Making It Sizzle: A Gay Romance

By Luke Jameson and Ian O. Lewis

“Me, settle down? No way, professor. But, if you want the best night of your life, I’m right next door.”

Landon Smith has a problem. He’s socially awkward, prefers coding over cocktails, and occasionally wears mismatched socks. His life is full, working as an adjunct professor at the local college, and volunteering as a tutor for underprivileged youths. Then his worst nightmare moves in next door to him, a macho ex-marine who just won’t leave him alone. They have nothing in common until the brawny man begs Landon to tutor him. He agrees, but only after Angel promises to keep his paws to himself.
Angel Perez is the devil, or at least that’s what Landon thinks. But, there’s something about how he fills his skin-tight jeans that Landon can’t get out of his head. And to make matters worse, he’s feeling emotions he never has before. The domineering man is determined to claim Landon, who is terrified of giving in to his urges. 

Confession time. The authors are wild about tropes, especially opposites attract. So what’s hotter than a geeky professor falling for a hunky ex-military guy? Nothing. Making it Sizzle is the third book in the Making It Series. Oh, and you might need oven mitts to hold your ereader, it’s that freaking hot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cruz Publishing
• Release date: Mar 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9791222086668

Book preview

Prologue

Angel

You were yummy.

The man I’d picked up last night pulled his t-shirt over his head, then buttoned his jeans with a smile. He was just my type, though I couldn’t remember his name. I’d called him green eyes all night and hoped he didn’t realize my memory lapse. He was younger than me and studied at the FBI academy, which was next door to my former headquarters on the marine base at Quantico.

Normally I don’t sleep around. Green eyes blushed, then tightened his belt. Is there any chance we can do this again?

I sighed, then slid on a pair of shorts. Guys hated hearing the truth, which was that I didn’t want more than one night with anyone. Relationships were complicated, and life was too short.

I don’t know if I mentioned this last night, but there’s a reason for all the boxes. I pointed at my dresser, which had several packed boxes stacked on top of it. Tomorrow I’m moving out of town, so maybe we should just…

I knew it. Green eyes muttered, then sat on the edge of the bed and slid his shoes on. Whenever I— A knock at my front door cut off what was probably going to be a pity party. He stood up, then grabbed me by the shoulders. I froze, wondering what the dude’s problem was.

My name is Mick, not green eyes. 

He let go of me, then stomped out of the bedroom, making a beeline for the front door. When he opened it, my father stood there holding a stack of cardboard boxes. Green eyes rushed out, pushing Dad to the side. When he got down the steps, he glanced up and saw the two of us staring down at him, then flipped us the bird. Dad and I locked eyes with each other, then we burst into laughter. 

Jesus, Angel. Dad gave me the flattened cardboard boxes and stepped into my apartment. Don’t you ever feel sorry for these guys? Why don’t you try going on a date with someone for a change, instead of just fucking? You might end up liking one of them. Dad scratched the back of his neck. Nothing wrong with just screwing around, but you’ve been alone for far too long. Your mother worries about you.

Mom was a saint. She worked as a lawyer for a non-profit in DC. Dad, on the other hand, was where I got my foul mouth and confidence. He was tall, super hairy, and had thick bushy eyebrows that defied gravity.

Ah, that’s where you are wrong, Dad. If I only sleep with them once, I have wonderful memories for my spank bank. Getting to know them means learning their flaws, and life is too fucking short for that. I tossed the empty boxes on the floor next to the beat-up red couch where Dad sat.

For the first time in twenty years, I can do whatever the hell I want. I said, then a car horn blared from the street below, a rarity in this small town. Dad turned on the couch and glanced out the window, then back toward me. I don’t know how you get these assholes to fall for you so fast, but that dude is downstairs in his car, crying like a baby.

My stomach clenched, and I shrugged my shoulders. He’s a big boy. What am I supposed to do about it? I told him last night this was a one-time thing. I snatched a tattered throw pillow off the couch and tossed it into a garbage bag. Plus, I’m moving tomorrow. He got off, I got off, and one day his prince will come.

Yeah, in his mouth. Dad cracked, his deep voice sounding like he’d gargled with gravel.

Jesus, Dad. How does Mom put up with you? I picked up a throw pillow and hit him over the head with it. He laughed, then ran his fingers through his grey crewcut.

Wish I could have a chance with even a quarter of the guys you bang. Well, I mean with chicks. Dad sighed, then looked out the window again. But your mom would crucify me. Oh, the fucking crybaby is leaving now.

The tiny knot in my stomach unraveled just a bit. Despite my policy of no-strings-attached sex, I hated hurting anyone. 

So, what did the doctor say? Dad asked, his thick eyebrows drawing together. You know, about your moving?

Well, that came out of nowhere. I sighed. He gave me a clean bill of health and then ordered me to live the fullest life possible. I grinned. So stop worrying about me.

You are moving two hours away to Richmond of all places, when all of your buddies are up here at Quantico. Of course I’m going to worry, especially after…

I cut my father off before he could go any further. I got lucky. Really fucking lucky, and neither you nor I can predict the future. So, I’m going to live each day like it is my last, and for me that means moving somewhere I can afford. If I stayed up here in Northern Virginia, I’d be eating ramen noodles three times a day and sleeping in my car. 

No, you wouldn’t. You’d move back into your old bedroom next door to your other loser brothers. Dad laughed. My two older brothers were both recently divorced and broke. There was no way I’d want to join them for a family reunion. I lifted a cardboard box from the sofa next to Dad and sat down. I’ve got full retirement from the Marines, and in Richmond I can afford to take my time and figure out what my next move is going to be.

Nah. I bet you’ve run through all the available dudes in Northern Virginia. You just want a fresh batch of dicks. Dad winked.

For fuck’s sake, Dad. I shook my head and laughed. My father had the foulest mouth, and an uncensored view of the world. He’d never had a problem with me being gay. In fact, he loved it, because he could make filthy jokes at my expense. 

Dad was a former officer at Quantico, and he’d never fully recovered from being in the Marines. He retired and now owned an ice-cream shop half a mile from the base. Dad had a love/hate relationship with the service, like just about everyone did. We’d thrown an enormous party for him when he retired, complete with exhausted-looking strippers, which Mom hated. At the time Dad seemed relieved to be stepping down from his post, but instead of moving back home to Texas, or somewhere else to start a new life, my father stayed on and constantly reminisced about the past. He refused to let go, but I wasn’t about to make what I considered the same mistake.

I’d served my twenty years and was retiring with full benefits before I was forty. My goal was to live life to its fullest while I could. This meant going back to school and doing all the things I’d fantasized about, but couldn’t do because I was in the service.

Do you have a doctor there you can trust? Dad sighed. He was acting more like my father than a friend, which rarely occurred.

Yes. I already have an appointment at the VA hospital for next week. I promise I’ll keep it, and…

Dad abruptly rose from the couch and opened his arms. I stepped into his embrace and held him tight. Sorry, but I worry about you, Angel. My father murmured, then I felt his shoulders tremble. Shit, if Dad started blubbering, I’d be through. 

I’ve got to go. Dad backed out of my embrace and swiped at his eyes. I suck at goodbyes, so... um, this is it. Now have fun with all the other fudge packers in Richmond.

Thanks for everything, Dad. I wouldn’t have survived the Marines without you. 

His mouth opened, then he shook his head and quietly let himself out. When the door shut, I sank onto the couch and put my face in my hands.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but at least I’m not sticking around here. I glanced around the tiny living room. It had been my home for the last seven years, and had never been much more than a place to sleep, eat, and fuck the occasional trick. Wish I was going to miss it here, but I’ve got too much living to do. I want to be an artist, or maybe one of those computer geeks who make all the money.

I rose from the couch and looked out the window. Quantico, Virginia was a tiny town where nothing happened, despite being next to one of the largest military bases in the world. It was like living in a separate universe, one that most people never saw. Time was different here and highly regimented. I wanted to know what it was like to not use an alarm clock, to feel free after twenty years of sucking up to my superiors. Though I was a damned good soldier, the need to change was overwhelming.

Fun. I sighed. That’s what I want more than anything else.

I picked up my phone from the coffee table and clicked onto a dating app, then searched for men in Richmond. Hundreds of profiles appeared, and a smile split my face. These men were about to have the time of their lives.

You’re going to love me, Richmond. I promise.

Chapter One

Landon

How did your date with Gilman go? Jolene asked. She was my best friend and taught drawing at VCU. Her office and studio were only a block away from mine, so we spent most of our breaks together. She also liked to think of herself as a matchmaker. Ever since she got hitched last May she’d been on a mission to marry off all of her friends. The problem was, she really sucked at it. 

No spark. The guy was more interested in molesting me than watching the symphony. Gilman was an attractive man in his late twenties, but he’d been all hands. The philistine had been visibly disappointed when I presented him with tickets to a performance of Ravel’s Bolero, possibly the sexiest piece of music ever composed. As soon as the lights went down in the theater, his hand creeped over the armrest and into my lap. 

I kind of thought you two would work out. He’s a huge gamer, and I wondered if… Jolene began, but I cut her off before she could tell me more about how wonderful that loser was.

Don’t set me up on any more dates.

Jolene stopped in her tracks, grabbed my wrist and spun me around to face her. You have so much to offer someone. Landon, you’re possibly the smartest guy I know. Not only that, you…

I don’t want to offer anyone anything. I sighed, then took my glasses off, pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of my cardigan and began cleaning them.

For God’s sake, Landon, get contact lenses. Do you understand how stunning your blue eyes are? Jolene sighed, shaking her head. Not only that, you don’t even work out and you eat like a horse, yet don’t have an ounce of body fat. Seriously, you are one of the hottest men that I know, but you don’t seem to care.

I don’t. Plus, I hate sticking things in my eyes. I knew Jolene meant well, but every man she’d set me up with turned out to be the complete opposite of what I considered a great time. All they wanted was sex. Nothing wrong with that, but I wanted more than a quick tumble between the sheets. In my twenties, I was what I referred to as a gentleman of easy virtue, otherwise known as promiscuous, but now I was in my thirties, and sex was boring unless there was a more intimate connection. If I didn’t at least like the guy, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d sleep with him.

I put my glasses back on, and Jolene’s pale face came into focus. One red eyebrow was reaching for her hairline, and I noticed a black smudge on her chin, probably from the charcoals she used to teach drawing with. Fine. I won’t set you up on any more dates. She said. But at least let me take you shopping for some new clothes. I mean, you’ve been sporting that same orange cardigan since we first met ten years ago. Oh, and you’re wearing one green sock and a blue one.

I glanced down