Handcuffs and Megabytes

Handcuffs and Megabytes A Rawlings Men Story

By Kim Dare

Resplendence Publishing, LLC http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC 2665 S Atlantic Avenue, #349 Daytona Beach, FL 32176 Handcuffs and Megabytes Copyright © 2011, Kim Dare Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Jason Huffman Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-285-3

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: April 2011

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.

To the good pictures.

Chapter One

“What do you think?” “I think,” Mike Shane said, as he slowly took in the view before him, “that I must have done something really bad in a previous life.” Another sweep of the chaos visible through the glass partition separating the computer crimes task force from the hallway, proved his first analysis of the situation to be correct. “I’m in hell.” Alasdair Grant chuckled. Mike gave him a dirty look out of the corner of his eye, but that just made the other man laugh all the more. “I’m not sure what I’m dreading more,” Mike muttered. “Being surrounded by computers all day, or having to deal with all the damn computer geeks!” “Hey, we’re not all bad!” Mike looked over his shoulder. Leather. That first detail hit him so hard, it was several seconds before any other facts about the man leaning against the wall a few yards down the corridor registered in his mind. The guy had to be wearing the tightest pair of leather trousers ever created. He must have melted himself down and bloody well poured himself into them. They clung to him like a first skin, but whatever effort it had taken to squirm and wriggle them on that morning, it had definitely been worth it. Very slowly, Mike dragged his eyes up the other man’s body, over a tight black vest and brightly tattooed arms, until he reached the bluest pair of eyes he’d ever seen—eyes that, for some reason beyond his comprehension, someone had framed by heavy black lines. Mike frowned. He pulled back his focus. Other features registered. Spiky black hair. An over abundance of silver jewelry hanging from more piercings than any person should be

allowed to inflict on themselves. A heavy silver chain encircled his neck, fastened in place by a padlock. A pair of smiling lips, complete with what looked suspiciously like black tinted lipstick, finished off the look. Mike’s frown deepened. “What the hell—?” The goth stepped forward and closed the gap between them, only to completely ignore Mike in favor of extending his hand towards Alasdair. He had tattoos across his knuckles too. Those on his right hand spelt out l-o-s-t. “It’s great to see you again,” the boy said. “Hi Carl,” Alasdair said, with a nod. Mike looked from the perfectly sane looking police officer standing to one side of him, to the vampire wannabe on the other, then back again. “You know him?” Alasdair grinned. “Mike Shane, meet Carl Rawlings.” Rawlings… Mike looked the other man up and down once more before focusing in on his face. He had the Rawlings build, strong and broad shouldered. If someone took the trouble to peer past the window dressing, perhaps there was some sort of facial family resemblance to all the other Rawlings men he knew, too. “You’re a cop?” he demanded incredulously. Carl’s lips twisted into a smile. A hint of perfect white teeth appeared between the black lips. His eyes danced with humor. “What’s wrong, Mike? Never met a computer geek before?” Carl stepped past him, showing off just how fantastic his arse looked encased in those trousers. Halfway down the corridor, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. He winked before disappearing into a side room. Mike stared after him, half in bemusement, half in something approaching horror. Suddenly he felt very, very old. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty-five at the most. That gave Mike a good twenty year head start on him. And he was dressed up like he was heading for a costume party. And the Rawlings guys had always struck him as being far more trouble than any man could ever be worth. And it was guys like Carl who gave men who wore leather a bad name and… And Mike’s cock didn’t give a damn about any of that. He continued to glare down the corridor after the guy. And the silver chain that had been hanging around Carl’s neck could well be a collar. Even if Mike’s cock didn’t care about that, the rest of him bloody well did.

“Earth to Mike Shane. Are you receiving?” Suddenly, his view along the hallway was rudely interrupted by Alasdair’s hand waving up and down in front of his face. Mike spun around the face him. “What?” “We’re up,” Alasdair said, nodding toward the office door at the other end of the corridor. Mike’s frown deepened as brain cells fired back into life. Office. Assignments. Bloody annoying order to work with the computer crimes task force. “Yeah, right,” he muttered. Following Alasdair into the office of the chief inspector in charge of the unit, Mike sat down in one of the seats facing the desk and dutifully looked as if he was paying attention. Meanwhile, his mind replayed every moment he’d spent with Carl Rawlings in the corridor. It really had looked like a collar, but it was never possible to tell what was what with the gothic ones. It was all fashion and no substance with them. Any real dominant would have to be a fool to get involved with a boy like that. And Carl was little more than a boy in the non-kinky sense of the word too. Mike held back a sigh as the chief inspector droned on about modern policing and the wonderful technological innovations that were going to drag the force kicking and screaming into the new decade. Mike had no intention of being dragged anywhere. If anyone was stupid enough to try to do it, they were going to quickly find out that he wasn’t the type to kick and scream. No, as far as he was concerned, dirty tactics and an elbow where it hurt most would be much more appropriate in that particular situation. Alasdair and the inspector both stood up. Mike did the same. When the inspector held out a hand, Mike shook it. When Alasdair walked out of the office, Mike followed. “Did you listen to a word he said?” Alasdair asked. Mike held back a sigh. “Want to give me the highlights?” Alasdair’s smile turned into a grin. “You’ve got Carl.” “What?” “You’re going to be working with Carl Rawlings for the rest of the day,” Alasdair said. “Apparently, since we’re down here anyway, he’s going to show us the ropes and get us up to date on all the new software he’s developed for…” He trailed off as Mike let out a string of curses only to speak up again when Mike ran out of breath. “If you’re very nice to him he might show you all his piercings and get you up to date on his latest tattoos as well.”

Mike glared at him. Alasdair had really come out of his shell since he started dating Harland Rawlings. Right then, Mike was pretty sure he preferred Alasdair in his shell. “He’s in the third office on the left,” the other man informed him, humor still dancing in his voice. “What about you?” Mike demanded. “I get that particular pleasure later in the week. He’s all yours today.” “Thanks,” Mike muttered, turning on his heel. “And Mike?” Alasdair called after him. Mike turned and glared back along the corridor. “What?” “He’s bi.” Not able to think of any answer that was either polite or which would be able to conceal how grateful at least part of him was to receive that particular bit of information, Mike said nothing as he pushed open the third door on his left and stormed inside. Mike had barely gone two paces before he had to stop short. It was either that or stride straight into Carl. Big blue eyes blinked up at him as they opened very wide with shock but, even as Mike watched, the expression in them became more and more amused. “Careful, sergeant. The room’s really not designed for stomping about in.” Mike dragged his attention away from the other man’s eyes and looked around the…office seemed to be too big a word for it. “What is this, a bloody broom cupboard?” Mike demanded. “It’s not much, but its home,” Carl said with a lopsided little smile. He wasn’t stepping back. Hell, there wasn’t actually room for him to step back without crashing into one of the dozens of pieces of computer equipment that had been crammed in there. “We’re both supposed to work in here?” Mike said, not quite able to conceal his dismay. Carl chuckled. “I don’t mind being cozy if you don’t.” “Well, I bloody well do!” Mike snapped. Carl shrugged. “Suit yourself. But being pissy about it won’t actually make the room any bigger.” He retreated half a step and sat down in a luxurious high backed office chair. Spinning it around, he turned his attention to one of the computer screens as if Mike wasn’t even there. The little brat!

Mike slammed the door and glared around the cramped little space. There was only one other chair in there—a clapped out little thing that looked like it might well break if anyone Mike’s size were to try to sit on it. “I don’t do intimidated.” Mike frowned at the spikes of black hair just visible over the back of Carl’s chair. “What?” “If you think looming around like that is going to make me feel intimidated, don’t bother. You’re really not that scary, and you’re sure as hell not getting my chair. You can stay standing for all I care.” Mike absentmindedly cracked his knuckles as he lowered himself cautiously into the other chair. He wasn’t going to rise to the bait. He wasn’t going to stoop to the other man’s level either. Folding his arms across his chest he leaned back in the chair and silently counted to ten, then to twenty. He’d almost reached fifty and hadn’t succeeded in reigning in his annoyance in the slightest by the time Carl spoke. “So, exactly how much of a Neanderthal are you?” Mike glowered at him. Carl grinned back. A little flash of metal in his mouth hinted that there was a piercing through his tongue. It was damn near impossible for Mike not to wonder where else he might be pierced, or how that particular piercing might feel against his cock. “Come on, you can tell me,” the younger man coaxed, as he leaned forward in his chair. “Have you ever done anything more complicated than play solitaire on a computer, or should I be starting all the way back with how to switch the scary machine on?” “You can start,” Mike said, unconsciously echoing his pose and bringing their faces within an inch of touching. “By learning some damn manners.” Carl wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound like much fun. Any other ideas about what we could do to pass the time?” He leaned forward another fraction. The silver chain around his neck caught the light as it swayed away from his skin. Mike tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “Don’t you need someone’s permission before you start making offers like that?” he snapped. Carl blinked at him. “I don’t think the chief inspector really needs to know what we get up to on our coffee breaks.”

Mike’s fingers caught hold of the silver chain. Twisting it, he tightened the links around Carl’s throat and pulled the boy to the edge of his seat. “Don’t play games with me. I don’t have the patience for any of that bull. In the world I come from, a mark like this means something. Do you have a master or not?” Carl’s eyes opened very wide, showing off his eyeliner to perfection. Mike’s knuckles were pressed tightly against the boy’s wind pipe. He felt the movement of the younger man’s Adam’s apple as Carl swallowed. Still, he had to give the guy credit. Carl held his ground well, all things considered. “I know what it means to some guys,” Carl said. “But to me, it’s just a bit of silver jewelry.” Mike let go of the chain and wiped his hands on his trousers, as if it had become something dirty the moment those words hit the air. “Although, I haven’t ruled out that it could be more than a necklace at some point,” Carl mentioned casually, as he leaned back in his chair. Mike’s eyes snapped up. Their gazes met. “What?” “It just so happens that I’ve been doing some online research about the whole leather thing. Seems like it could be fun…” Mike sat back in his own chair, putting enough distance between them so that he was able to run his eyes up and down the other man’s entire body. The boy was stunning, and he obviously knew it. But that didn’t change certain facts. “You’d be laughed out of any serious leather club in the city if you turned up dressed like that.” He didn’t bother to mention any of the things that all the guys in the club would want to do to him before they threw him out. It wasn’t as if the boy was ever going to actually turn up on the doorstep of one anyway. Carl didn’t blush. He didn’t squirm in his seat like a nervous little kid. He laughed. Mike’s frown deepened. “I’m not talking about some stupid club,” Carl said. “I’m talking about here and now. Anyone with a brain could learn how to use the program I’m supposed to be teaching you about in half an hour and we’ve got the whole day. That gives us a hell of a lot of free time. So, I’ll ask again. Any ideas on how we could pass the time?”

Chapter Two

Carl Rawlings watched Mike’s gaze narrow, his eyebrows almost coming together as his forehead wrinkled. He couldn’t help but wonder what the other man would do if he told him he looked beautiful when he was angry. Carl was pretty sure it would be a reaction worth seeing. If the guy turned him over his knee and spanked him for his cheek, he was sure it would be a reaction worth feeling too. After several months of casual surfing through some very hot pictures on the internet, Mike Shane appeared to be just the kind of opportunity he’d been looking for. Carl smiled as the frown lines between the other man’s brows deepened even further making him look very serious, very pissed off with the whole world. “Don’t tempt me,” Mike muttered. “To do what?” Carl asked, unable to hide his curiosity. Mike looked him up and down. It would have been far easier to believe he was as unimpressed as he seemed to be trying to appear, if he hadn’t been sporting an erection that tented his oh-so sensible suit trousers. “The only thing I’d ever want to do with a brat like you, is bring you to heel and teach you some respect.” Carl looked the other guy over just as slowly as Mike had inspected him. “How would you do that?” Mike took a breath so deep that Carl saw his whole body move with it. He had a huge barrel chest and Carl’s hands itched to burrow beneath his shirt to stroke across his bare skin. A body that big, that strong, would feel great pressed against his back as the guy screwed him all the way into the mattress.

Carl peered around the little room, assessing it for possibilities. Screwed him into the wall? He could make do with an upright quickie if a mattress was completely out of the question. “Taming brats has never been one of my hobbies.” Carl smiled as he moved his tongue back and forth in his mouth, playing with his latest piercing. “Not up to the challenge?” “That’s enough, Carl.” Mike’s voice was noticeably different. His posture had changed too. He hadn’t exactly been slouching in his seat before, but now he was sitting on the edge of it, every muscle tensed, ready to spring into action at any moment and… And Carl wasn’t sure what Mike would do then. There was only one way to find out. He scooted forward until he was sitting on the foremost edge of his own chair too. Unable to think of anything to say right then, he remained silent and merely smiled, as if he knew he’d won. “Don’t push your—” Carl laughed, feeling more at ease than he had in months. The sound was cut off by a gasp as his back hit the filing cabinet set against the wall to his left. He stared up at Mike, completely enthralled as the other man held him there by a fistful of his vest. The guy was a huge bear of a man. Carl had known that. But he hadn’t realized that Mike would be able to jerk him out of his chair so easily. “I’m not having a good day,” Mike snarled, his lips just an inch away from Carl’s ear. “Come to that, I’m not having a good month. I’ve been working far too many cases far too late into the night to put up with any of your bull. Don’t push me.” It’s not all fun and games in the computer crimes unit either. Carl didn’t say it. That would mean inviting a return to reality that he wasn’t at all eager to face. “Don’t play games you don’t understand,” Mike warned. “Games?” Carl managed to say. “You mean, like role-play? I can do that.” “No,” Mike snapped as he suddenly pulled back, releasing his hold on Carl’s vest. “Not like—” The door swung open. Their bodies both froze in position as their faces turned toward it. Billy’s head appeared around the edge of the door. “Do you have a few minutes to help us out?” He looked back and forth between Carl and Mike as if he knew there was something going on, but he didn’t have a clue what. Sometimes the guy was so straight it was laughable. Finally he seemed to catch on. “If um…if you two are busy then…”

Carl swallowed rapidly. He shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He knew which case Billy was working on. The knowledge had killed both his mood and his erection so completely there was no way in hell he could have gone back to sparring with the other man anyway. Unable to even glance in Mike’s direction, he followed Billy out of the room. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone, okay?” he muttered as he closed the door behind him.

Mike leaned back in Carl’s chair and glared at the office door. The damn thing was entirely the wrong proportion for him. It might have been as comfortable as anything for Carl, but Mike already felt his back cramping after barely five minutes sitting in the contraption. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the edge of the desk. The constant whirring of the computers fans was giving him a headache. It was hot as hell in the little broom cupboard with every one running at full pelt. Standing up, Mike jerked open the door. He thought about retreating to the other chair, but that would have felt far too much like admitting defeat. Taking off his jacket and rolling back his shirt sleeves in an effort not to overheat, he sat back down in Carl’s chair and mentally rehearsed what he was going to say to the little brat—what he was going to do to the brat when he came back. For just a few moments, Mike let himself fantasize about what he’d like to do, in a world with no repercussions and no tomorrows or workplace misconduct tribunals to face. It was a close run contest between spanking Carl and screwing him. It didn’t take long for Mike to realize that any truly satisfying fantasy would have to involve a great deal of both. He could so easily picture Carl’s arse— Rushing past the open office door? Mike lurched to his feet. He stepped into the corridor just in time to see Carl disappear into the gents’ toilets. Frowning, Mike stormed along the hallway after him. If Carl thought he was going to be allowed to wind him up, put him on edge, then sneak away to jack off in the gents’ room while Mike sat frustrated in the office, the boy was about to have another thought coming.

Mike pushed open the door. There was no one in sight. He nudged open the door leading into the first stall. No one. Mike paused. The canteen food was obviously as bad as ever. It sounded like someone was throwing up in the last stall, poor sod. Mike was only halfway down the row and had yet to find one that was occupied when the last door jerked open and Carl stepped out. He walked across to the row of sinks on the far side of the room and rinsed out his mouth without even glancing in Mike’s direction. It wasn’t until Carl looked into the mirror over the basins that Mike was able to see how badly the boy’s eyeliner was smudged. “What the hell happened?” Carl jumped. He spun around to face Mike, only to quickly turn his back on him and stare down into one of the sinks. “Nothing. I’m fine.” “No, you’re not.” Catching hold of his arm, Mike dragged the other man around to face him. Carl pulled irritably at his grip on him, but he made no real attempt to get away. “It’s nothing. I guess last night’s vodkas finally caught up with me and—” “Bollocks.” Carl seemed to have developed a fascination with the floor between his feet, as if grubby grey tiles were some fantastic work of art. “Is this down to the vodka too?” Mike asked, swiping at the trace of liner that a tear had tracked down Carl’s cheek. The boy shrugged. “Damn stuff is always smudging—” Mike took hold of Carl’s chin and made the boy look up to meet his eyes properly. It had never occurred to him that he could be so horrified at the possibility of anyone upsetting another man after such a short acquaintance. All logic aside, Mike felt the anger bubbling inside him, ready to explode the moment it locked onto an appropriate target. A touch of color made its way to Carl’s cheeks. It made him look a damn sight healthier than he had when he walked, ghostly white, out of the stall. “The case Billy’s working on,” he finally muttered. “I mean… The cases about kids… Sometimes they get to me…” The look in his eyes told Mike everything else he needed to know about what kind of case he was talking about. Computer crimes… Of course, it wasn’t all white collar stuff anymore.

“Don’t tell anyone?” Carl asked. Mike stared down at the other man for several long moments. “Barely more than a kid yourself,” he muttered. Carl looked far more like a lost little boy than a brat as Mike absentmindedly wiped away another smudge of liner from his other cheek. If none of his other tats were correct, those on his fingers were. “I can handle—” “Shut up,” Mike ordered, as he tried to think clearly in the face of far too many instincts that screamed to him that what Carl really needed was for someone to scoop him up and take him away from all the crap he had to deal with at work. Instincts that demanded that he should be the man granted the privilege of doing that. “You can’t tell anyone about this. I know the only reason they assigned me to train you guys on the new software was because they thought I needed a break, that I was going to burn out and—” Sliding his hand into Carl’s spikes, Mike pulled the boy forward and pinned the shorter man’s head to his shoulder as he brought his other hand down sharply on Carl backside. “Hush when you’re told to hush,” he ordered. For several long seconds, Carl remained tense. Then, he relaxed. His head came to lean on Mike’s shoulder as if he no longer had the strength to resist a safe place to rest when it was offered to him. “What you said earlier was wrong,” Mike told him. “Leather’s not a game. It’s not roleplay. It’s more than that.”

Carl tried to make his brain work and process the words Mike said, but he was embarrassingly sure that all he actually did was rub his temple against the crook in the other man’s neck as he tried to squirm his way even closer to him. After the heat in his office, the gents’ room was uncomfortably cold. But Mike was warm, and strong, and reassuringly solid against him. “More?” he managed to query, as much because he liked the way Mike’s voice reverberated through his chest when he spoke as because he had any faith in his ability to make sense of any of the actual words.

All Carl understood right then, was that the world felt like a very good, very safe place when Mike was all wrapped around him. While strong hands held him close, it seemed that Mike was in control of everything, that he’d somehow make sure that no one would ever get hurt. It was a much better feeling than being in Billy’s office helping to unlock the encryptions on pictures that he really hadn’t wanted to see. “Yes. It’s much more than just games.” Carl frowned as he tried to work out what that might mean. “I could show you,” Mike offered, somehow managing to make his voice sound both strong and gentle at the same time. Carl nodded. That was the kind of thing he wanted to see. That was the kind of image he wanted in his head when he closed his eyes, and it was the reality he wanted to face when he opened them too. “Now?” he asked. “No, not right now.” Mike tried to pull away, but Carl tightened his grip on the other man’s shirt. A moment before, he hadn’t even been aware that he was holding on to him, now it was impossible to let him go. “Right now, you’re going to take a few deep breaths, wash your face and fix your makeup. Then you’re going to go back to your office and you’re going to teach me all about this program that’s supposed to be so bloody fantastic.” Carl shook his head. “Yes,” Mike said, determinedly. “You are. This isn’t the right time or the right place for anything else.” Carl’s knuckles ached as he tightened his grip on Mike’s shirt all the more. “This evening, after work, you can come to my place, and if you want to know more about submission and what it really means, I’ll show you then. And we’ll both know that you’re turning up because you’ve had time to think everything through and you’re still curious, and you still think I might be able to help. Okay?” “Address?” Carl wasn’t taking a single step away from the other man until he knew where he could find him. Mike rattled it off so easily, it was hard to believe it was anything other than the truth. Very reluctantly, Carl eased his grip.

“Good boy.” Mike pressed a chaste little kiss against his temple. “That’s good. Now, I’m going to get us both some coffee from the canteen. I’ll be back in your office by the time you get there.” Carl nodded. Somehow he forced himself to stay still as the other man walked away. The few minutes it took to follow Mike’s orders were the longest in Carl’s life. A strange sense of fear gripped his stomach as he approached the door to his own office. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if Mike wasn’t there. He had to hold his breath as he pushed the door open. “The woman in the canteen said you don’t like coffee. I got you tea instead.” Carl remembered how to breathe. “I’m sorry about—” “The computer program,” Mike cut in. He smiled slightly then, as if he really didn’t think a grown man throwing himself at him in the gents, and for all the wrong reasons, was anything to apologize for. Carl smiled back in relief as he slipped into his chair and opened up the appropriate window. The program—he could handle that. Somehow when Mike was sitting next to him, everything seemed just that little bit more manageable.

Chapter Three

The boy hadn’t really needed anything but a shoulder to cry on. He’d probably been in some kind of shock, that was all. He wouldn’t be turning up on his doorstep because the moment had passed and he was fine. Mike shook his head at himself. Maybe Carl had managed to convince himself of something along those lines, but Mike still knew a natural submissive when he saw one. The kind of job Carl was doing would be hell for anyone with a soul, but for someone whose instinctive and unexplored desires were all about handing over control and discovering that they’d placed their faith in a person they could trust, it had to be a very special kind of torture. Mike cracked his knuckles as he relaxed back in the big comfortable armchair set next to the fireplace in his front room and pretended that he wasn’t just sitting around waiting for the doorbell to ring. Even if he couldn’t make the entire world a better place the way he thought he’d be able to when he first joined the force, he could make one man better able to deal with the harsh realities of it. He could give one guy a safe place to retreat to. Mike could make sure that Carl had something to balance out the worst of the reality he’d decided to work with. For some reason, that was important. Mike changed hands and cracked the knuckles in his left. For some reason Carl was important. In a way that Mike couldn’t quite define, the silly little goth had crept under his skin as if his hide hadn’t been toughened in the slightest by twenty years spent working with the worst the criminal world could throw at him.

Closing his eyes, Mike let his head drop back against the well-cushioned back of his chair. He was getting old, that’s what it was. He was getting old and soppy and sentimental. Bloody hell, worse even than getting old, he was turning into Conrad Rawlings. At this rate he’d be taking in every limping stray dog he came across and— The doorbell rang, cutting through Mike’s thoughts. He smiled to himself as he pulled himself out of his chair and strode to the front door. Muscles that had been knotted with tension ever since he’d left the gents’ room at the station finally relaxed. In a way he couldn’t define, and which he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to study too closely, the world was a better place now that he knew Carl was within shouting distance of him. Pulling open the front door, Mike ran his eyes over the other man’s body in a quick but through inspection. “Hi.” Carl had added a more deeply colored glossy black lipstick to his look for the evening. Mike said nothing as he stepped back to allow the boy in. It wasn’t quite the kind of shield against the world he was used to his lovers adopting, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d probably quite enjoy smudging it with a kiss in due course. “Should I leave all my clothes here?” Carl asked, waving a hand toward the chair next to the door. Mike mentally rolled his eyes. The bloody internet had a hell of a lot to answer for—it probably accounted for more than half the chills caught by the leather community for one thing. “If you like,” he allowed. Closing the front door, he walked back into the front room, calling over his shoulder as he went. “Come in when you’re done.” It was one thing to make a point of not hanging around to enjoy the show, as if Carl were nothing more than a stripper in a sleazy club, but there was no way in hell Mike could be looking anywhere other than at the doorway as Carl joined him in his front room. The boy obviously wasn’t afraid of a little bit of pain, or a hell of a lot of pain, for that matter. The tattoos must have taken hours. A devil stared back at Mike from the other man’s bicep, a skull peered at him from his forearm. As Carl came to a stop in the middle of the hearth rug, Mike took in the slew of silver bars and rings that seemed to decorate every pierce-able bit of the other man’s body.

Not generally one to consider himself squeamish, Mike still couldn’t help but move his legs closer together as he saw the heavy Prince Albert gracing the end of the boy’s cock. Small mercies, his shaft was one part of the boy’s body that hadn’t been tattooed. Carl’s erection curved back toward his stomach, flushed with blood but, thankfully, not painted with any other colors than those nature had intended. “Take a seat.” Apparently missing the fact that there was another chair and a perfectly comfortable sofa he could have chosen to occupy, Carl lowered himself to his knees on the rug. Their eyes met. Carl’s expression was so full of expectation, Mike only just managed to bite back a chuckle. “Are you going to give me a safe word?” “No.” Mike waited to see if the other man would decide to recite what he’d read about safe words word for word, but Carl just nodded as if that was fine with him. Mike couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. It was pretty much the level of survival instinct he expected from a guy who allowed someone to stick a piercing needle straight through the end of his cock. “You don’t need a safe word while no still means no,” Mike explained. “Okay.” Mike leaned forward in his chair and rested his forearms on his knees. “I told you that I would show you that there is more to kink than just sex games.” Carl nodded, still holding Mike’s gaze with apparent ease. “If you say no to me, I’ll take you at your word and whatever I’m doing will stop. While you’re in my house, you have the right to request to be released from any bondage you may be placed in and to leave at any time. I won’t try to stop you.” A frown spread across Carl’s brow. He adjusted his position slightly, his knees sinking a little more deeply into the deep pile of the fireside rug in the process. “And nothing we do will be a game,” Mike went on. “Neither of us will be playing a role. I don’t expect you to put on an act. Be yourself. Be honest, and we’ll get along fine.” Carl’s fingers burrowed into the rug on either side of his knees and tugged uncertainly at the woolen strands. “I thought we were going to…” he looked down, as if suddenly unsure about everything in the whole world.

“The honest facts of the matter are that you’re a natural submissive and I’m a natural dominant. The truth is that we’ve both been hard damn near every second that’s passed since we set eyes on each other,” Mike said. Carl looked up. Mike caught his gaze and dipped his head to make sure he kept hold of it when Carl faltered. “You thought I was going to tie you up?” he asked. “You thought we were going to have sex? Yes, we are—if not both tonight then at some point. But if that’s all you were looking to receive, you’re going to get far more than you bargained for.” The younger man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed rapidly. “Okay.” That seemed to be the full extent of the contribution he intended to make to the conversation. Mike’s lips twisted into a slight smile. There was something about him that made it so hard not to want to grin like an idiot just because he was there. All the stress, and all the cases running through his mind, faded slowly away. There was only one man he had to worry about right then. “Stand up.” Carl did as he was told. He made no attempt to hide any part of his body in the process. “Bloody hell. How often do you accidentally set off metal detectors?” Mike asked as he stood up and slowly walked around the younger man, taking in every detail. Carl let out a burst of laughter that was so sudden it even seemed to surprise him. His shoulders relaxed slightly. He was completely at ease by the time Mike stepped behind him once more, picking up the blindfold he’d left on the mantelpiece on the way past. It only took one deft movement to slip it over Carl’s eyes. “What the—!” The moment the fastening snapped together behind the boy’s head, Mike moved his hands to Carl’s shoulders. Pulling the smaller man back against him, he wrapped his arms all the way around him in a huge bear hug. Off balance and blinded by the thickly padded leather, Carl instinctively squirmed and tried to pull away. “That’s enough,” Mike said, when he judged that the other man had been given sufficient time to get his panic out of his system.

Carl stilled. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his body automatically crammed as much oxygen as it could into his lungs, trying to make him ready for fight, flight or anything else the world might demand from him. “Lesson number one,” Mike whispered. “When it’s not just a game, any exchange of power is all about trust.” He could almost feel the other man straining his hearing to make sure he caught every word. “You could have just said that,” Carl muttered. He lifted his hand toward the blindfold, dipping his head forward as if preparing to undo the catch. Mike wrapped his fingers around the other man’s wrist and quickly killed that idea in its tracks. “If saying it would have been sufficient, we could have had a nice quiet little chat about it at the station. There are some things you can’t learn about just through words. There are some things you can’t really understand until you’re living them.” For several long seconds, Carl was silent, his only movement his breathing. Mike waited him out, letting his words sink in slowly. Finally, the moment felt right. “Do you trust me, Carl?” The next breath the other man took was deeper, slower, more deliberate. Another moment passed. Finally Carl nodded. “Yes, sir.” “No, not sir,” Mike corrected. “It’s not a game, remember. I’m me, you’re you, and this isn’t about me being better than you or even about me outranking you in some way, it’s about you choosing to submit to another man just because that’s what you want to do.” “Okay.” Just that word. “That’s good,” Mike said, carefully easing his grip on the boy, until Carl stood completely unsupported in the center of the room. His posture was different now. There was less cockiness about him now that he was blind and vulnerable, less bravado. Without his own sight, Carl seemed less aware of making sure his body language screamed his ability to cope, at anyone who so much as glanced in his direction. “The blindfold stays on until I remove it,” Mike ordered. “Okay,” Carl said again, turning slightly to face the sound of Mike’s voice. Careful not to make a single sound as he picked up the next item on that night’s playlist, Mike moved behind Carl once more.

The first handcuff snapped around the other man’s wrist in one well practiced movement. Carl spun around. His other fist instantly swung up, as if to deliver a strong punch. Mike was pretty sure he didn’t intend to offer his other wrist to be cuffed, but the movement couldn’t have been better choreographed if that had been his only aim in the universe. Easily dodging the blind blow, he flicked his wrist at just the right angle. A ratcheting sound filled the air as the second cuff locked into place. Carl instinctively tugged at the restraints. He took a step back. Mike didn’t allow him to take another. His arms wrapped around Carl’s body once more. Carl’s palms slid against Mike’s shirt as he tried to push him away. Tightening his hold on him, Mike just stood there in the center of his living room with the bound and naked man in his arms until Carl finally seemed to realize he had already lost that particular fight. It would have been so easy to have just stayed there all night, or to tilt the other man’s head back, bring their lips together and let everything take an easy course. Somehow, Mike still forced himself to take a step back and let go of the other man once more. This time, he made sure Carl heard his every step as he circled him. Turning around, Carl clumsily tried to trace Mike’s progress around the room. The boy’s muscles were tensing again. Fight or flight… Mike could see how uneven the other man’s breaths were, and he knew Carl’s heart had to be racing so fast the boy probably felt like it would jump out of his chest at any moment. The silver rings decorating Carl’s nipples glittered as they caught the light. So did the Prince Albert. There was only one toy left for Mike to pick up now. As he retrieved it from its hiding place, tucked behind a picture on a side table, the little leather bag was heavy in his hand. There was nothing to glimmer or glitter on it, no decoration, it just was what it was. Reaching out, Mike caught hold of the metal links between Carl’s cuffs with his other hand and jerked them forward. Carl stumbled toward him and collided heavily with his chest. The boy’s hands scrabbled at his shirt as he tried to steady himself. Mike waited for Carl to try to shove him away once more, but the younger man merely leaned into him. His temple came to rest on Mike’s shoulder as he slid his arms around the boy and even pulled him closer. A soft, content little noise escaped from the back of Carl’s throat, making Mike smile. Perfect…

Chapter Four

“That’s right, I’ve got you.” Carl barely heard the words. They were whispered so quietly he could only just make out the syllables over the pounding of his heart, but he sensed the welcome in them easily enough. Mike’s body was warm and comforting against him. The arms wrapped around his body were strong and confident, and every instinct Carl possessed screamed out that he’d be a fool to push the other man away again. If he kept shoving him away, sooner or later Mike would get fed up of trying to catch him and it would be over. Carl shook his head, rubbing his face against Mike’s shirt. That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t lose this…this…whatever the hell it was he seemed to have found in the other man’s presence. It was like rushing inside out of a storm and finding a roaring fire just waiting for him. It danced in the grate, warm and comforting. And there was a little bit of danger too—that knowledge that it might easily burn a man if he failed to treat it with due respect, might consume him if he wasn’t careful. Part of Carl knew it was a stupid way to feel about a man he barely knew. He should go back to thinking big sensible thoughts like those that occupied his mind at work… Big sensible thoughts sucked. Being allowed to simply free his emotions and react honestly to any stimuli put before him was a much more inviting option. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled Mike’s scent, even that seemed to reassure him. It also went straight to his cock. Carl couldn’t help but rock his hips and rub his erection against the other man’s jeans.

One of Mike’s hands dropped to his arse and quickly stilled any attempt to hump his leg. “No. There’ll be time enough for that later. First, there’s something else I want us to do.” Carl nodded. Whatever Mike wanted them to get up to was fine with him. Hell, as embarrassing as it was to admit, he was pretty sure he’d settle for just being allowed to snuggle against him for the rest of the night. Being permitted to fall asleep against him was suddenly rocketing to the top of Carl’s to-do list. “Good,” the other man whispered. His voice sounded better, even deeper and richer than ever, when he said that word. Carl instantly decided he wanted to hear Mike say it all the time. Hearing it felt even better than the other guy’s jeans had felt against his cock. “Lift your arms above your head, as high as you can.” Mike let go of him and retreated a step. The only thing Carl wanted to do was reach for the other man, but he raised his hands and obediently sought for the ceiling instead. Strong palms settled on his biceps and walked him backward several paces, until Carl felt something cold and hard against his heel. “Step up onto it. It’s only a few inches high.” Carl took another step back, up onto the little raised platform. He tried to bring a picture of the room into the forefront of his mind, but the only thing he’d really looked at since he arrived was Mike. He vaguely remembered some sort of fireplace with a white stone hearth beneath it and old wooden beam acting as a sort of mantel piece above it. Rough wood rubbed against his shoulder blades confirming all of Carl’s suspicions. He knew where he was in the room now. He was pressed back against the fireplace. A clicking sound echoed down from above Carl’s head. He tried to lower his hands and reach for Mike as he sensed the other man step away from him, but the cuffs held him in place. They were attached to something above his head. Carl tugged, but whatever it was held solid. His hands weren’t going anywhere. Carl’s body swayed forward. His feet were free to kick out, but there was nothing to be found as he extended one leg and swept the area within his reach. “Mike?” “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere without you.” Carl licked his lips as they turned dry with nerves. “What are you doing?” “I’m doing whatever I want with you,” Mike said.

“Oh,” Carl said. “That’s okay then. Nothing to worry about…” It wasn’t as if he’d just agreed to allow a stranger to blindfold him and tie him up just because he happened to think the other guy was hot, just because he needed a distraction from unpleasant work… “If you’re worried, you can ask to be uncuffed,” Mike reminded him. “You can ask me to take your blindfold off, and I will.” Carl hesitated for a moment. “No,” he finally whispered. “It’s…it’s okay. I don’t mind them that much.” Losing this was far more terrifying a thought than anything he could imagine Mike doing to him. A moment passed. Carl’s wrists jerked against the cuffs as something stroked across the inside of his bicep. Up and down, again and again, somehow Mike’s fingertips coaxed the skin he caressed to tingle until it became impossibly sensitive. When the other man’s touch was withdrawn as suddenly as it had been offered, Carl didn’t know if he wanted to breathe a sigh of relief or plead for it to come back. Something else touched against that same patch of skin. Not a fingertip. Carl didn’t have time to work out what it was before it bit. “Hey! What the hell?” Carl jerked his arm, but whatever it was seemed to be attached firmly to his skin. He felt something swinging back and forth on his arm, but he couldn’t shake it away. “Get it off!” “Is that a real request, Carl?” Mike asked, very calmly. “You know I’ll take it away if it’s what you tell me you really want.” Those words cut through Carl’s panic in the way no order ever could have, silencing him more effectively than any command to shut up might have done. “I…” Carl frowned, trying to make his brain work. His arm burned as if someone had stuck a burning needle in it. Except, he’d had plenty of needles stuck in him over the years. This was different. It was duller than a needle and more persistent. As he studied the sensation, turning his head as if to stare through the blindfold at his arm, it eased slightly. “It’s not so bad,” he admitted. “Do you want me to take it away?” Mike asked again, his tone very composed. His voice had a strange rhythm to it. It was almost like a metronome, or the beat of a drum in the

background of a song. It had been hard to pinpoint it before, but now that Carl was blind and desperate to make use of those senses still at his disposal, he found himself concentrating hard upon it. “I need your answer, Carl.” “No. Don’t take it away.” Suddenly, the idea of failing to push forward felt scary in a manner Carl hadn’t even known was possible. “You want to keep going?” Mike pushed. Carl nodded, very quickly. A strong hand came to rest of his cheek, stilling his head. “You’re not going to be thrown out onto the street if you need to take a step back, Carl. This isn’t a test. There’s no pass or fail.” Pushing his face into Mike’s hand, Carl shook his head. “I want more.” He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted it until the words were out there. Mike’s hand retreated. A moment later, another bite closed around the inside of Carl’s arm, just an inch below the last. Carl took a deep breath. He could do pain. He’d done pain voluntarily and enthusiastically ever since he turned eighteen and walked into his first tattoo parlor. Pain wasn’t a problem, it was just an intense sensation. No mild sensation was going to take his mind off anything. Intensity was just what he needed. Carl’s feet shuffled against the hearth stone. Time had a different feeling to it behind the blindfold. A minute could have passed or half an hour might have ticked by, Carl had no way of knowing. Finally, another pinch told him another clamp of some sort was attached to his arm, following the same line as the others. Parting his lips, Carl took a deep breath. Tipping his head back, he looked around for that calm peaceful place that he’d often stumbled across while under a needle. He was soon ready for another clamp to be attached, for the line of throbbing fire to get a little longer. A cry left his lips as his head jerked forward to stare sightlessly down his body. The point he’d been so focused on remained untouched. His left nipple was caught in a mousetrap. “Something you want to say to me, Carl?” Mike’s fingertips stroked his cheek. It was amazing to think so gentle a touch could come from such a big burly guy. Even more fantastic to realize that it came from the same person who was so calmly toying with other parts of his body.

What did he want to say? Carl closed his eyes behind the blindfold as he tried to make his brain work. Go back and finish the bit you’ve started before you wander off to play with a different bit of me? That was one thing he wanted to say. The patch of skin in the inside of his right arm where he’d expected Mike to attack next, was quietly sobbing its disappointment. It almost hurt more than the parts of him that were already clamped. Squirming, Carl tried to shake out his limbs and wriggle some sense into them. But what did he want to say to Mike? Enough? More? Carl had no idea. Turning his head, he solved the problem by avoiding the need to speak entirely. His lips wrapped around Mike’s fingers, quickly sucking them deep into his mouth. He half expected Mike to jerk them away and closed his teeth gently around the second joint in anticipation of a struggle. But Mike patiently allowed him to run his tongue over the digits and gradually memorize how they felt inside him before he finally withdrew them. “That’s good,” Mike whispered as he stroked the fingers of his other hand down the center of Carl’s chest. “Good boy.” The words went straight past Carl’s ears. A moment later they found a part of Carl that hadn’t even realized how much he needed to hear a man like Mike say them. He wasn’t entirely sure if his agreement was needed, or even what exactly he was agreeing with, but he nodded anyway. That lonely patch of skin on the inside of his arm found what it had been waiting for as something finally clamped down around it. Carl let his head drop back, but he made no attempt to fight anything. He welcomed the pain in and knelt down at its feet, ready to obey any order that it wished to give him. He lost count of the number of pinches that followed then. Along each arm, the inside of his thighs—Mike found ways to attach the little bites to parts of Carl’s body he was sure would never be able to hold them. Carl’s teeth cut into his bottom lip as some part of him tried to manage both the pain and the pleasure running through him, but he soon had to give up, handing that final bit of control over to Mike as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Suddenly, a new clamp was clipped to the underside of his straining shaft. Carl whimpered, but he made no protest. Moments passed, the first flush of adrenaline faded away. He waited to see where the next clamp would be placed. Nothing. Carl turned his head, trying to make out the sound of Mike’s breaths, or his heartbeat, anything at all that would prove his new best friend hadn’t vanished. “I’m still here.” Carl let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. “How do you feel?” Frowning slightly, Carl tried to make words happen. “Good,” he finally managed to whisper through a throat left dry by all his pleading moans and enthusiastic whimpers. “I feel good.” “Good,” Mike echoed. His fingers stroked down Carl’s face, but they dodged away from his lips before he could steal another taste of them. Vaguely aware that the clip on his left nipple suddenly felt different, Carl arched his back, wondering if the other man had brushed against it, if Mike was close enough for him to press his whole body against him. A jolt far harsher than anything he’d felt that night tore through him, a yelp escaped from between Carl’s lips. “What goes on must come off,” Mike whispered, right next to his ear. Carl nodded his understanding. The other man didn’t point out that, whatever the little buggers he’d attached to him were, they hurt far more as they were removed than they had when they were first applied. There again, he didn’t really need to. Carl had barely caught his breath before another bolt of lightning shot through him, entering his skin at the point that had been clamped but was now suddenly free. Another then another, they came off far faster than they went on. Carl’s head spun with the different sensations that ricocheted through his body. He wasn’t even sure he’d have kept his balance if it weren’t for the cuffs around his wrists holding him upright. The blindfold grew damp as he failed to keep back tears that had far more to do with an overload of pleasure than pain.

Panting for breath, Carl writhed against the fireplace as Mike pulled another clamp from his skin. There was no way to control the other man’s actions, no way to predict which bite would be taken away next. It would have been pointless to protest or ask him to stop. Mike had been right—what went on had to come off, there was no arguing with that. The clamp on the underside of Carl’s cock moved slightly. He barely had time to brace himself before a spike of adrenaline and endorphins more intense than anything he had ever known shot through him like the most powerful silver bullet on the planet. Carl tossed back his head, screaming as he came. For one brief moment there was nothing in the universe except pure pleasure. Then, very slowly, even that faded away as a deeper blackness crept behind his blindfold and gradually engulfed him.

Chapter Five

“Sleep well?” Carl’s forehead furrowed as he blinked open his eyes. Mike couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at the other man. Carl tried to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder was enough to put pay to that idea. Carl collapsed back onto Mike’s sofa. “What happened?” “You passed out.” Carl’s frown deepened. Mike bit the inside of his cheek to keep back a chuckle. With his eyeliner smudged by both blindfold and tears, the pouty confusion in the younger man’s eyes looked more than a little sweet. Reaching out, Mike pushed back a spike of black hair that had fallen forward into Carl’s eyes. The boy watched his hand with suspicion, but he made no move to retreat from it. He lifted his own hand towards his hair a moment later, as he seemed to focus in on the world a little more clearly and realize he had to look a mess. The hand stopped halfway to its destination. Carl seemed to lose all interest in his hair as he studied the mark around his wrist very carefully. He’d put up one hell of a struggle against his cuffs as he came—and it was only Mike’s quick reaction that had stopped him doing far more damage to his wrists when he fainted. “Do you always lose consciousness when you come, or should I feel special?” Carl’s eyes narrowed. His hand rubbed at his cheek. He studied the smudge on his fingertips for several seconds. “I’m starting to think you get a real kick out of messing up my eyeliner,” he muttered, but the bravado he seemed to be trying to inject into the words simply wasn’t working right then.

As Carl dropped his gaze, he nibbled at his bottom lip, honest worry making itself known in every line of his body. Mike smiled. With that expression on his face it was easy to remember how young the other man was. “I’ve had men pass out on me before,” he mentioned, almost conversationally. “But when they came around, they usually woke up. You’re the first submissive whose gone from unconscious to fast asleep on me.” Carl’s head jerked up. “What?” “I was starting to wonder if you were okay,” Mike said. “Then you rolled over and started snoring, so I—” “I don’t snore!” Mike’s smile widened. That was more like it. It was good to hear a little bit of bite back in the boy’s voice. “How do you feel?” “Bit sore,” Carl said. The words had an absentminded quality to them as he stroked his fingertips over the marks on the insides of his biceps. Pushing back the blanket that Mike had tucked around him as he slept, Carl eagerly inspected the rest of his body, apparently not the least concerned with the show he was putting on for his audience. “What did you put on me?” “The latest in hi-tech BDSM paraphernalia, only available on special order from a few very exclusive websites.” Mike said. Leaning down he picked up a clothes peg from the little leather bag resting at his feet and held it up. Carl reached for it, only to hesitate at the last moment, as if he wasn’t sure he should be doing that. Mike nodded his permission as he handed it over. The submissive studied it very carefully, turning it over and over in his fingers as if waiting for it to transform into something else before his very eyes. “If you’re trying to work out where to plug it in, don’t bother. As you get older you’ll learn that some of the best things in life don’t actually require batteries.” Carl’s lips twitched as if he were holding back a smile in spite of himself. “They felt…good,” he hazarded. He cleared his throat then, and made an effort to sit up a little straighter. His attention moved from his own body to Mike’s and focused in on the hard-on that was pressing against the inside of Mike’s fly. “So, now that I’m awake…”

“Now that you’re awake, I’ll give you a ride home,” Mike said firmly, as he pulled himself to his feet. “What?” Carl stood up, too, apparently not the least worried about the fact he was still stark bollock naked. “A ride home,” Mike repeated. He wasn’t entirely sure whose benefit he was saying it for, but he had a horrible suspicion it might be for his own. Carl dressed like a gothic little leather wannabe was hot enough. Carl wearing nothing but the marks Mike had left on his skin was in another league. The boy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re serious,” he realized. “Yes.” Mike turned his back on him as he made a show of looking for his car keys. “Right now, you’d screw any guy who asked you to. That’s not—” “Wait a second,” Carl cut in. “You’re refusing to have sex with me, because you think I’d agree to have sex with you?” Mike looked over his shoulder. While the boy had that amount of adrenaline and that many endorphins rushing through him, it wasn’t all that bad an understanding of the situation. “Something like that,” he allowed. Carl gawped at him as if he had grown several extra heads, and a few additional arms for good measure. The boy’s confusion didn’t make it any easier to get him back into his clothes and into the car for the drive home, but with a lot of patience, Mike finally managed it. “You’re weird. You know that, don’t you?” Carl asked, folding his arms across his chest and slouching down even further in the passenger seat. “This coming from the boy wearing eyeliner,” Mike teased, as he pulled up outside Carl’s house. The other man smiled, but there was just a hint of uncertainty surrounding the gesture. He looked from Mike to his front door and back again as if not entirely sure what to do with himself. Taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, Mike handed it across the car. “Ring me when it seems like the right time to you.” Carl gave him another slightly confused glance before slipping out of the car. As Mike pulled away from the curb a few minutes later, he couldn’t help but wonder just how pathetic it was for a grown man to be glad that he’d managed to drive his date home without coming in his jeans in the process.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Mike held back a sigh. He was not going to check his mobile phone to make sure it was switched on and fully charged just in case Carl should decide to phone. At least not until he got home… **** “Trent thinks I’m an idiot.” Mike looked up from the unidentifiable canteen lunch on his plate. His gaze had only taken in the hands holding the tray and, if he hadn’t recognized the voice, he still wouldn’t have had any doubt who he was speaking to. There was only one man in the station who would turn up wearing black nail varnish. The tattoos on his fingers still proclaimed him to be lost. “Hello, Carl.” He didn’t have to lift his gaze any further, Carl took the seat opposite him, bringing black spikes and heavy eye-liner comfortably into Mike’s field of vision without him having to move even the smallest muscle. “He says I shouldn’t be pissed off with you for not screwing me last Tuesday, because you were actually being a good guy,” Carl went on. Mike frowned slightly. He was willing to admit that he had hoped Carl might have called him over the last few days. It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that he should have been hoping that he’d be there for the start of the conversation when they did finally speak to each other. First things first. “Who’s Trent?” And why are you talking to another man about our sex life? He managed to keep the second question back, but it was a close run thing as an unexpected wave of jealousy rose up inside him. “Trent Rawlings. He’s my cousin,” Carl said. He didn’t look up. All his attention seemed to be on moving his plates off his tray and arranging them very precisely before him. “He’s dating a guy working undercover. He’s a sub and he thinks I should give you another chance.” “That’s nice of him.” “I thought so,” Carl said, finally looking up. “Because, in case you’re wondering, until I spoke to him, I was pretty ready to make a voodoo doll with a real serious expression and an old school copper’s attitude. There again, Trent’s a nice guy. He’d probably forgive a dominant anything.”

Mike leaned back in his chair and simply waited out what appeared to be a well rehearsed performance. “I’m still not sure how nice I want to be to you,” Carl went on, opening his can and setting a straw in it. “On the one hand, there’s something about you that makes me want to crawl under this table and suck you dry—and please do bear in mind at this point, I give really good head.” He paused for a moment to take a sip of his drink through the straw. “There’s also a part of me that wants to throw one hell of a punch for knocking me back the way you did. I’m pretty good at that too. My cousin Dane’s a great boxer and he’s taught me a few moves over the years.” Mike waited a few beats, arms folded across his chest. “Finished?” he finally asked. Carl seemed to give the question careful thought. “For now,” he allowed. “One,” Mike said, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on the table. “If and when we ever do anything together it won’t be in this cafeteria or anywhere else in this station. Two—as and when you agree to do whatever I want, it won’t be because you’re so high from your first scene that you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. It will be because you’re making a clearheaded and fully informed choice. Three—if you try to take a swing at me or slide under this table, I’ll have you over my knee so quickly, your head will spin.” “Promises promises…” Carl murmured, taking a tiny bite from the corner of his sandwich. “There’s only so much brattiness I will take from any submissive I offer to train,” Mike warned. “You’ll learn the difference between the kind of spanking you’re supposed to enjoy and the kind that’s a very effective punishment very quickly if you put yourself in my hands.” Carl stared back across the table at him, a touch of humor in his eyes. “Are you asking me if I want to go steady with you?” “I told you before that I don’t play games,” Mike warned. Carl looked down for a moment. “So what are you asking me then?” “I’m asking you if you want to be my submissive. If you want me to be your master,” Mike said. Just as Carl had described, there were two parts of him that felt very differently about the prospect. The first half thought it was a crazy offer to make after such a short acquaintance. The other knew better than to waste the kind of connection they seemed to have. “If I say yes now, and change my mind later?” Carl asked after a few seconds.

“Then I’ve no interest in an unwilling man. If you want to stay with me, you’ll abide by my rules, if you don’t want to stay,” Mike shrugged. “Close the door on your way out.” He ran his eyes over the other man’s expression, trying to get a better read on him, but it wasn’t as easy as it should have been. Carl nodded very slowly, never once looking him in the eye. He stared at his sandwich for a little while. “What exactly would happen if I say yes?” “Right now, we’ll both finish our lunch and go back to work. After your shift, you’ll go home, pack a bag with whatever you’ll need for the next three days, and make your way to my house,” Mike said, each word calm and confident, as if he wasn’t knotting up with nerves inside. Carl nodded again. One of his spikes swayed slightly. A varnished nail tapped on the table next to his plate. The silence stretched out around them. Finally, it was broken. “Yes.” That was the only word Carl said. “I’ll expect you at six,” Mike told him. Carl glanced up. “Do I need to bring anything special to…?” He trailed off as Mike shook his head. “I have everything we’ll need.” Apparently too nervous to eat right then, Carl started to put his things back on his tray. Mike waited until the boy stood up before he spoke. “Carl?” “Yes.” “That chain you’re wear around your neck. I expect it to be removed by the time you reach my house. Buy bolt cutters if you have to, but you won’t be invited in if you’re still wearing it when you get to me.” Carl didn’t say anything as he turned and walked away. Mike watched him go, running his eyes slowly up and down the other man’s back. A visible shiver ran through Carl’s frame, as if he knew he was being observed. Mike smiled. Part of him wanted nothing more than to get up and chase after him. Another, more sensible part, thought that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to leave the privacy provided by the table in front of him until his cock had calmed down a bit. The leather Carl was wearing might have hidden his arousal, Mike’s suit wouldn’t hide his.

He stared down at his plate as if it were a vital clue to an important case, but he didn’t even see the food before him. Carl was his. The thought rushed around and around in Mike’s mind, but that was little more than a distraction. A deep seated feeling of contentment was also spreading through him. His shoulders relaxed. His breathing slowed, turning easier and deeper. Whatever trace of a frown that had been on his brow earlier that day faded away. For just a little while, Mike wasn’t Detective Inspector Shane. He was just a dominant who possessed a submissive. He was just a man who owned another man, body and soul.

Chapter Six

Carl leaned to one side and tried to peer in through Mike’s front window, but he couldn’t even make out a single shadow past the closed curtains. Only the trace of light creeping around the edges hinted that there was even anyone home. He considered pressing the doorbell again then thought better of it. He doubted Mike would be impressed with anyone nagging him to get to the door quicker. It probably wasn’t a very submissive thing for a guy to do anyway—except, Carl didn’t feel very submissive right then. He felt horny and impatient and quietly desperate to see the other man. He felt a lot of things, but submissive wasn’t one of them. Rocking back on his heels, Carl pulled his hold-all back onto his shoulder when it threatened to slip. His fingers brushed against his bare neck. A breeze blew through Mike’s front garden, seeming to caress the bare bit of skin on purpose. In some stupid way, he felt more naked right then than when he hadn’t been wearing a single stitch. It was only a bit of chain. It hadn’t meant anything to him, but it had meant something to Mike… Finally the door swung open. The light from the hall spilled out onto the doorstep. Mike stood on the threshold, a large white towel wrapped around his waist as he rubbed his hair with its smaller counterpart. “You’re early.” Carl said nothing. He was far too busy staring. As he watched, a droplet of water ran down Mike’s neck and over his chest. The other man’s bland work suit had been covering up a physique that instantly made Carl’s mouth water. He swayed forward, desperate to lick up that droplet before it was caught by the wiry hairs that decorated the solid wall of muscle.

“Carl?” Finally he made himself look up and met Mike’s eyes. They were shining with humor. “Get inside.” Carl stepped in and closed the door after him. Then, having fulfilled his obligation to obedience for the evening, he went back to staring. “Are you going to speak at any point?” “I…um, am I going to be in trouble if I say that I’m really not sorry I’m early?” Carl asked. Mike flicked at Carl’s arse with the damp towel. A thwack of fabric against leather filled the air. “Go on. Get upstairs.” Smiling, Carl rushed up the steep flight two at a time. One of the bedroom doors was open. His momentum carried him up the last step and straight through it. By that time, his eager feet were going far too fast for his brain to control. He stumbled forward, came within a hair’s breadth of the bed, and promptly collapsed in a little heap on the floor right next to it. Twisting around, he let go of his bag and looked up at Mike as the other man made his way into the room at a far more leisurely pace. Mike was still smiling. That was good. In that moment, Carl decided he really liked it when Mike smiled at him—he always wanted him to smile at him from that moment on. “Here are the rules,” Mike said as he carelessly tossed both his towels into a hamper on the other side of the room. Squirming around, Carl rearranged his legs into a more comfortable position, but he didn’t try to lift himself up from the floor as he watched the other man walk across to a wardrobe completely naked. “No lies.” Mike tossed a pair of jeans on the bed, then a shirt. “That includes telling me the truth when you feel something is too much for you.” He looked toward Carl and raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” Carl agreed. “No excuses,” Mike went on, apparently not the least bit concerned that he was now more than half hard. “If you screw up, if you break a rule, if you do something stupid, I expect you to simply admit it and accept the punishment, then we’ll move on.” “Sounds fair,” Carl murmured, his attention all on the stiffening shaft.

“No talking about work in this house.” Carl’s brain slowly shuddered into action, pointing out that this condition seemed to be quite different to the others, more idiosyncratic, more personal to Mike—more important. He looked up. Mike held his gaze as he sat down on the bed above him. “If you want to vent about a case you’re working on, I’ll listen. There’s nothing you can say that will shock me. I’ve seen every kind of case there is. But that conversation will happen at the station or…I don’t really care where, anywhere apart from inside this house. Understand?” Carl held his gaze for several long seconds. “Am I allowed to ask why?” “Always. And it’s because, when we are in this house, I’m a dominant and you’re a submissive. I’m not a cop. You’re not a computer whizz. We’re just what we are to each other. That’s what we both need,” Mike added. ”Some place where handcuffs are only ever used for fun.” It was impossible to tell if he were speaking more to Carl or to himself as he said those words—or which of them needed that more. Carl looked down at his wrists. Very slowly, he placed them together and offered them up to the other man. Mike seemed to be trapped in a similar slow motion spell as he reached out and wrapped his hands around Carl’s wrists. Every movement of each finger was very controlled, very deliberate as they curled around Carl’s skin until the fingertips joined and his wrists were completely enclosed in bondage made solely from the other man’s body. A gentle tug was all it took to bring Carl crawling around to kneel in front of the other man. For a few seconds, he held Mike’s gaze. When that became impossible, he turned his attention back to Mike’s grip upon him. Their hands looked good arranged like that, with the older man’s darker skin encircling him. It felt good, too. Even as he knelt there, Mike’s touch seemed to sink into him until it went deeper than any tattoo, until it became more a part of him than any piercing could. Carl smiled slightly. Mike was big and strong, and he was right there. Without his conscious mind getting any vote in the matter, Carl found himself leaning forward until his forehead came to rest on the other man’s chest.

His skin was still damp from the shower. Carl rubbed his head back and forth, nuzzling against him. He felt Mike’s hands move and blinked his eyes open just in time to see the other man transfer both his wrists into the grip of one hand. If he tried to pull out of that hold, the other man probably stood no chance of restraining him one handed, but that didn’t matter. Carl had no intention of pulling away. Mike’s free hand disappeared and moved to the back of Carl’s head. There was no pressure behind his touch. It was strong and solid, but it only welcomed him closer. Carl pressed a kiss against Mike’s chest. Flicking out his tongue he stole a taste of the skin there before dipping his head to press another kiss a few inches lower. Mike made no complaint. As far as Carl was concerned, that counted as permission. He traced his forehead down the other man’s body, mapping out a winding path that took in as much skin as possible, until his lips finally brushed against his new master’s shaft. Mike released his hands, apparently to make it easier for him to go down on him, but that was fine with Carl. There was only so much pleasure a man could receive at one time. Sighing with satisfaction, finally where he’d wanted to be ever since he approached the other man during their lunch break so many hours earlier, Carl lapped against the velvety soft skin. There were still tiny droplets of water clinging to the dark hairs around the base of Mike’s cock. Carl licked them up before parting his lips and finally taking the tip of the other man’s shaft into his mouth. Mike’s hand stroked through his hair. His careless petting was going to play hell with his spikes. Carl could practically feel the style he’d worked so hard to achieve fall apart above him. Against all his expectations, he was okay with that, too. No one but Mike was going to see him. No one would take a faltering hairstyle as some sort of evidence he wasn’t strong enough to cope with the job at hand. The only thing he had to be in that moment was Mike’s submissive. There was something very simple, very perfect about that. “Good boy.” Carl glanced up through his lashes as he ran his tongue over the vein along the underside of the other man’s cock. Mike looked pleased with him. That was important. Carl murmured his satisfaction as he dipped his head and the hard shaft slid further between his lips.

All he had to do was give the other man the best blow job he was capable of. Closing his eyes, Carl relished that fact. All the things that he had worried about so much over the months since he was first hired to work with computer crimes faded a little further away. There was no room in Carl’s head to worry about the fact that there weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything that needed to be done. There was no pressure to keep the whole world safe. No pictures off the internet appeared behind his eyelids when he closed them. There was just him and Mike. Carl looked up once more. Their eyes met, and he was willing to bet his whole life that Mike felt exactly the same way. Suddenly, the other man pulled back a little, reaching for something in his bedside drawer. Carl frowned slightly, leaning forward to keep Mike’s cock in his mouth as he suckled more firmly around the glans, not willing to give up his treat just yet. A flash of leather caught his attention. Carl focused in upon it. A collar—an honest to God real leather collar. His neck tingled. He whimpered gently around Mike’s shaft in anticipation. “This is what you want?” Mike asked. Carl nodded, careful not to let the head of Mike’s cock slip from between his lips. He bowed his head, taking him all the way to the base as the other man reached out to fasten the leather around his throat, safe and secure. As easily as that, Carl didn’t need to worry about rescuing anyone. He was the one being looked after now. “One of the benefits of you dressing as you do,” Mike informed him. “Is that you’ll be able to wear this all the time without anyone batting an eye, won’t you?” Carl’s eyes dropped closed again as he pictured that, an entire lifetime of being allowed to take his own leather security blanket with him wherever he went. Strong fingers slid into the collar and tugged him up, away from Mike’s cock. Carl frowned, but he didn’t resist. Right then, he’d have gone wherever Mike ordered without question. As their lips met for the first time, Carl gasped. His arms suddenly remembered how to do something other than hang idly at his sides. He reached out and ran his palms over the other man’s bare skin. He felt Mike’s hands moving over him in return. As his new master took complete possession of his mouth, Carl was vaguely aware of his clothes falling away and disappearing.

Mike reached back into that same bedside drawer for a second time. Carl didn’t remembering his master pulling away or even breaking the kiss for a moment, but somehow the other man’s fingers were suddenly slicked with lube and sliding against his hole, circling and teasing him. Spreading his legs further apart, Carl squirmed and pulled his knees back, offering himself to the other man in the most basic way he knew how. Thick digits gradually stretched him open, first one finger—its touch careful until Carl thrust down upon it, making it clear he didn’t need to be treated like a tender little virgin. Two, then three were soon inside him, making him writhe and squirm against the bedspread as they found his prostate. The fingers disappeared as suddenly as they arrived. The kiss ended. A condom wrapper was torn open. Carl blinked his eyes open just in time to watch it flutter down onto the bed next to his head. Once more, everything seemed to slow down around him. He was sure Mike was as desperate to screw him as he was to be screwed, but an entire lifetime seemed to pass before he finally felt the tip of Mike’s cock press against his hole. In a move that seemed to take still more years, Carl turned his head to look up at the other man. Mike pushed into him with one hard thrust. Their bodies came together. Suddenly, time seemed to restart around them. Carl gasped, pressing his head back into the pillow as the other man’s body covered his, heat and strength pressing him back into the mattress. He had no leverage, practically folded in half as his ankles were pushed up onto Mike’s shoulders, there was nothing he could do but take whatever his lover chose to give him, and right then, even that was perfect. A rough grip wrapped around his cock, jacking him off in time with Mike’s thrusts as Carl’s hands remained behind his knees, holding his legs back. Each pounding thrust sent a wave of pleasure through him unlike anything he’d ever found in a hook up or even with a boyfriend. His master wiped every other man from his memory as he picked Carl up and took him, heart and soul, to somewhere he’d never been. Screaming as he came, Carl felt himself settle into that perfect new place. Even after the fireworks faded from behind his lids and pleasure stopped racing through his body, he had no doubt that there was a part of him that was still in that peaceful little oasis. There was a serenity inside him he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling until that moment. Mike had obviously come too. Carl could feel the other man’s shaft softening inside

him. When his master began to pull away, Carl let go of his legs, forgetting all about how painful getting cramp might be right then. He caught hold of Mike’s shoulders and tried to pull him back. Frowning, he managed to focus on his lover. Mike blinked down at him in return. “You’re not going to throw me out again, are you?” Carl blurted out. Mike chuckled softly. “I’m just making sure you have room to breathe.” True to his word, he retreated far enough to be able to collapse on the bed next to Carl rather than on top of him. There was barely a few inches of blanket between them, but it seemed like a big gap to bridge—until a hand reached out, caught hold of Carl’s collar and pulled him forward. Carl automatically reached out to break his fall. His hands skidded on Mike’s chest as he tumbled against him. A strong arm looped around him, pinning him to the larger man’s side as if that were the place he naturally belonged. Closing his eyes, Carl relished everything about his new position. With his head resting on Mike’s chest, the other man’s breaths and heartbeat were relayed directly to him. The warmth of the other man’s body soaked into his skin from top to toe. “You’re mine now,” Mike whispered. It should have sounded like a threat, but it didn’t. To Carl, it just felt like reassurance and possession all wrapped up into one fantastic bundle. He knew that Mike probably only said it because he’d made a fool of himself by asking if he was going to be thrown out. But, at the same time, Carl didn’t miss the way the other man’s grip had tightened around his collar as he said it. He wasn’t going anywhere, neither was Mike. He was Mike’s submissive. Mike was his master. And maybe Mike hadn’t said it just because he’d known Carl would like to hear it. Maybe he’d said it because he liked the way those words sounded, too. Carl smiled slightly as he let his eyes drop closed. His lips curved into an even wider smile when images appeared in the darkness behind his eyelids. There were only good pictures to be seen right then.

About the Author

Kim Dare is a twenty-seven year old, fulltime writer from Wales (UK). First published in December 2008, Kim has since released over thirty BDSM erotic romances. While the stories range from male/male, male/female to all kinds of ménage relationships and have included vampires, time travellers, shape-shifters and fairytale retellings, they all have three things in common—kink, love and a happy ending. Published since 2008, Kim also writes BDSM erotic romances for Total-e-bound.

Kim loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.kimdare.com.

Kim Dare’s Rawlings Men Series, Now Available at Resplendence Publishing

Handcuffs and Leather All Constable Hadley wants to do is put the last few weeks behind him. As if being taken hostage wasn’t bad enough, he’s had to deal with all the stupid publicity that’s surrounded him ever since. And the fact that he hasn’t slept since that night isn’t helping him feel any better about the world, either. The last thing Hadley needs is a shrink wandering around inside his head trying to dig up all his dirty little secrets. When he finds out he’s being sent to Dr. Rawlings—the man he’s had a crush on for months—Hadley knows his life has finally hit rock bottom. The only thing that could make things worse for Hadley would be Dr. Rawlings finding out how he feels about him. But fate wouldn’t be that cruel to him—would it?

Handcuffs and Glory Holes Police Sergeant Conrad Rawlings likes glory holes. As a dominant who’s never learned how to feel casual about even the most fleeting hook up, he’s learned to cherish the complete anonymity they provide. Still, when he hears a cubicle door open as he leaves the back room of a club, he can’t quite help looking over his shoulder. Submissive Willis Evans doesn’t know why his master ordered him to make sure the stranger from the glory hole sees his face before he leaves the club, but he knows the price for disobedience. Willis does as he’s told. The moment their eyes meet, he can’t help but hope he’ll be allowed to see the other man again. They are going to meet again, but it won’t be under conditions either of them could predict. Willis’ master has a plan—one which could easily break them both.

Handcuffs and Headlocks Undercover police officer Ed Rawlings isn’t just good at his job—he’s bloody fantastic at it. But there is such a thing as being too good at playing pretend. When reality refuses to come back, even when he’s off duty, something has to change for the hyperactive submissive. Could a no nonsense master be exactly who he needs to help him make those changes? Derby FitzGerald doesn’t do pretend. Losing track of reality when you’re teaching martial arts

would be bound to get very painful, very quickly. But maybe there’s such a thing as taking life too seriously too. Could a confused cop be precisely the right person to remind him of that?

Handcuffs and Trouble As the newest constable in the station, Trent Rawlings isn’t entirely surprised to find himself being hazed by the other cops. Determined not to make any more of a fool of himself than is absolutely necessary, he’s merely biding his time and going through the motions until he gets to the punch line. It has to be a hazing. If it’s not, he’s in real trouble. Kieran Osmond doesn’t know what the hell the little fool thinks he’s doing, stumbling into the middle of an undercover operation. All Kieran knows is that he has to rescue the younger man before he gets them both killed. Luckily for them both, Trent seems to be good at obeying orders and following a more dominant man’s lead. He may even be too good at it for Kieran’s peace of mind. Maybe Trent isn’t the only man who’s in trouble...

Handcuffs and Spreader Bars Harland Rawlings might have chosen to be a scene of crime officer rather than a “proper” policeman like so many of the men in his family, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hold his own with any cop who comes his way. Any evidence belongs to him until he says otherwise, and if a sergeant manages to roll around in evidence while tackling a suspect, then that man belongs to him until Harland has finished with him. Detective Sergeant Alasdair Grant doesn’t have good luck with men. He resigned himself to that fact after his ex turned out to be the worst kind of sadist, so he’s not best pleased when being processed by Harland gets him hot and hard and he has no way to hide it. When Harland offers to fetch a spreader bar if he doesn’t stop wriggling, he knows the other man is merely laughing at his expense. There’s no way the scene of crime officer could know how much Alasdair liked the idea. Harland can’t work out why Alasdair keeps blowing hot and cold, flirting one minute and running away the next. All he knows is that for some reason, even after the other man stopped being evidence, Harland can’t stop thinking of Alasdair as belonging to him…

Handcuffs and Ball Gags Police constable Andrew Rawlings is used to getting heckled while trying to maintain law and order at environmental protests. He’s not so keen on the guy shouting the insults being his flatmate, Ben. A protest is no place for a well-mannered school teacher, even if the guy is built like an ox. That’s why Andrew expressly forbade Ben from attending it, and Andrew isn’t used to his commands being disobeyed.

Ben has had enough of being bossed around by his best friend. He’s a grown man. If he wants to protest against the new motorway, he will. And, if Andy Rawlings doesn’t like it, well, he’ll just have to step up to the plate and start playing the dominant role full time, not just whenever it suits him. Nudity, spanking and ball gags—the punishment for civil disobedience has never been so much fun.

Also Available from

Resplendence Publishing

Duck! by Kim Dare Raised among humans, Ori Jones only discovered he was an avian shifter six months ago. Unable to complete a full shift until he reaches his avian maturity, he still can’t be sure of his exact species. But with species comes rank, and rank is everything to the avians. When a partial shift allows the elders to announce that they believe Ori to be a rather ugly little duckling, he drops straight to the bottom rung of their hierarchy. Life isn’t easy for Ori until he comes to the attention of a high ranking hawk shifter. Then the only question is, is Ori really a duck—and what will his new master think when the truth eventually comes out?

Backing Brian by Cheryl Dragon Once a Texan, always a Texan and Brian Beaumont has come back home to open his high-end western wear shop. Not everyone is thrilled with the gay son of a Texas millionaire opening a clothing store. Lucky for Brian, his new brother-in-law sends protection from Raider’s Bodyguard Service. If only Brian could resist the hunky muscled Texas native assigned to guard his body day and night. Jones never wanted to go back to Texas. He left at eighteen for many reasons, but his career is more important than the demons of his past. Always a professional, he meets his match in the tempting Brian. The line between business and pleasure vanishes when their mutual love of sex, rope and power play takes over.

In For a Penny by Carol Lynne What’s the old saying…you can never go home again? Raven Black resigned himself to never returning after being ordered from the only real home he’d ever known. Now, seven years later, Raven is back to face the man who sent him away. Zane Conner is not only Raven’s foster brother but the only man Raven ever loved. Despite his mixed feelings about the situation, Raven can’t deny Zane when the older man asks for his help in saving the Lazy C Bar Ranch. A boy found dead on the ranch clinches Raven’s decision.

Why did the young boy look so much like he had at that age—the same age he’d been when his own father had beaten him and left him for dead?

The Mark of Cain by Cash Cole After a night of hot sex with an elusive Native American, Gage is left with a bullet wound and a scarred shoulder from where a panther slashed him. The New Orleans police tell Gage that his lover morphing from man to beast is highly improbable and that whoever broke into his hotel room left no trace evidence, but Gage knows he hasn’t imagined any of this. He starts with the only clue he has, the name of a town in Oklahoma where his lover said he was born. But can he track down sexy Cain, who is in witness protection, before the assassins find and kill them both?

Possession by SW Vaughn Devlin Island Series: Book One Sully Shaw is one of three – a coven of gay male witches on Devlin Island, charged with protecting the place from the ancient gate between worlds, deep in the woods, that sometimes lets evil things escape. Sully’s job is to banish demons and spirits – which works for him, because after his last disastrous relationship, he’d rather not deal with people. Until a gorgeous stranger crashes on his private beach and needs his help. Troy Landry was just out for a vacation, and maybe a fling, on Devlin Island. What he didn’t bargain for was crashing his boat on the beach, finding a hot naked man who claims to be a witch, and getting possessed by a demon who takes over his body when he falls asleep. The demon can’t be driven out until dawn – so Troy and Sully have to stay awake all night long. Lots of sex helps. But when they start falling for each other, incredible sex might not be enough to overcome Troy’s insecurities, Sully’s past trauma, and a demon bent on releasing its brethren and killing any mortal who stands in its way.

Moon Princess by Suzanne Graham As Celina Maddock left the office on a Friday evening, her coworker jumped into her car and demanded she get on the highway and drive fast after their sizzling kiss in the parking lot. She never imagined she’d get the gorgeous Barrett Osborn ordering her around; however, when he starts talking about Shadows, werewolves, and werebears, she becomes a little worried about his mental health. When Barrett’s lover, Stan Varka, offers his assistance in escaping the Shadows, Celina goes along with their strange story about shapeshifters, because finding herself the center of their attention becomes extremely erotic.

Once they’ve finished their night of playacting, Celina doesn’t think she could possibly have a future with these two amazing lovers¼until they convince her that she really is the Moon Princess and the only hope for establishing peace between the wolves and the bears.

Ryland’s Sacrifice by Kim Dare Principles don’t pay tuition fees. When Ryland’s math scholarship disappears overnight, he has two choices. He can borrow money from fellow student Jason Burrows, who has very interesting ways of collecting debts. Or, he can volunteer to be thrown to the werelions. One night spent playing the part of a willing human sacrifice will give him enough money to finish his PhD. It seems like a good deal-right up until the moment he finds himself naked, blindfolded, bound and surrounded by lions.

Bedtime Story for a Stolen Child by Ana Mayle Stolen away from his cradle as a child, Leinad has been a plaything of the Faerie for thirty years. He has been broken and put back together so many times that he cannot even remember what he used to be. He has given up all hope of escape, until a soft breeze through his cell leads him home, only to find out that home has gone on without him. A man with Leinad’s face is there in his place, with his siblings, acting out his life. A changeling. The creature who enabled his imprisonment and torture for all those years. Daniel Tessel is a thirty year old folklorist. He is meeting his brother and sister at their family cabin, to spend the anniversary of their parent’s deaths together. His biggest worry is the séance his little sister is insisting on, and trying to stave off her inevitable disappointment. That is, until he looks up during the ritual to see his own face watching him from the window. He is pulled into the consequences of a plot he cannot even remember, accused of stealing his own life. Confused, angry, and frightened beyond reason, Daniel tries to escape from Leinad, but there is something pulling them together. Revenge and passion are two very similar things. Blood sings, lust and tempers rise, and before they know it, neither is quite sure who the real monster is anymore. Or if it will even matter in the end.

Tropical Hedonism by Dakota Rebel After a boating accident, Sean Harris wakes up staring into the eyes of a handsome doctor. Even when he discovers that he is on an island within the Bermuda Triangle, and there is no way for him to get back to his old life, he can’t be too disappointed if it means being stuck with the doctor.

Dr. Wesley Carpenter cannot believe that the younger Sean Harris would want anything to do with him. After half-heartedly turning down the advances of his patient, he realizes that resistance is futile. The men find themselves falling for each other quickly, but ghosts from their pasts and outside influences try to get in the way of their happiness. Sean and Wesley may be on the island forever, but neither is sure if that guarantees they’ll be able to continue their Tropical Hedonism.

Mind F*cked by Mia Watts Sage has the ability to read minds, but only in high passion moments when thoughts transmit at a higher frequency. But the gift is double-edged. Sage is inordinately handsome. Some might even say he’s a walking orgasm. So what’s a half-breed to do when every person he meets seems intent on seducing him, and how will he know if the man he chooses will love him for more than his looks? Joe has never been the object of anyone’s lust before. Now Sage, the hottest guy he’s ever laid eyes on, has Joe starring in his sexual fantasies. It would be perfect if only Sage could shut up for one minute, and quit talking about his own hotness—or about how he can read minds. Meanwhile, Joe and Sage must secure the last three Zodiac Stones and prevent their theft while they wait for exhibition. Can they put their sexual tension aside long enough to stop a clever thief? And even if they do, will Joe’s heart be a casualty of their inevitable fling, or could Sage really be looking for more than a one-night stand?

Find Resplendence titles at the following retailers

Resplendence Publishing www.ResplendencePublishing.com Amazon www.Amazon.com Barnes and Noble www.BarnesandNoble.com Target www.Target.com Fictionwise www.Fictionwise.com All Romance E-Books www.AllRomanceEBooks.com Mobipocket www.Mobipocket.com 1 Place for Romance www.1placeforromance.com