Welcome to the Twin Cities most exclusive BDSM club, THE DEN. Where every sexual fetish can be explored without judgment or risk of exposure. Release your secret desires and come join in the wicked play.
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Publication Date: 02-03-2014
Type: eBook & Audio
Genre: Erotic Romance
Length: Novel, 89,000 words
Series: Wicked Play
Buy the eBook
Buy the Audio Book
BOOK FIVE: BONDS OF DENIAL
It's been twenty years since Rockford Fielding's father punished him for kissing another boy. Now a grown man with a military career behind him, Rock continues to deny his true desires, even while working security at The Den, the most decadent sex club in town. But after a year of watching gorgeous Carter Montgomery come and go on the arms of other men, Rock can no longer resist the cravings he's denied for so long.
Carter has just four months left on his contract with an escort agency, and he doesn't know whether to feel relieved or afraid. Being an escort is all he knows. Adding to his confusion is the way his latest client, the sexy but stoic Rock, makes him feel things he hasn't wanted in years.
One charmingly awkward date turns into two and soon the men are meeting off the clock. But with Rock in the closet and Carter unsure how to pursue a real relationship, how can they build a future both in and out of the bedroom?
“I could not put Bonds of Denial down.” - 5 stars, The Jeep Diva Reviews
“I loved everything about this book.” - A+, Smitten With Reading
“I absolutely loved this story from start to finish… Bonds of Denial has been added to my very
exclusive favorites list! - Stilettos (Must Read), Chicks After Dark
“This was a perfect read; fantastic characters, a wonderful romance, a captivating and believable
story and lots of realistic angst.” – 5 stars, More Than A Reading Journal
“This is a slow-burn relationship that I thoroughly enjoyed from beginning to end.”
- 4.5 stars, The Blogger Girls
“…this novel is by far my favorite.” - 4 stars, Paige Matthews Reviews
“It was also one of the most difficult coming out books I have read.” - B, Fiction Vixen
“Bonds of Denial was an endearing, passionate read and one that you should check out today.”
- 4 stars, Biblio Belles Book Blog
“I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED this story!” - 5 stars, LeAnn’s Book Reviews
“A beautifully written romance filled with emotional conflict.” - Confessions of a Book Addict
“…as a standalone M/M novel this definitely works… and I LOVED IT!!!”
– 4.5 stars, Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews
Copyright © 2014 by Lynda Aicher. Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.
Damn it. He didn't want to fuck tonight.
But he had to.
Carter Montgomery shifted his car into Park and took a moment to let go of the resentment as he waited for the valet to open his door. Anger was pointless when there was nothing to be done about it. He rolled his head, pulled his shoulders back and exhaled. The stretch eased the tightness that threatened to morph into a major tension headache. He definitely didn’t need that tonight.
A waft of frigid wind gusted into the warm interior with the opening of the car door. “Evening, sir,” the lanky valet said, voice clipped and efficient, cheeks tinged pink from the cold.
Carter gave a warm smile as he stepped out and handed over the keys. He let the last of his frustration slip away with the action. “Thank you.”
He tucked his scarf into his coat, smoothing it down against his suit jacket beneath. The covered area offered protection from the flurry of snowflakes that had been falling since late afternoon, and the heat lamps warded off the icy air that was known to freeze nose hairs in a second. Minneapolis could be brutal in January for those who weren’t used to it. Having lived in the land of ten thousand lakes for the last twelve years, it didn’t bother him. Complaining about the weather was a useless waste of energy, much like being angry over his job.
The hotel was on the high-end of the luxury scale, which was what he’d come to expect. This particular hotel was a favorite of one of his regulars. Large enough for a person to remain anonymous and classy enough to be discreet, even if the staff suspected something. Proof that money could buy privacy.
He kept his hands deep in the pockets of his wool trench coat, his chin up as he made his way through the sleek lobby to the bank of elevators. An inconspicuous check in the line of mirrors along the wall confirmed he looked good, as did the appreciative glances from a cluster of women standing to the side.
The short wait for the elevator gave him time to send a quick check-in text to the agency. He scrolled through the text messages, confirmed the information he’d already memorized, silenced the ringer and slipped it into his inside suit pocket as the elevator doors slid open.
It’d been over three years since he’d walked blind into an engagement, but it was far from his first. That didn’t dispel the small knot of tension that sat low in his stomach. His client was an unknown, which meant his evening was too. He’d gotten comfortable with his select list of regulars. A list he’d worked seven years to cultivate and nurture. He knew exactly what to expect with each one.
Tonight was a clean slate that could go anywhere. He had to admit there was an element of excitement in that aspect.
He expelled a long breath, adjusted his coat collar and used the rest of the short ride to settle into the right mental space. He could usually classify a client within moments of meeting, based on appearance, visible nerves, room setup and the first words spoken. It was his job to adjust accordingly.
Most people didn’t get the art and challenge of what he did. He didn’t rise to the top of his field by providing a one-size-fits-all service. The true work was in being whatever each client wanted him to be. Shy, confident, submissive, dominant, talkative, quiet—that was him. Anyone could fuck. He was a fantasy come true.
And in order to be that, he needed to be at the top of his game. He’d deal with his irritation with the agency later.
The fact that this client had specifically requested Carter and hadn’t flinched at his rate suggested he was referred by someone. But who? None of his regulars had said a word to him and the agency hadn’t supplied the information, if they knew it.
The pricey hotel indicated the client had both money and influence, but it didn’t say squat about personality, appearance or desires.The elevator doors swished open and he stepped into the ammonia-scented hallway. He unbuttoned his coat, popped a breath mint, checked the room numbers and followed the industrial brown-print carpeting to his destination.