Greg is a stud. He’s a solid guy, a police detective and has a wonderful lover, Brody. He is nobody’s boy.
Some cases are harder to let go of than others though, and when Greg has days where he can’t leave the bad stuff at work, Brody turns into Master Brody and gives Greg exactly what he needs to find peace.
Fight it as he might every time he comes home to find a note telling him to assume the position, Greg needs his Master to step up and prove just how much Brody’s boy Greg really is.
Here's a smutty excerpt from Smutterday.
And here's another, less smutty excerpt:
I hate this.
I hate coming home from a bad case to the house being dark, the doors to the main rooms closed up tight and a single cream colored envelope sitting by the table in the entryway. There is a single word written on the front.
Goddamn it. I hate that Brody just decides that it’s time to... to... I grab the envelope and open it with a growl.
Lock your weapon away in the safe. Strip down and come to the first landing. Blindfold yourself and assume the position. You are mine for three days.
I shake my head. No. No way. I have paperwork to do. Cases to worry about. “I don’t have time for this shit.” I’m tired. I’m hungry. I don’t feel like playing games.
Why the fuck am I locking my piece in the safe? Removing my so-sensible shoes, my belt, and my shirt? What the fuck is wrong with me?
Him. It’s him. Master Brody. Damn it. Just Brody.
Only if it was just Brody I wouldn’t be pulling down my pants and removing my socks. I wouldn’t be climbing the stairs stark-fucking naked.
There’s a little table there with a dark blindfold, that’s it. A fucking blindfold.
My hands are shaking as I put it on. “I don’t want this! I have things to do!”
Then I settle on my knees, legs spread wide, hands behind my head, clasped on my neck. There’s no answer to my angry words, but I can suddenly feel eyes on me. My instincts are good, I can always tell when I’m being watched, but with Brody it’s different. I mean, damn, it’s like a touch. A goddamned touch that moves over my entire fucking body.
I know he sees every inch of me, too. He’ll see that I’ve lost five pounds, that I need a shave, that my muscles are tense and jumping. Speaking of jumping, I nearly jump out of my fucking skin when his hand ghosts across my shoulders.
“Mmm. Sweet baby boy, so nervous.” His voice is deep, as dark as his skin and rich as velvet. “You’ve been working a bad case.”
I can feel his breath against my ear.
“It’s over now and it doesn’t exist anymore. Nothing exists but what I allow. Because here, now, you’re my boy.”
I open up and he presses a finger into my lips. “Suck.”
Oh. Oh, fuck. Yes. I start pulling, sucking hard.
“Good. Needy boy.” He presses against my back and I can feel that he’s as naked as I am, his cock hot and hard and huge as it slides along the side of my neck. My cock is already more than half-hard, and the suction is getting to me, badly.
“Such a hungry cocksucker.”
I don’t want them to, but his words make me harder.
“Gonna shave you, plug you, decorate your pretty prick. Gonna blister your ass and make you burn. Bring you home to me.”
Oh, shut up. Shut. Up.
smut fixes everything