“No. Come in.” Mark waved him closer.

Danny made himself comfortable on the chair in front of Mark’s desk, a file in his hand. “Harold just handed me this account.” He waved the paperwork. “It’s an older one from yet another one of our departing dinosaurs.”
Mark winced, wondering when that term would be applied to him. He had at least ten years on this young man, but had wholeheartedly supported hiring Danny and his identical twin Donny. Parsons and Company needed new blood. It just was his own personal insecurities that kept Mark unhappy about being surrounded by gorgeous, lithe youth.

Danny sighed loudly. “I suppose I just wanted your input on how to approach them. You have more experience than I do.”

Mark tried not to snap at what he considered another dig at his age. He knew damn well this was his residual anger from his conversation with Alex. “Yes, love. Give it here and let me have a look.” Mark reached out for the file. As he thumbed through it, he said, “Yes, quite typically there’s not enough internet exposure. I think our senior staff had a fear of all things digital.”

Danny chuckled.

Mark peered up at him. The adorable young man was leaning his chin on his palm, his elbow propped on the desk, gazing at him.

Slightly distracted by the intensity of Danny’s brown eyes, Mark regained his train of thought. “Right. I’d suggest a topnotch website, adverts that run on all the major search engines, and bring our web portfolio with you to show off what we can do for them.” He flipped another page before looking up again at Danny. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Danny smiled dreamily. “I meant to tell you. I love the new Dangereux Cologne campaign they’re running for Christmas.”

A smile edged out Mark’s pensive mood. “That silly thing.”

“Silly?” Danny purred. “It’s fucking sexy.”

Mark blushed instantly, closing the folder.

“You…in those tight black slacks…and nothing else?” Danny whispered. “Sitting like Santa, waiting for someone to cuddle on your lap… Mother-fucker.”

“Daniel. You’re embarrassing me.” Mark loved it.

“Will you be our Santa for the Parsons and Company Christmas party?”

“I doubt it very much.” Mark nudged the file towards him.

“I wouldn’t mind sitting on top of you, whispering my Christmas wish into your ear.”

Just as Mark’s skin lit on fire at the sexual comment, he was shocked out of his trance when Steve entered his office. “Hey, Mark, I just got a call from Alex.”

The way Danny bolted to his feet and snatched the file from the desk had “guilty as sin” written all over it. He passed Steve at the doorway and said, “Thanks for the input, Mark,” before escaping down the hall.

“What was that all about?”

Waving Steve’s question off, Mark said, “I told Alexander we’d discuss his attendance at the ‘gig’ at home later.”

Steve moved to stand beside him, taking the phone set off his head so he could toy with Mark’s long locks. “He said Oliver is playing guitar there.”

“And? So?” Mark spun around to confront Steve. “Allow him to go drinking at a club? Don’t indulge him, Steven.”

“Wanna play chaperone?”

“Oh, please.” Mark choked. “Tolerate loud rubbish for hours on end in a bar for nineteen-year-olds? Do you hear yourself?”

“You sound like an old man,” Steve said.

Mark combusted. “That was over the top, Steven. Fine. You want to go? Go! Leave me alone.” To show an end to the topic, he spun to his computer, giving Steve his back.

“Mark… Mark Antonious, stop ignoring me.”

All the lovely warmth from Danny’s compliment had vaporized into self-doubt again. Mark rubbed his face in agony. “I need fucking Botox.”

“Mark.” Steve physically spun Mark’s chair around to face him. He plopped down on Mark’s lap, looping his arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“What did we say about this type of thing in the workplace, Steven?” Mark gave him an admonishing raising of his eyebrow. “The bloody door’s open.”

Steve nudged Mark’s long hair aside and licked his ear. “I have a Christmas wish, Santa.”

Mark humored him, cracking a smile. He knew that ad would get him this type of attention. “Depending on whether or not you have been a bad or good boy, what would you like Santa to bring you this year, copper?”

“A week…you and me in the French Alps…alone…so I can suck and fuck you to my heart’s content.”

Though he was intrigued, Mark replied, “We have a son. A son who, without parental control, will go wild. And you already do fuck and suck me to your heart’s content right here in LA.”

When Steve began chewing on his jaw and neck, sending tingles through his crotch, Mark closed his eyes. “Stop. We’re at work.” That didn’t even convince me.