I remember when I first got this cover from the publisher - I was SOOO happy :) It's still a favorite!
Secrets, Skin and Leather
And maybe get caught. When things go sour, Dal hits the road, running as far away as he can, trying to figure out how to minimize the damage to his life and his career. Dillon isn't quite ready to let him go, though, and sets out to get Dal back. Can Dillon convince Dal that some secrets are worth letting out of the bag?
Sean Michael creates an exciting world where business meets pleasure and all of the games have high stakes in this steamy novel. Wrap it up and take it home!
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It's also available in paperback
Dillon leaned back against the bar, a whiskey, neat, in his hand.
He'd been to the Golden Scabbard once or twice before. When he was bored, when the suits at work got to be too much and he needed to be out with people who knew how to have fun, how to let go.
The Scabbard hosted a wide variety of people, and in just a glance he took in goth boys and transvestites, leather-daddies with their boytoys, punks, sluts.
His own outfit of tight leather pants and a T-shirt was tame here, but it let him more or less blend in and just enjoy the view.
And what a view he had. The man he was looking at was stunning, wearing a pair of skin-tight, tissue-paper-thin jeans and a black leather cincher around his waist. The man's eyes were kohled, nipples rouged and hard.
Dillon's cock, at half mast since he'd walked in, slowly started to fill, pushing against the leather ties that held his pants closed.
He took a mouthful of his drink, eyes scanning the rest of the room in a slow perusal before coming back to the sexy minx in the cincher. The man was lean, broad shoulders tightening down into a perfect, tiny ass. A perfect, tiny ass that shook to the music like it was made for it.
Groaning, Dillon dropped his hand to his thigh, working hard to keep from sliding it along his prick.
His prick. That he could imagine plowing into that perfect little ass.
He started working out his game plan to make it happen.
Someone came up, kissed Mr. Perfect Ass good and hard before continuing on, leaving the group of men dancing together laughing and hooting. Oh, yeah, he wanted a piece of that. A nice, long, hard fuck.
He finished his whiskey and put the glass back on the bar, still watching, focused now. There was something familiar about the shape of Perfect Ass' jaw... Dark spiky hair, bright light blue eyes, lush laughing mouth -- where had he seen that face?
He ordered another drink, trying to work it out before he went to make his move and secure his entertainment for the night.
Come on, Dillon, look past the kohl, figure it out...
It was the way the light fell, shadowing the bright eyes and making the smiling face suddenly sharp-edged, stern.
It was Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass Proper Boy from the merger meeting he'd ditched earlier in the day.
No fucking way.
His eyes narrowed. Yes, fucking way. That was exactly who it was.
Who the Hell knew that prim and proper demeanor, the uptight face and stern business suits hid this?
Another man came up, took a kiss, hand putting a tiny silver clamp on one tight nipple.
No. No, that was his.
The surety of his thoughts surprised him. He came here and to other places like it for a quick fix of his boredom. For one-night stands. He never came here for more. But something told him he wanted this one for more than one night. Something in the way that tiny ass shook and those little nipples begged for more attention than just a clamp.
A new plan began to form in his head. One that included not only sliding into the sweet ass beneath the cincher, but debauching the prim and proper businessman as well.
Dillon finished his drink and slipped out of the club, riding the anticipation like a drug.
smut fixes everything