Falling Hard- An Action! Series Book

By GA Hauser

Book 28 in the Action! Series

As things ramp up for the men of the Action! Series, the fallout from Mark and Steve’s separation continues to play havoc on the group. What has become intolerable friction between them, splits the close knit men apart, choosing sides.

As Mark Antonious Richfield battles to gain what he lost, his father’s billion dollar business, his husband Steven Jay Miller, forces himself to come to terms with reality.

But all is not lost for the two men...
The dust will settle...the love remains.
And...an even stronger partnership has been made between them.

Mark & Steve- Falling Hard...we skinned our knees when we did it as kids.
As adults, we fall for another reason. Passion and loyalty.
And it’s both of those traits that keep the men of the Action! Series from falling...apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Mar 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370016341

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

Book preview

FALLING HARD

an Action! Series Book

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2018

FALLING HARD

Book 28 of the Action~ Series

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2018

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1985-3460-9-3

© The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

Cover design by Adrienne Wilder

Cover model: Grigoris Drakakis

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

April 2018

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Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

About the cover designer:

ADRIENNE WILDER’S BIOGRAPHY:

Writing has been my dream for as long as I can remember. I wrote my first book at the age of five using a crayon and construction paper, and received my first rejection letter at the age of fourteen for a short story about a rainbow iguana. For years the books I wrote stayed in a notebook hidden in a drawer or on my computer never to be read by anyone but me.

I am socially awkward and hyper-creative. Born a girl, I was always a boy. Growing up, a lot of people tried to change me.

Except for my mother. She might have never understood but she loved completely and unconditionally.

That alone makes me one of the luckiest people in the world.

Currently I live near the North Georgia Mountains and spend most of my time documenting the life of the people in my head. Hopefully you find as much joy learning about them as I do.

Author’s website: Adriennewilder.com

E-mail: [e-mail]

Chapter 1

Wearing tight white pants, a brimmed blue cap, and a numbered jersey, Mark Antonious Richfield held a bat ready.

Stan’s gay coed baseball league had begun spring training, and he had been invited to join.

In the mild Southern California sunshine, Mark waited for his first pitch. To his pleasure, it came right down the pipe, as he had hoped. He swung, making a loud crack-sound and watched it sail.

~

Standing behind the backstop with his teammates, Stan Charles pumped his arm in joy and screamed for Mark to run the bases. The ball bounced deeply into the outfield, and the opposing side was battling to throw it towards the pitcher.

Go! Mark! Go!

Everyone was on their feet cheering.

Mark, running like a gazelle, had lost his cap rounding second, and was barreling towards home.

Stan was so excited he couldn’t believe how incredible Mark’s performance was.

Beside him his buddies were yelling encouragement as they jumped up and down, pumping their arms over their heads.

Mark slid hands first into home plate and at his aggressive move, the catcher lost the ball and stumbled to retrieve it.

Stan raced over to Mark, who was smiling when the umpire called him, Safe! Mark’s white uniform was coated in the brown clay dust as he sat up and seemed to appreciate the cheering surrounding him.

Becca laughed when she said, Let me guess, you’ve played this game before.

A bit. Mark stood, leaning over to brush the dirt from his pants.

Oswald shot Stan a big smile. You have to be kidding me! He’s going to rock this team into first place.

Fred handed Mark his baseball cap.

Thank you, love. Mark put it on his head, his shoulder-length brown hair flowing under it. Mark wiped his palms on his thighs and caught his breath.

Stan was in awe as Mark composed himself after the home run. Lou was up at bat next, and it felt anticlimactic after the supermodel’s first time at bat.

Stan brushed off Mark’s jersey for him and then pulled him into his embrace. Where did you play?

Stanford. Jackie and I met whilst we were on the same team.

Becca handed Mark a bottle of water, beaming at him.

Ta, love. Mark drank from it.

Son-of-a-bitch. Stan shook his head. Baseball at Stanford U?

Yes. Mark wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I was invited to join a minor league club, but I didn’t take them up on it. Mark set the bottle down on their bench as Lou took a ball and backed away from the plate.

Stan tugged on Mark’s long hair playfully, madly in love with him.

I’m a filthy mess. Mark looked at his hands and knees.

Stan gazed at the bulge in Mark’s tight white pants and resisted the urge to touch him there.

Strike! was called.

Stan and Mark focused on the game, leaning shoulder to shoulder as they enjoyed the day, and the team-building sport.

~

Steven Jay Miller slouched low on a lawn chair.

A beer in his hand, Steve stared into space as his sister Laura secured a tablecloth to a picnic table in her backyard in Pasadena.

As she struggled to keep it from blowing, Steve said, Why don’t we eat inside?

I guess it’s too early in the year for a picnic-barbeque.

Steve’s brother-in-law, Barry was turning chicken and steaks on the outdoor grill. His eight-year old niece Chloe opened the back slider. Mom?

Yes? Laura gave up on the picnic table.

Grandma’s here.

Steve sat up and hoped it was Barry’s mother, since he had not told his parents that he and his husband Mark had separated.

We’re coming inside, Chloe. Why don’t you set the table? Laura avoided Steve’s eye.

The steaks are done, Laura. Barry used tongs to place them on the platter. The chicken needs another minute.

Steve leaned his elbows on his knees, the bottle in his hand. Laura? You didn’t invite Dad, did you? Just as Steve said it, his parents entered the backyard.

His mother wore a hand-knit red wool sweater, a large cross hung around her neck. Hello, Laura. Barry…Steven.

Steve noticed his father, a former LAPD police sergeant, peering out of the sliding door. He was in a scruffy flannel shirt, and his beer belly hung over his baggy-belted pants. The bitter man had gone completely gray in both his hair and his unshaven beard.

Hi, Mom, both Barry and Laura said in greeting.

Steve tried to keep calm. He had taken off his wedding ring recently.

Steven?

He glanced up at his mother, who was getting old, and looking haggard from what he could only assume was living with his idiot father. He stood up. Hi, Mom. He gave her a brief hug. When he turned to see his father, the angry man had walked away from the glass slider.

Where’s Mark? Susan asked, Is he modeling?

Uh. Steve caught his sister’s glance as she took the tray of steaks from Barry.

Mom? Chloe asked as she stood at the open back slider, Grandpa wants to know where he should put the beer he brought.

Steve? Laura asked, Can you show Dad the cooler in the garage?

He bit his lower lip and restrained the urge to say ‘fuck you’ to his older sister, since he adored her. But, this was too much. Dealing with his racist, homophobic father, and…having to tell them Mark and he were separated? FUCK.

Susan gestured for Steve to go inside. Go say hello to your father.

My father? Do you mean the asshole who aimed a gun at my African American girlfriend? The one who called my husband a pedophile? Steve clenched his jaw and brought his empty beer bottle into the house. His father, who also appeared much older than a man in his early seventies, was standing near a case of cheap beer he had placed on the counter.

In the garage. Steve put his bottle on the table Chloe was setting. Since his father just snarled in reply, Steve picked up the case and took it into the garage for him. He loaded up the iced cooler, and took one of the bottles, twisting off the cap. Lingering in the cluttered garage, one that was too full of junk and tools to hold a car, Steve drank his beer and wanted to leave.

His father approached him. Can ya give me a beer?

Steve handed him one.

Where’s your wedding ring? Dick Miller asked as he held the bottle near his mouth.

Steve was about to toss him a caustic reply but simply couldn’t. He didn’t have the energy to fight.

Stevie? Dad? Laura looked into the garage. Your steaks are on the table.

As Steve entered the kitchen near her, he grumbled, You didn’t tell me they were coming.

Tell them. She appeared angry.

Steve avoided her and stood behind his plate at the table.

Chloe looked upset. Are you okay, Uncle Steve?

His mother, Susan, took notice when she did.

Yes. Steve tipped up the beer, wanting no part of this little Saturday afternoon dinner.

~

Alexander Mark Richfield paced inside a studio in Burbank. His nighttime cable TV drama was on hiatus and he was battling for a relevant role in a new feature film.

Obligated to the studio for one more movie, Alex didn’t like the roles he was being offered. But, until he did one more flick, his talent agent Adam Lewis couldn’t do a thing to help him.

His lines memorized, Alex shut off his phone and kept pacing. The room was packed with actors preparing for auditions.

Finally, after refusing to audition for at least a dozen small supporting roles, Alex agreed to this one.

It was a movie role with an actor he had starred with previously, Jeremy Runner. He and Jeremy had costarred in a gay cowboy romance together. It was why he was auditioning. He really liked the man.

Alex? a woman called to him from an open door, We’re ready for you.

Alex noticed the actors in the waiting area take notice of him as he approached the audition room. Yes, even I still have to audition.

Do you need the sides? she asked.

No. I’ve got it.

She closed the door behind them, and took a seat at a rectangular table as he was introduced to the occupants he did not know.

Alex ran his hand over his long hair and placed his jacket on a vacant chair. Sadly, Jeremy wasn’t reading his lines with him. A stranger was.

Just state your name and the part you’re reading for, then begin.

Alex made sure he was standing on the tape marked on the floor, a place where a video camera could film him. Why he even had to audition for this part was making him furious. He’d made films with this studio; blockbusters. They knew what he could do.

I’m… he cleared his throat, I’m Alex Richfield, reading for the part of Joel Vandergrift. He tried to shake off his resentment, and spoke his memorized lines.

~

Mark stomped his shoes to rid the dried mud out of the tread. He sat on the passenger’s side of Stan’s mint-classic 1970 white Mustang, not wanting to get his interior filthy.

Stan, since he was their team captain, was discussing the coming schedule with other captains and their umpire, one they had hired for the season.

While Mark waited, exhausted from the game, he picked his phone up from the dashboard and checked his missed messages. He had several.

Mark leaned over to the driver’s side to see Stan. He was still holding paperwork and talking. Mark called one of his lovers and best friends, Jack Larsen.

Hey, Jack answered.

Hullo, Jackie. Mark tugged down the car’s visor to get at the mirror and realized his face was coated in dirt. He wiped at it.

What are you up to?

Playing baseball, if you believe it. Mark gave up since his hands were grimy. He sank in the seat.

Are you? Where?

Stan is part of a league. You should play.

Christ, it’s been so long.

Tell me about it. Mark kept his gaze on Stan’s broad back, the number and logo on the jersey, stretched wide on his muscular form. I think I shall be sore for a week.

What position are you playing?

They have me at first. It’s a challenge.

Adam and I wondered what you were doing for dinner.

We haven’t decided. Mark checked the time. It was nearing two.

We?

Mark rolled his eyes. Jackie.

So, I can’t get you to come on your own? Huh? You’re connected at the hip already?

Mark knew this separation from Steve was going to be a challenge. Stan was twenty-six, younger than Mark’s son Alexander. Mark and his peers were in their forties.

Mark noticed Stan smiling, shaking someone’s hand. As he spoke on the phone, Mark ran the small gold charm along the chain of the necklace Stan had given him. It was a Hebrew ‘chai’, the symbol for ‘life’.

The big man sat in the driver’s seat beside him, placing the paperwork on the back seat.

Seeing how sexy Stan was in his baseball uniform, Mark kissed him, still holding the phone to his ear.

Mark? Jack asked.

Stan mouthed, ‘Who you talkin’ to?’

‘Jackie,’ Mark mouthed back. I’m still here, love. Mark purred as Stan drew him closer, inside the car, nibbling Mark’s neck.

Dinner? Jack asked again.

~

While Stan tasted Mark’s salty neck, he could hear Jack on the other side of the conversation asking Mark about dinner. He sat correctly in the driver’s seat, and stared into Mark’s catlike green eyes. Do you want to go to dinner with him? Stan asked.

Mark cupped the phone. Not without you.

It’s fine by me. We don’t have plans.

Jack? Mark rubbed Stan’s inner thigh. Stan and I are free. Would you care to meet at the place in Malibu, by your home?

Hang on. Jack sounded as if needed clearance from his other half.

While he waited, Mark cupped the back of Stan’s head and kissed him, swirling tongues.

Okay. Mark?

Mark parted from the hot kiss. Yes?

Meet at the restaurant at eight. Adam said he’ll make reservations.

All right. Mark shifted to move closer to the passenger’s door and sat correctly, still rubbing Stan’s inner thigh.

Bye.

Bye. Mark tossed the phone on the dashboard. Could you hear him?

I could. Stan adjusted his baseball cap to face backwards and turned the ignition key. At first, nothing happened, so Stan waited, made sure the stick-shift was in park, and tried again. The classic car sputtered and ignited. Stan revved it to revive it, since the rebuilt engine was temperamental.

Once the motor sounded as if it was firing evenly, he stopped pumping the gas pedal. I don’t mind if you want to go alone. I get the feeling they don’t care for me.

They don’t know you. Mark kept his hand on Stan’s thigh. I think we have to allow everyone to become used to the idea. Change is hard for people.

Stan glanced at Mark’s profile, knowing jealousy was a huge part of why people did dislike him. After all, he was living with the ‘World’s Most Beautiful Man’, the Nation’s Top Male Model.

He lowered the volume of the music that was playing, to both hear Mark, and listen to the finicky engine. As Stan pulled out of the crowded parking lot, he waved to some of his teammates who were lingering.

One of his buddies, Antwon Jackson, caught him before he drove off. He leaned down so he could speak to Stan through his window. Stan opened it up, and put the car in neutral, setting the emergency brake. What’s up? Stan asked, seeing the powdery dust on Antwon’s dark skin.

Becca suggested we all go for a pizza once we clean up.

Stan thought about the plans Mark had just made. Oh. Uh. Mark and I are going to meet a couple of his buddies. He glanced at Mark and noticed him staring into space, as if tired.

What are you doing tomorrow? While Antwon spoke, Fred Chew, and Becca McKenna joined him, leaning on Antwon and trying to poke their heads into the car.

Tomorrow? Stan knew they were modeling next weekend. Mark?

Hm? Mark glanced at him.

Do we have plans for tomorrow?

I’ve a lesson with Chloe scheduled, and I hoped you and I could ride.

Becca laughed. Don’t you love his accent? Shed-uled?

Fred asked, Ride?

Stan cleared his throat. Yeah. Uh. Mark bought me a horse.

All three of his friends made choking sounds in surprise. He bought one for you? Fred asked, his dark eyes wide in surprise.

Stan’s cheeks warmed up from embarrassment at the possibility that his friends would think he was a boy-toy and not Mark’s equal partner, but the financial divide was bigger than their age difference.

Okay. Antwon shrugged. I can’t compete with a horse.

Where do you ride? Petite Becca muscled her way closer to Stan, nudging the two men.

Glendale. He noticed Mark texting.

Huh. Are there horses we can ride? Becca asked.

No. It’s a boarding stable, not a public riding one. Stan felt Mark touch him. Mark was trying to show Becca the horses.

Stan took Mark’s phone and found pictures of both Piccadilly’s Phantom and Bollward’s Tempest, or ‘Bull’. The white one’s Mark’s. I have the big brown one. He showed them the phone.

Wow! Becca took it from Stan and started scrolling.

Stan had no idea what other photos Mark had on his phone, or what Becca may find. Mark didn’t appear concerned.

Mark said, We may be free in the afternoon, Stan. Mark ran his hand along Stan’s leg.

I can text you guys. Stan stared at Becca.

Becca’s full attention was on Mark’s phone. She stood behind Antwon and Fred, using her thumbs to be nosy.

Cool. I guess after riding you won’t want to hit the video arcade for paintball. Antwon peered behind him. Yo! Oswald! Lou! You into pizza?

Yes!

Stan would rather have pizza with his friends than a stuffy dinner with Adam Lewis and Jack Larsen. Becca? He gestured to Mark’s phone.

She kept it a moment longer, continuing her investigation of Mark’s details. When he noticed her tapping what appeared to be a text, Stan asked, What are you doing?

Nuthin. Her cheeks went red and she finally gave Stan back Mark’s phone.

Stan took a look at it when she did, and it no longer showed any pictures of horses. He gave it to Mark, who didn’t even look at it.

Where are you going for pizza? Stan asked, his hand on the gear shift as his car sounded as if it was running rough, missing, and the smell of burned motor oil lingered.

The friends conferred, and Oswald Black, who had joined their powwow with the introverted Lou McFadden, said, Stan? Don’t you still have your place in West Hollywood?

You wanna use it? Stan glanced at Mark, but he had checked out and was either tired or bored.

No. Antwon nudged him. Come. Meet us there.

Stan said, I’ll let you know. He indicated Mark, and then smiled. See ya. Great practice, guys.

Yeah. It was awesome. Fred patted the car, and the five twenty-somethings backed up from the driver’s door.

Releasing the brake and putting the car in first, Stan entered the main street on his way to Bel Air. For some reason, his car sounded like crap today.

Love?

Yes?

If you would prefer an evening with your mates, I understand.

Stan slowed for a traffic signal. I’m cool with dinner.

Perhaps we can do both? Mark squeezed his knee. A light bite with Jackie, and then go to yours for pizza?

Could we?

Of course. And, we can sleep at your place after. No worries.

Stan smiled. You’re awesome.

Actually, I think I shall be sore. Mark rubbed his shoulder. I’m not twenty-one any longer.

Stan then asked…again… Um. How old are you?

Mark raised one eyebrow at him. Cheeky monkey.

Since it was becoming a standing joke, Stan grinned and kept heading to Bel Air.

~

Alex left the audition wondering if…the part was his.

He got the usual, ‘Nice work. We’ll be in touch,’ bullshit.

As he walked to his car in the studio lot, Alex kept muttering, fuck you, fuck you…to no one in particular. He sat down in his car and scrolled through contacts on his phone. When he came to one, he sent at text. ‘I just auditioned for Snapped.’

‘Why the fuck did you have to audition?’

‘Can I call?’

‘yes.’

Alex checked the time and knew Billy had work to do for his police-chief job