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Drive My Car by Megan Slayer
M/M, BDSM, Anal Sex, Toys, Spanking, Bondage
Can the one being led, do the leading?
Miles Hornish has seen it all—men, women, ménages…but none of them make the grade. No, this self-made real estate magnate wants one person to share his wealth, his bed and his platinum handcuffs. No one seems to fit the bill—except his limo driver, Fynn. But Miles has issues in his past. Will Fynn be enough to help Miles overcome his past?
Fynn Gold likes his job chauffeuring Miles. What's not to love? Witnessing encounters in the back of the limo and being the one person Miles can trust…it's a dream job. Except Fynn wants more with Miles than endless miles on the road. He wants to be the only person in those shiny handcuffs. Can Fynn convince Miles he's ready to be more than just a driver?
Sometimes it takes the right pairing to make love work out right.
Reader Advisory: This book includes the use of sex toys, anal sex, BDSM play and a flogger or two.
Available at Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/drive-my-car
And a Hot Excerpt:
“I think I’d like to ride up front this time.” Miles slid forward and emerged from the back seat. “You ride up there all alone. Might as well keep you company for a change.” He opened the passenger door and plopped down on the seat.
Stunned, Fynn shut the back seat door and scurried around the back of the vehicle. Something wasn’t right. Miles never sat up front. Hell, Miles never said much more than directions to where he wanted to go and to ask about the weather.
Fynn opened the driver’s side door and sat down behind the wheel. “Where would you like to go, Sir?”
“Home, Gold. I’d like to go home.”
Miles clicked the seatbelt into place and noticed the item on the front seat. Ah, so that’s what Fynn does when he’s waiting. Miles touched the worn edge of the leather cover. Here I thought he watched me.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Fynn grabbed the iPad and opened the glove box. “I shouldn’t have had that out.”
“Why?” Miles turned in his seat to watch Fynn move. The younger man’s hands trembled. The aura of control slipped, revealing the truer Fynn.
“I’m protecting you when you’re out, not reading the latest by Cash Norman.” Fynn put the car into gear and edged out into the flow of traffic.
Miles focused on Fynn. He wasn’t about to let anyone see into his secret fear. No fucking way. Being in the front seat of the car sent shudders through his body. Instead of closing his eyes, he studied Fynn’s profile. If he closed his eyes, he’d see the accident again. Damn it, he’d relived the crash so many times in his brain, he wanted the whole thing to fizzle away.
Fynn sped around a corner and pitched Miles sideways in his seat. The move squashed him tight against Fynn’s shoulder. “Oh my God. I’m sorry.” Fynn gripped the steering wheel. “The traffic’s bad for this time of night. A ballgame must be letting out.” He came to a stop at the traffic light. “I’ll go a little slower.”
“It’s fine, Gold.” What a freaking great way to come on to a guy! Miles bit down hard on the tip of his tongue. So many other things popped up in his brain. I enjoyed leaning on you. Nice, but the sentiment sounded goofy. How about you take another corner that fast so I can stay tucked against you? Oh brother. Mind if I practically sit in your lap because riding in the front seat reminds me of the car crash that killed my first lover? He’d rather eat live bait.
Miles could almost hear his former lover laughing. God, Hornish. You’re a confident real estate mogul and a Dominant. Stop being a fucking pansy. Make a move or shut the fuck up.
Except he hadn’t said much at all.
“Gold, do you mind if I call you Fynn?” Miles balled his fists to keep the trembling at bay. From the ride or because he’d ventured into a new area of his relationship with Fynn? He wasn’t sure.
“Uh, that’s fine, Sir.” Fynn kept his gaze forward and his grip tight on the wheel. “You can call me whatever you’d like.” He maneuvered the car off the freeway and headed down the city streets to Miles’ mansion. The other mansions and estates twinkled in the bright moonlight. Splashes of color from the landscape lighting offset the pale hues from the moon.
Miles’ thoughts turned from the scenery to Fynn. Had Fynn watched him masturbate? Miles snorted. He sure as hell hoped Fynn had seen the show. The girls did nothing for him. Even Galen, his one-time fling, hadn’t set his pulse racing. No, only the sexy man behind the polished shades seemed to give him wood.
Within moments, Fynn drove down the tree-lined lane leading to Miles’ house. He stopped the car beside the main steps. “Home, Sir.”
“Thanks, Fynn.” Miles placed his hand on Fynn’s. “Come inside with me.”
Copyright Megan Slayer 2013