Bases Loaded: Club Desire, #2

By Megan Slayer

Mix one lanky shortstop with two brawny Doms and what do you get? A white hot good time.

 

On the baseball field, shortstop Rocke Houseman commands the crowd. They cheer as he makes plays and hits home runs. He loves his job in professional sports, but there's something missing. He wants to be true to himself. When he tears up his knees during a critical play, his whole life is thrown into chaos. He turns to the one place he knows to find balance—Club Desire.

 

Carson and Jeremiah are a packaged deal. You deal with one, you deal with both. When the gutsy sub comes into Desire and wants a Dom, they step in to help him out. Rocke fits their bill—he's athletic and lanky, but knows how to take direction. Can they help him work out his issues one ménage at a time? Or will the passion exploding amongst them be the final out?

 

This book has been re-edited for this re-issue.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Slayer
• Release date: Jul 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393122104

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com. When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Book preview

Bases Loaded

A Club Desire, book 2

by

Megan Slayer

Bases Loaded

Copyright © 2020, Megan Slayer

Edited by Michele Paulin

Cover Art by WZDesigns

Published by Megan Slayer Publishing

Warning: All rights reserved. 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.

Electronic Release: July 2020

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Mix one lanky shortstop with two brawny Doms and what do you get? A white hot good time.

On the baseball field, shortstop Rocke Houseman commands the crowd. They cheer as he makes plays and hits home runs. He loves his job in professional sports, but there’s something missing. He wants to be true to himself. When he tears up his knees during a critical play, his whole life is thrown into chaos. He turns to the one place he knows to find balance—Club Desire.

Carson and Jeremiah are a packaged deal. You deal with one, you deal with both. When the gutsy sub comes into Desire and wants a Dom, they step in to help him out. Rocke fits their bill—he’s athletic and lanky, but knows how to take direction. Can they help him work out his issues one ménage at a time? Or will the passion exploding amongst them be the final out?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

About the Author

More in the Club Desire Series

For the Lucky Ducks

For JPZ

Chapter One

I ’m going to snag a Dom tonight if it kills me, Rocke Houseman muttered to himself. He rested his hands on his hips. Of all the subs in the room, he was probably the most forward. He took what he wanted by the balls and asked questions later. Unfortunately, that attitude also drove away most Doms. Damn it.

One of the bigger Doms, Zane if Rocke remembered his name right, stood at the perimeter of the main playroom. He’d suit what Rocke wanted—well mostly. There was only one of him, and Rocke liked to play with at least two Doms. Call him greedy, but he loved to have all his holes filled. He straightened his shoulders and marched up to Zane.

I’m in the market for a man. You look like my type, Rocke said. He hoped he sounded more confident and less like a dick than he assumed he did. Think we could strike up a bargain?

Zane folded his arms. He crooked one eyebrow but didn’t say a word. If Rocke wasn’t mistaken, the man snorted. Shit. This was what always happened. He put himself out there, trying to get what he wanted, and people didn’t like it. Rocke pushed a tiny bit of frustration aside. Never let them see you sweat.

So? I don’t see a sub. Rocke flexed as he moved in an attempt to show off his goods. I’m free. You’re free. Come on.

Eight years playing pro baseball helped to keep him in shape. If he were on the baseball diamond, he’d be fine. On his own, he sucked. Social graces were not his forte. What do you say?

You’re new here, aren’t you? Zane growled.

Yes. Rocke grinned. He wasn’t about to lose his cool. I’m Rocke Houseman. I play... His smile faltered when Zane’s expression didn’t soften. Played baseball. Fuck it. Might as well put himself out there. I’m told you’re the man to have. I get my way, and you’re what I want. How ‘bout it? Christ, he sounded like a dick.

No. Zane wrapped his hand around the back of Rocke’s neck. Not the tender touch of a Dom about to take him under his wing. No, this was more of a dismissive gesture. "You’re not my type, but I swear you’re Carson and Jeremiah’s type. They’d be better for you—if they select you."

Not your type? I saw you with Ford Gehrig last night. We’re practically twins. Come on, Rocke pleaded. He didn’t want to be dismissed again. All his life, he’d worked to make the cut, and unless baseball was involved, he didn’t meet requirements. First, his folks had kicked him out for being gay then his longtime lover had packed up because he hated celebrities— Christ, Rocke had barely spent time in the limelight until the damn injury. Then there had been the revolving door of Doms at Desire. They hated how he unintentionally topped from the bottom.

You came here to play. Carson and Jeremiah will play. Zane directed Rocke to the back of the room where two men waited. He’s all yours.

Rocke thought better of arguing. He hadn’t been chosen. Again. He sighed and allowed Jeremiah and Carson to lead him from the room. Each man wrapped an arm around him. He bit back his anger. What was it about him that drove people away?

The two men—he wasn’t sure who was Jeremiah and who was Carson—took him down a long hallway to a room. When the taller one opened the door, bright white light spilled into the darkened corridor.

This is our room. First we talk then we play. Do you think you’re able to keep up with us? The shorter of the two men leveled his gaze at Rocke. He stood only about an inch shorter than Rocke’s six foot frame. His jaw flexed as he stared at Rocke, and a tiny bit of scruff glimmered on his cheeks.

At this point, Rocke didn’t have anything to lose. He’d been pushed away by all but the last two Doms in the building. Rocke sighed and dipped his head. I’d like to play.

Very well. The taller one ushered him into the room. Unlike the other rooms, this particular room more resembled a bedroom. No BDSM bed or bar contraptions. There was just a plain bed with white sheets. Thick carpet muffled their footsteps as the Doms led him to a leather couch and armchair. The room reminded him more of an apartment than a play place.  

Before we get down to business, my name is Carson. The taller one extended his hand. This is my partner, Jeremiah. We’ve been together for eight years. We don’t take many subs, and when we do, it’s only one at a time. You are Rocke Houseman, correct? Sit.

Something in Carson’s voice made Rocke