Author: Sage Marlowe
Publisher: Me and the Muse Publishing
Release Date: November 13, 2015
Genre: Contemporary BDSM M/M Romance
Putting a leash on a dominant sub is a task that may require two Doms to accomplish.
When relocation agent Eric Swann is assigned to ease young Connor Prescott into moving back to London, he expects the boy to be more enthusiastic—and less irritating.
Used to roaming freely among his mother’s D-list celebrity friends, Connor is anything but happy when his father decides to put him on a leash—a leash with a far too attractive handler on the other end. Secretly craving a man who knows how to yank his chain and show him exactly where the limits are, Connor does what he’s best at. He manipulates Eric into giving him what he wants, making the man reveal a side of him that Eric himself isn’t ready to accept.
Trained by one of the quirkiest Dom/sub-teams in the country, Dom Tyler Kane knows exactly how to handle a toppy sub. He keeps Connor on his toes, er, knees, in the bedroom, but when his capricious lover sets his heart on pushing yet another limit, Tyler finds himself not only with a dominant sub but also with a Dom who has yet to accept his true identity.
Reader Advisory: Due to sexually explicit content this book is intended for adult readers only. Contains scenes in which the main characters are sexually involved with secondary characters and vivid descriptions of unusual sexual practices.
While this book can be read as a standalone novel, it is best enjoyed as part of the series in order of release (Sub-Mission, Re-Submission, Sub-Culture, Sub-Dominant)
Excerpt - Chapter 1
Eric ushered his guest inside, then he indicated for him to sit in the visitor’s chair. “So what’s this mysterious assignment you’ve been dying to tell me about?”
Tom grinned. “Ah, Eric, you always cut right to the chase.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Whatever happened to chitchat and offering a visitor drinks and all that?”
Eric sat in the chair behind his desk. He put his elbows on the polished wood in front of him, rested his fingertips against one another and looked at the man he’d known since their school days. “I’m pretty sure you’ve had your chitchat with Rebecca before she announced you were here and knowing her, she’s going to walk through that door with your mug of cinnamon-flavoured café latte right about...now.”
There was a soft knock on the door then it opened and in came Rebecca, Eric’s assistant, carrying a tray with two mugs and a plate of biscuits. She smiled, put the goodies on the table and left after a quick glance at Eric to check whether he needed anything.
Eric flashed a smile. “See? We know how to spoil our guests here at Swann Relocation.”
“I never doubted that, Tiger, and that’s exactly the reason why I’m here.”
Eric let his doubtful frown show over the rim of his coffee mug. “Uh-huh. Drop the smarmy act, Tommy. What do you want me to do for you?”
Tom chuckled. “It’s not about what you can do for me, it’s about what I can do for you.”
Faking a yawn, Eric swivelled his chair to look out the window.
“Okay, okay. Listen. I was approached with an assignment that I think you’d be thrilled to hear about.”
“Uh-huh.” Eric cocked an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. “Tell me why that is.”
“Because it’s perfect for you. You’re the man for this job. And when you’ve come to realise that, too, you’re going to thank me.”
“Tom! Tell me what it’s about now, will you? Or do I have to ask Rebecca to walk you out?”
Tom’s smile widened. “Well, it’s quite simple.” He paused for effect. “You’ll get paid a ridiculous amount of money to locate a new home for your client and help him find his way around town for three months. That doesn’t sound like a bad job, does it?”
“No, that doesn’t sound bad at all. But why don’t you do it yourself if it’s such a fantastic job?”
Tom shrugged and bit off a chunk of his chocolate biscuit. “They need someone this side of the Atlantic”, he explained, chewing.
Watching Tom, Eric tried to figure out what the man wasn’t saying. He was a nice guy and a good friend, but he was also a little weasel that had the uncanny ability to sniff a good business opportunity before anybody else did.
“You know this side of the Atlantic very well. You could easily do it. Besides, this client approached you, and you know how I feel about passing them on from one agent to the next.”
Tom sighed. He licked his fingers then washed down his biscuit with some café latte. “I know, I know, and I would love to take on this assignment myself, but I don’t really want to spend three months away from home.”
“It’s... Well, I’m seeing someone. It’s still fresh, but at this stage, being away for so long would probably be the end before it’s even started.”
Eric smiled. Tom wasn’t too lucky in his choices of potential partners, but that didn’t keep him from trying to find the future Mrs Ketten again and again. “Okay, fair enough, but something tells me there’s still more to this than you’re letting on, so why don’t you just spill the beans now?”
Tom rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re not easy to please, dear boy. I’m offering you a well-paid assignment. Don’t you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth?”
Eric gave a shrug. “In fact, I don’t. I’m not keen on paying the vet’s bill, you know, so I make sure to look a nag not only in the mouth. I also check its feet and take it for a ride.”
“Fine. Thing is, our client wants the relocation agent to keep an eye on his son, too. Make sure he doesn’t skip classes, stays out of trouble and doesn’t fall in with the wrong crowd—that sort of thing.”
“What? He doesn’t want a relocation agent, he wants a fucking babysitter! How old is this son we’re talking about? Does he have to be taken to playgroup, too? I hope your client doesn’t expect you to change the kid’s nappies or give him his milk.”
Tom smacked his hand on the desk in front of him. “Oh, stop being a fusspot, Eric! Connor’s turned eighteen last September.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Your mission, Eric, should you choose to accept it, mainly consists of making sure the kid’s ass is in bed at night. In the right bed, at a reasonable time.” His eyes glittered. “You might be interested to hear that this is a distinctly cute ass we’re talking about.”
Eric sucked in a sharp breath. “You know I don’t mix business and pleasure and apart from that, at eighteen, he’s quite a bit too young for me, don’t you think?”
Tom shrugged. “You’re only eight years his senior and I’m not saying you should put him into your bed. I’m just saying he’s hot. Seriously hot. It won’t hurt you to get an eyeful of pretty boy while you’re doing your job. And as for his age—he may be young, but he’s legal, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“I don’t need to worry about that because I have no intention of getting involved with him.”
“Yeah, I know, Mr Proper. He has probably no intention of getting involved with you either.”
Eric groaned and rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think that?”
“From what I’ve heard, he’s supposed to be straight. But hey, maybe you can bend him a little. Seems to me you don’t need to worry about his virtue either. Apparently there isn’t much left.” Tom waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eric didn’t like the expression in Tom’s eyes. In his experience, that particular gleam always meant trouble.
“There’s a rumour that he was about to start a rather promising career in the film industry—and I’m not talking Hollywood—but Daddy dearest got wind of it and now he has to return to Olde England to go to university and finish his degree like the good little boy he ought to be.”
“Somehow I get the feeling these films had nothing to do with a bunch of girls crying over a romantic hero,” Eric said.
Tom gave him a dirty grin. “Well, let’s say it was the kind of film where a bunch of girls cry out for the hero and it wasn’t so much romance as hard core porn.”
“Have you seen it?”
“Nope. It doesn’t appear to be available on the market. At least not that I could’ve tracked it down. My guess is Daddy dearest has either bought all the copies or he’s had them destroyed. Or both.”
“So I’m supposed to babysit a prodigal son who would much rather spend his time fucking around in front of a camera than go to university.” Eric sneered. “I’m not dumb, Tom. This kid spells trouble and you know it. That’s why you want to reassign him to me, not because you’ve lost your heart to some blonde bimbo with big tits and three brain cells. Why don’t you just tell your client to go find someone else if you don’t want the job?”
Tom sighed. “The contract is signed and sealed. Ricky, we’re talking about Corbin Prescott, the founder of Prescott Acquisitions, here. The man is loaded, and his company has branches in the UK and the US with employees moving from one continent to the other all the time. If we play this right, there could be a lot more business coming our way. This assignment may be a pain in the ass, but it’s worth grinding your teeth. You have to look at the big picture.”
Eric laughed out loud. “I’m supposed to grind my teeth because you’re looking at the big picture? Come on, Tommy. You should know me better than that.”
Defeat flashed in Tom’s eyes. “Fine. What are your terms?”
“To take the boy off your hands and play nice with Daddy Prescott?”
“How much money are we talking about?”
“The usual fee for the VIP-package plus fifty percent extra for dragging the kid around town and making sure he stays on track until he’s settled in.”
“I want ninety percent of the fee plus the full bonus,” Eric said.
“Jesus, Eric. That’s—”
“Only fair and you know it. Oh, and for your ten percent, you’re going to take care of things your side of the ocean.”
Eric smiled. “Eight? That’s sweet of you, but you know, I’m still not so sure I should accept it. Even with the bonus, and even assuming the boy is going to behave, it’s going to eat up a lot of my time.”
Tom rolled his eyes and raised his hands. “When have you become so pragmatic, Eric? Think about the money. Three months and you can take the rest of the year off if you want. And there’s still the chance you get a personal bonus out of it.”
“I. Don’t. Fuck. My. Clients. Besides, I prefer my men a bit more mature. An eighteen-year old twink just doesn’t do it for me.”
“Seven percent for me and I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” Tom grinned and Eric heaved a sigh. The man knew far too well how to push his buttons.
Meet Sage Marlowe
Sage is a multi-published, international bestselling author of gay erotic romance novels and novellas and loves exploring the flavours of gay erotic fiction.
A willing slave to all the fascinating guys who keep queuing up and want their stories told, Sage can almost always be found cooking up the next hot story or daydreaming about new ways of rubbing sexy male bodies together to make the sparks fly. e-mail: email@example.com
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