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