My husband and I enjoy golf, although I'm mostly what you'd call a "duffer," and we love watching it on TV. I don't know the exact inspiration for this story unless I had the idea of writing a sports story about rivals. Since golf is something I know, this was the sport I chose. The cover wonderfully expresses the elation a golfer feels when they've made a hole in one.
During the days, they were fierce nineteen-year-old rivals in a collegiate golf competition, but at night, their passion sizzled under the sheets. When Team USA won, Rio “River” Vargas returned to his native Spain, and Greg Thorenson headed back to his home in the United States. When Rio didn’t respond to a letter he sent, Greg wasn’t sure if his silence was because Greg had beaten him for the win or because in Rio's mind their affair had only been a four night fling. It had been something more for Greg. He had fallen in love.
Now six silent years later, Greg and Rio meet again as champions at the top of their game in a tournament with thousands of dollars in prizes. But there's more than money at risk here. If they reignite the smoldering embers of desire, and one of them wins, could it destroy their chance at love forever...
...“I understand it’s an old Spanish custom to bring a gift. My compliments.” Greg handed him a tall, brown sack.
River smiled as he withdrew a bottle of Shiraz. “Gracias, amigo. You may visit me anytime.”
Greg watched strong fingers with practiced skill uncork the wine bottle and decant the dark ruby, almost purple liquid into a glass without disturbing any sediment there might be. He handed the glass to Greg, who swirled the wine and sniffed its frangrant bouquet before tasting it. “Hmm. I think the vintner who sold me this was right. What do you think?”
River accepted the glass and repeated the ritual. When he drank, Greg noticed he placed his mouth where Greg’s had been, and he watched the dark wine touch lips meant for kissing.
Rio handed back the glass and poured one for himself. Lifting his drink, he said, “Salud.”
“Salud.” Their glasses clinked, and Greg started to bring his to his mouth, but River interrupted him by putting his arm through Greg’s so they would drink with their arms entwined. As they sipped, their gazes met like a bride and groom at a wedding reception. The gesture sent Greg’s blood swimming. When River set his glass on the counter, Greg put his beside it and stepped toward him.
The kiss was inevitable. Greg just hadn’t known how soon it would happen. He’d thought sometime after dinner, but now he wasn’t going to wait any longer to act on his longing to be with this man. Time was too short and not to be wasted any longer. Who knew how long they would be together this time?
River didn’t back away. He leaned in. Their lips met, pressed and slid, sharing the full-bodied taste of the wine. Greg didn’t know which of them had opened their mouths first, but soon their tongues had invaded to explore and delight in the warm moisture inside. The intensity of the kiss heightened into deep pressure and a frantic tangling of their tongues.
“Take off your shirt,” Greg murmured against lips puffy from their kisses.
A trembling River yanked his shirt up and over his head. He reached for Greg’s and almost ripped it off.
Greg wrapped his arms around River’s neck, and River slid his around Greg’s waist and pulled him close. Greg inhaled the masculine scent and paused to enjoy the tingling that began where their nipples touched, but the soft brush of the fine dark hairs across the Spaniard's chest sent flaring, churning need through to his core. “I want to touch you so badly I can taste it. I don’t want to share you tonight. I want you all to myself.” Greg rubbed his swollen cock against River’s and heard a responsive groan from deep in the man’s throat.
“Then touch me.” River took Greg’s hand and wedged it inside the front of his workout pants until Greg reached the warm, satiny skin of his cock and closed his hand around it...
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