Bad boys, bad boys
When Vice Detective Del Hood receives a call out to investigate a muscular, tattooed man in black hanging around the entrance to a sex shop, he believes the smart-mouthed Danny Rose is trouble with a capital T. Problem is the moment he pats him down and runs his hands over his hard body, a connection between them sizzles.
Could Danny be the arrogant, wisecracking sub of his dreams?
Reader Advisory: This Gay Romance series contains scenes of BDSM and hot sexy undercover vice cops out to find their perfect subs.
PUBLISHER NOTE: M/M BDSM Romance, containing themes of flogging, and bondage. 14,919 words
“Spread ’em.” I shoved the guy against the hood of my SUV and kicked his legs apart. He’d made the owner of the sex shop nervous by hanging around for over an hour. The call had come in, and I’d sat in my car watching him for twenty minutes. This guy posed a threat and was as sure as hell casing the joint, or waiting for the chance to mug someone.
“What the fuck?” The big man resisted, but when he turned his head, his eyes widened at the sight of my shoulder holster. “You a cop?”
“Shut the fuck up. I’ve observed you loitering with intent outside this establishment, so best you cooperate.” I bent him over nearly drooling as the tight denim hugged his muscular thighs and peachy ass. Man, he smelled so fucking good too, all freshly showered and spicy. “You carrying?’
“I’m gonna pat you down.” I dragged his hands behind his back then ran my fingers over his chest and down his long legs. Oh, fuck, making an arrest is the last thing on my mind right now. Visions of him spread out naked in my dungeon, angry and spitting fire filled my mind. I rested one hand on his rounded butt reluctant to stop touching perfection. The way he wiggled under my palm made my heart race. I ground my teeth to push down the overpowering desire to drag my thumb up the seam between his ripe buttocks just to see his reaction.
“Who the fuck are you?” The man shot me a look over one shoulder and pinned me with a fierce blue gaze. “Take your fucking hand off my ass.”
I straightened and easily spun him around to face me then pulled out my creds and flipped open the holder. “Detective Del Hood, Vice. Show me ID.”
“Why?” The man folded his arms over his chest and glared at me. “I haven’t done anything wrong. This is police harassment.”
I moved into his personal space, and his submissive reaction filled my cock so fast my head spun. “Give me your name, boy.”
“Fine.” He lifted his gaze from my shitkickers, took out his wallet, and produced a driver’s license. “Danny Rose. Now what law have I broken?” He looked up and glared at me defiantly. “If you’re not arresting me, I’m leaving.”
I glanced at the license, and twenty-three and six-two of hot sub dropped his lashes as if waiting for instructions. God, give me strength. Allowing my gaze to move over him, I stared for a slow count of five on the bulge in the front of his pants. He’d obviously enjoyed my domination, and out in the street with people looking on, he’d shown an exhibitionist streak. Nice. I returned to examine his strong features and fashionable stubble. Shit, I could almost feel the rasp of it against my lips. When he lifted his head, I caught a flash of arrogance in his eyes. He’d submitted to me and maybe the idea kind of worried him. A big strong guy giving up control to a cop would take some doing, but I’m sure he felt the crazy connection flare between us the moment I touched him. No matter what, I couldn’t let him walk away without having a taste.
I moved closer and could hear his sharp intake of breath. I unbalanced him, aroused him, but would he submit to me without the badge? “Well, Danny Rose, I want to know what you are doing hanging around the back door of a BDSM club? I know you’re not one of the usual rent boys, and trust me, the locals don’t like new guys taking their spot.”
“I’m not a fucking rent boy.” Danny stared at him and swallowed hard. “I’m looking for my brother.”