Bay Area Professionals
On his way home from vacation, Scott Gregory, a closeted sub, hooks up with the gorgeous Red, a flamboyant Dom, for a thrilling one-off at a BDSM bar. They part ways after a satisfying scene… but meet again when Robin Kennedy—Red—arrives at his new job as a dental hygienist and discovers one of his two bosses is Scott.
Robin and Scott embark on a journey of exploration into their kinkier sides and discover they’re more than compatible—they’re a perfect match. But keeping employer/employee and Dom/sub separate at the office presents difficulties, and to make matters even more complicated, the owner of the dental practice is an acknowledged homophobe.
They fall in love, but Robin chafes at all the secrecy, refusing to live in the shadows. Scott isn’t as brave; he’s desperate to protect his job and his future. Will they be able to find some middle ground… or will their entire relationship fall apart because of fear?
Cover Artist: Mara McKennen
Chapter 1
Scott stood at the entrance of the club, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lights, his body tightening with anticipation as music washed over him. Stopping in San Ramon had seemed like a good idea. He’d been browsing the Internet last night, searching for BDSM clubs, and this one had popped up with a three-star rating. He supposed that it was some kind of sign, since he’d have to drive right by it on his way home to San Francisco. He was on the last leg of a month long vacation, and right now he was looking for what he needed, hoping to end it with a bang.
So far nothing seemed any different. The music, the lights, and the men were nothing special. The dance floor was packed with hot guys gyrating against each other, shirtless or practically shirtless, in their wife-beaters and cutoffs, showing the bodies that were their only form of currency. The rippling muscles were so much a part of being an attractive gay man that one was almost compelled to appear naked to show off the merchandise.
On the surface, it looked like any other club, but he knew there was another area in the building where people could go to participate in a form of entertainment that was still considered deviant and perverse. This was the final frontier of sexual liberation, the dark side of loving that people hid away, considering it to be shameful and socially unacceptable. To Scott, it was as necessary as breathing.
He stood there in his faded jeans and simple black shirt scanning the room, hoping to see someone out of the ordinary. He didn’t plan on settling tonight. He’d already spent the whole month tolerating mediocre hook-ups for the simple reason that nothing better was around. He knew that his expectations were impossibly high and that so far everyone had fallen short. But he was the eternal optimist, the glass-half-full guy who was convinced that the man of his dreams did, in fact, exist. He was looking for the impossible. He wanted romance within a D/s relationship; a love connection with a strong and dominant man.
He tried to picture what someone else would see, watching him standing at the door. He was slightly older than the rest of the men here tonight, carrying his thirty-three years very well. He had high cheekbones, a smooth forehead, and a mop of honey-colored hair that he wore longer than most men in his profession, which only added to the illusion of youth. He ran a hand through it, pushing the strands out of his eyes, a habit that was so much a part of him.
He licked his full lips, making them appear even more enticing. His eyes were his trump card, the pièce de résistance that always got him the prize. When he settled them on a man of his choice, he was pretty hard to ignore. They were a clear green, the color of wet leaves after a spring shower, fringed by dark blond eyelashes.
Five minutes at the door convinced him that his side trip seemed like a waste of time. There was no one who attracted him. He decided to have a drink before making the trip back to the city, and he moved over to the bar and waited for someone to take his order. His eyes scanned the dance floor again, hoping he’d missed something, but there was nothing that was remotely interesting.
“What can I get you?”
He turned at the sound of the voice and stared into the blue eyes of the twenty-something-year-old asking the question. Scott was pleasantly surprised at the sight of the man looking at him expectantly. He had a light dusting of freckles on his nose and a mass of unruly curls in a burnished copper color. His teeth shone straight and white, always a plus in Scott’s eyes.
“I’ll have a Corona with a twist.”
“You got it.”
The bartender turned and pulled a bottle out and popped the cap, stuck a twist of lime into the opening and handed it to Scott. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Are you on the menu?”
He laughed quickly, a blush licking his cheeks. Scott was charmed.
“Not while I’m on the job.”
“What’s your name?”
“Red.”
“What time do you get off?” Scott was intrigued and was hoping to see some sign of interest on the other man’s part. He hadn’t moved from his spot in front of him, which boded well.
“My shift ends in thirty minutes.”
“I can wait, if you want me to?”
Scott saw the relief wash over Red’s face. “I’d like that,” he said, wiping up the counter and pocketing the change someone had left for him. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.”
“Sure thing.”
Red grinned and then winked at him before moving off to help another customer.
Scott spent the next thirty minutes alternately watching the dancers and turning back to observe Red. He seemed to have the art of bartending down pat, moving effortlessly from customer to customer. Scott took this opportunity to stare at him shamelessly, his eyes moving up and down Red’s body unobserved. He was wearing loose cargo pants and a light blue sleeveless T-shirt that was probably two sizes too small. It stretched across a torso that was well formed, showing off arms that bulged in all the right places. They were well defined but not grotesque, covered with a light layer of reddish fuzz, landscaped with the light brown freckles that usually plagued natural redheads. He tried to imagine what Red looked like without clothes on and was surprised at how quickly his body reacted to the visual.