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Rock, Rig and Dick are living it up at the beach in this installment of the Jarheads series. Dick and Rock's gym business is going well, Dick has gone back to school, and Rig's PA practice is working just the way he wants it to.
The only problem is that Rig just doesn't have the energy he used to, and he's not feeling great. He's worried that something might be dreadfully wrong, and he's afraid to have to tell his men about it.
Rock and Dick try everything they can think of to cheer Rig up, but even a vacation can't fix what's wrong. Months of pain and silence finally lead to Rig going to a doctor, but can he recover from being so sick for so long? And can he manage to get healthy again with two ex-marines watching his every move?
Read about Rig, Rock and Dick's adventures in Sean Michael's popular Jarheads series, including Three Day Passes, Tempering, and Out of the Closet.
Excerpt:
Sun.
Surf.
His rock.
The only thing that would make it better would be another cold beer, but Rig wasn't in the mood to move. Nope. He was in full basking-lizard mode. Well, trying to be. If the wind didn't blow he could forget it was just an incredibly warm day.
He let one foot dangle down into the water, the touch cool and comfortable, almost chilly.
Yep. He was a lucky motherfucking redneck.
A shadow blocked the sun, and something wet and warm slid along his exposed collarbone. "Mmm... sweaty cowboy. My favorite kind."
"Mmm. Blue." His own growly stud, right there. Life was good.
"I've got a thing or two for you." Rock's tongue slid up along his neck, circled the skin just below his ear.
"I. Uh. What?" He got a little side-tracked. Well, more than a little.
"They're kind of the same shape. Both hard. One's hot, the other's cold." Rock nipped his earlobe.
"Hard." Rig liked hard. He tilted his head, encouraging his big, studly ex-marine to keep going.
Those warm lips slid down his neck again and along his shoulder, tongue licking, wetting his skin. "Both hard. Here's the cold one." The bottom end of a beer bottle landed on an exposed strip of his belly, making him jump.
"Fuck!" He hooted, grabbing for the longneck. Oh, fuck yes. Beer.
Beer. Beer. Beer.
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