Kyle’s a natural sub who builds dungeon furniture, yet has no interest in BDSM. It takes a hunky Dom to show him just what he’s been missing.
After Kyle’s partner of five years leaves him for another man on the night of their housewarming party, the shy, early-thirties carpenter needs to do a major reassessment of his life in addition to raising some serious cash. With no one to help him pay the lease on his Los Angeles condo, he worries how he’ll survive. His best friend sets up a meeting with one of the Doms and partners at Kiss of Leather, a gay BDSM club being built as a premier destination for those who want the best of the best.
Master Gavin not only wants the best—he demands it. When he meets Kyle, he assumes that part of the builder’s reticence to share anything personal with him must be due to his experiences with an abusive former Master. Not one to back down from a challenge, Gavin determines to break through the walls surrounding the beautiful man he can’t get out of his mind. He’s hopeful that once he convinces Kyle to sign an initial contract, Kyle might be the first sub to open up his heart.
Misunderstandings and accusations almost destroy everything between them before they have a real chance to begin. However, the true obstacle becomes not only whether Kyle will embrace BDSM as a lifestyle, but also whether he can handle a full-time D/s relationship with a big, bad, scary Dom who’s as sexy as hell.
Publisher's Note: This book is best read in sequence as part of a series.
General Release Date: 11th August 2015
“Thanks again, Marshall. This is going to help out a lot.”
Kyle glanced up at his friend of over ten years. Marshall wasn’t any taller than him, but Kyle had a tendency to keep his eyes lowered. It helped to control his annoying tendency to blush at the slightest provocation.
When Kyle had worked for Marshall’s dad—a house flipper who’d always needed a good carpenter on hand—Marshall had burst into Kyle’s life one summer on a break from college. Despite having completely different personalities, they’d immediately clicked. Once Marshall had graduated, he’d settled in North Hollywood, just over the hill from Los Angeles and Hollywood, and not too far from where Kyle had lived most of his adult life. Marshall had stopped by Kyle’s condo to give him the news that he’d gotten him some work on the side.
Marshall busily texted who Kyle assumed was one of his many friends and—or—admirers, his fingers flying over the screen. No doubt the social dynamo had plans for the evening. If Marshall had a shift at the trendy Galaxy Bar, where he not only bartended but possessed the title of mixologist, he probably wouldn’t have been nearly as excited. Kyle watched in amusement as every inch of his twinky body threw itself into the task of communicating with the mystery person on the other end of his phone. The way he bounced and twitched and swayed was like some sort of dance where only he could hear the music.
If I even had a tenth of his spirit, his outgoing personality, I probably wouldn’t be so lonely.
Kyle didn’t want to take it to the next level and add ‘boring’ to the list, but it was difficult not to. His closest friend never seemed to be without plans or a host of people wanting to be a part of those plans. Everyone craved Marshall’s company—he was the proverbial life of what seemed like a never-ending party. Kyle was just…Kyle.
At last Marshall’s fingers came to a halt, as if they’d become too tired to continue.
“What’d you say?”
Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle. Many of their conversations were carried out in the same way. It was difficult to keep the attention of a shooting star.
“I was telling you again how much I appreciate you suggesting me for the contract at your friend’s club.”
Marshall regarded him with a knowing smirk. “You mean my ex-Dom’s new, exclusive BDSM establishment?”
It didn’t matter how many times he discussed BDSM with Marshall—which was as little as possible, if he could help it—his cheeks would get even hotter than usual. One of his biggest wishes was that his shyness would leave him the way he’d hoped it would when he’d become an adult. At thirty-two, he despaired of it ever going away. He knew Marshall loved to tease him about it. Fortunately, he wasn’t a complete asshole and always appeared to know when to back off before he went too far.
Kyle worked extra hard to keep his tone and expression impassive. He’d be in trouble over the next few months otherwise. He had no idea how all the Doms and whoever else he might have to interact with would treat him. In his terrified imagination, they’d spot his vanilla ass from a mile away and maybe not want him to build any of the equipment for their club after all.
“Right. That.”
“You can say BDSM, you know. It’s not like you’ll conjure up the Bondage Fairy if you utter it out loud.”
If I didn’t need the money so damn bad… “That’s a relief. I was kinda worried about that.”
Marshall snorted laughter then jostled him with his elbow. “You’ll be fine, you idiot. You’re an outside contractor, that’s all. You’re building the shit, not demonstrating it.” Marshall grinned with an unsettling leer. “Although what I wouldn’t give to see that.”
“Marshall…” Kyle needed to make it clear up front that he couldn’t be the comedy relief for all the Doms and subs at Kiss of Leather. “You didn’t tell Josh… I mean, nobody knows…” He bit the inside of his mouth reflexively, a bad nervous habit he immediately chided himself over.
“Hey.” Marshall furrowed his brow, his expression as serious as it ever got. “Don’t stress, hon. It’s one hundred percent professional. I didn’t say anything one way or the other about you other than you’re reliable, easy to work with and have a fast turnaround. No comments on whether or not you’re in the lifestyle. All I did was show them the spanking bench and the suspension scaffolding you did for me, and they were crazy impressed. I also told them about the additional pieces you did for the other guys I hooked you up with, and they’re sold.”
Kyle almost choked getting his words out. “Hooked up? You literally said ‘hooked up’?”
“Would you relax.” He shook his head. “When Gavin comes over, I know you’ll have no problem sealing the deal with him.” Marshall smiled, biting his lip as if recalling a particularly delicious memory. “Josh was especially surprised that I had my own equipment. Subs don’t usually provide their own bondage furniture. But when I play, I want the best. None of the Doms I go to have anything as good as your pieces.” He sighed dramatically. “If I had more money, I’d build a huge dungeon and force all the Doms to come to me.” He wrinkled his nose. “Except those guys don’t want to be told what to do—or where they can do it.”
Kyle had stared at the floor for most of Marshall’s speech. Once he’d gotten to the part where Marshall had complimented him, he’d trained his gaze right back on the white Berber carpet he hated so much. He lifted his head. “Uh, I wouldn’t know what Doms would or wouldn’t do. But, shit. You really said all that stuff about me?” Sure enough, the heat crawled up his neck and into his face.
“Sure, hon. It’s the truth.”
“I seriously can’t thank you enough. I’ve already blown through my savings the last three months making up for Roger’s part of the rent. There was no way I’d be able to pay it otherwise. Especially since…” He shrugged.
It was so fucking embarrassing. Because Roger’s job as a lawyer had paid so much better, he’d handled two-thirds of their three thousand dollar a month rent. Kyle had been in charge of the household chores, the shopping and cooking as the remaining part of his contribution.
“So how much longer do you have on that lease?”
Kyle rubbed his forehead, screwing his eyes shut. He still had a hard time believing any of it had happened. “Almost nine months.”
Marshall frowned. “Wait. How long of a lease was it in the first place?”
Kyle let his head fall back, staring at the vaulted ceiling of what was now his incredibly overpriced condo. Roger had fallen in love with the newly built luxury unit in what had seemed like mere seconds before he’d then fallen in love with some guy he’d only just met at their housewarming party. It had been so bizarre—he’d still been uncertain as to whether or not it was some sort of joke even as Roger had been carrying boxes of his stuff to the car.
Roger had graciously left behind his hideous designer furniture ‘to make up the difference’ on the rent. From Roger’s skewed point of view, the household items cost so much more than the remaining amount due on the lease that it’d been a fair trade. Unfortunately, though, the leasing company wouldn’t take a postmodern dining set to cover the rent. Kyle could’ve taken Roger to court, but between not being able to afford an attorney and Roger being an attorney, it had seemed like a futile effort. He also hadn’t wanted to waste any more energy on one of the worst moments in his existence, so he’d decided to suck it up and move on with his life.
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