The New Boy
Tide Germaine is a model and a Dom. He and his best friend Tyrone opened The Iron Eagle Gym as a place for gay men in the lifestyle to work out, do scenes, and congregate with like-minded men. The modeling is just another job for Tide, but it soon turns into a grand seduction as Tide falls for the shy, self-conscious photographer. The problem is Lance doesn’t believe he’s in Tide’s league, and he’s not at all sure about the Dom and sub thing.
It’s not going to be easy, but Tide’s going to have to convince Lance he belongs at Tide’s side as both lover and sub.
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Suddenly, Tide was kissing him again, lips pressed to his, tongue teasing its way between them. Lance pushed into Tide’s body, his belly tightening. Tide’s arms went around him, bringing him to the edge of the chair, the kiss never breaking.
This was a mistake. A bad mistake. A wonderful erotic mistake.
Tide could kiss. He was a fucking master of kissing. Tongue invading his mouth, Tide tasted him. He reached out, hands finding Tide’s shoulders. His legs bracketed Tide’s torso, his cock hard and throbbing against the solid abdomen.
This couldn’t happen. It couldn’t. No way.
But it was. Tide was kissing him and Lance was letting it happen. No, he wasn’t just letting it happen, he was beginning to kiss Tide back. He rocked closer, moaning deep in his chest. Tide’s solid hands moved down to his ass, cupping it, and it was like his ass was made to fit in them.
This was a dream, right? A perfect, hungry fantasy?
Tide’s groan filled his mouth, vibrating inside him. He wouldn’t have imagined that.
Tide squeezed, lifting him slightly, rubbing him against that fantastic body.
He had to stop this. He had to. This was insane.
Sucking on his tongue, Tide kept the kisses going. Insane or not, it was happening.
“Master, look at that. It’s like magic.”
Oh God. Bran and Tyrone were there. He’d totally forgotten they weren’t alone. Lance pulled back, groaning deep in his chest in mortification and in the loss of that mouth.
Tide cupped his face. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed.”
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t. This is my job.”
“No.” It was Tyrone this time. “This is more than your job. Even Bran and I can feel what’s going on between you and Tide.”
He was so fucked-up, so confused, and the only thing that made sense was Tide.
Tide took another kiss, this one slow and gentle. “You’re stunning, Lance. I can’t help being attracted, and I don’t even want to try.”
“I don’t know what to do now,” he whispered.
“That’s why I’m the Dom, darling.” Tide gave him a wink, hands soft as they moved over him.
He let Tide help him stand, move to the recliner in his bedroom. He thought he heard Tyrone murmur that lunch was on the way, but Tide’s hands on his body might have been interfering with his hearing. And then Tide kissed him again and he really didn’t care.
Tide held him, their lips clinging, breath mingling, and he was happy, warm. Safe. He wasn’t sure why he thought that, but he did. Tide could kiss, too. God, it was stunning how good he was at it.
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