Lancer Phillips was very aware that his occupation was right up there with every other macho occupation that was filled with bigotry and prejudices. Firemen, cops, most sports, politics. He was aware. But his occupation was worse, at least as far as Lancer was concerned. Because his occupation was filled with small, on occasion, effeminate men. Jockeys. It was required and sought after, to be small and light weight. Lancer was one of the smallest circuit jockeys, at only 5’2” and weighing 110 pounds soaking wet. But that made him popular with the race horse owners.
Sometimes, too popular, especially with the female owners. He was ‘cute’ to them. So they swung from lavishing gifts on him, to outright propositioning him. Lancer would politely decline both. His interest lie elsewhere, not that anyone knew that. Or ever would. He’d had enough of that kind of trouble in the past.
But Lancer was lonely. Had been for some time. Since high school really. It wasn’t as if he had the opportunity to do anything about it either. Lancer was sure he was as familiar with the paparazzi as any Hollywood star. And they were ruthless. Especially Craig Johanson, lead reporter for the local rag.
It wouldn’t bother Lancer so much, but, Goddamn, Craig was a walking wet dream. He was also the most conniving, egotistical, self-centered, hypocritical, homophobic asshole on the face of the earth. Lancer hated the guy, with passion. And yet, Lancer had to struggle with a different kind of passion every time he laid eyes on the man. Talk about your irony.
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Craig Johanson loved his job. And hated it. Loved the excitement, the intrigue and the satisfaction in bringing the truth to the masses. Hated it, because the object of his current fascination and lust was just an assignment. Craig followed Lancer Phillips around like any red blooded paparazzi. Taking pictures, watching his every move. It wasn’t work really. He would have done it for free. Lancer was that gorgeous, and damn sexy too. But, just like anyone else getting attention from the likes of him, Lancer was belligerent, unkind, snobbish and an all-around jerk.
And Craig was smitten. A lot of good that did him. Craig had seen more women on that man’s arm then he cared to know about. So that reduced Lancer to eye candy. At least as far as Craig was concerned anyway. And he was not in the habit of turning straight guys to the dark side. Especially since no one knew he pitched for that team. He would be the laughing stock of the media community. Been there…done that. Wasn’t going to do it again.
But it didn’t stop his growing attraction for one very stunning horse rider. So he did what he did best, which was staying glued to the very public image of Lancer Phillips, the jockey, while investigating the very private and reclusive life of Lancer Phillips, the man.
WARNING: Content may be objectionable to some readers. M/M sexual practices, violence, vague permission, sexual content, adult language.
This one throws a wonderfully different kind of hero into the mix - love this kind of thing. :)
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