Warning: contains m/m sexual situations and one light BDSM scene.
When Ian Stiller goes to rescue his drunken friend from a BDSM club, he’s surprised to find himself attracted to the owner, Daniel Rose.
A killing spree throws the two men together when Rose decides he needs his favorite detective to help catch the murderer. Ian’s disguise as Daniel’s new sub takes a turn for the darker side when the undercover detective begins to suspect the killer is someone close to them.
Will Ian uncover the murderer or will Ian’s new lover be his last?
Ian Stiller snapped awake as his cell phone rang. As a vice detective he could hear his phone’s ringtone even in his dreams.
Reaching blindly he batted his hand around the top of the nightstand. His fingers brushed against the plastic case moments before he heard it hit the floor.
Ian leaned over the side of the bed stretching his body towards the small black case reaching…reaching.
“Ahhh!” With a loud thump he hit the hardwood floor. “Maybe I should’ve invested in some carpet.” He muttered to the cat peeking at him curiously from under the bed. Henry purred and brushed his long fur up against Ian’s face. Ian snorted the fluffy strands of fur from his nose, grabbing his cell phone as it started to ring again.
“Ian.” A familiar voice on the other end sobbed. “Gary left me.”
Ian disconnected and laid his cheek against the cool wood looking idly under his bed. Damn there was a dust bunny revolution going on.
He made a mental note to hire a housekeeper. It might be a luxury but he didn’t have a lot of time or energy to spend his salary so he might as well make sure the dust bunnies didn’t eat his cat.
The phone rang again.
A glance at the readout told him it was his friend Keith again. What the hell did Keith want? Ian wasn’t known for his empathy and he hated Gary anyway. To his logical mind it was a great solution to a bad relationship. Ian sighed and flipped open his phone. As he lay there he could feel particles on the floor pressing into his skin. He definitely needed a housekeeper.
“You hung up on me!” Keith said. There was a slur to his voice that told Ian his friend had definitely been drinking.
The detective in him went on alert.
“Where are you?”
“At the club.”
Even with Ian’s well-renowned detective skills he needed more information.
“The Twisted Rose.”
Ian bit back a curse. The Twisted Rose was the largest BDSM club in the northwest. Keith didn’t make the best decisions sober, god knew what he would do drunk in a bondage club while wallowing in self-pity.
“Be careful not to get in over your head with some big leather daddy,” Ian cautioned. He didn’t want to ask but he’d hate himself if he abandoned a broken-hearted friend and found out something horrible happened to Keith. “Do you need me to come get you?”
Keith sobbed into the phone. “Please.”
Ian sighed. This was why he kept to himself and didn’t make very many friends. Friends are too much fucking work. “I’ll be there in a few. How do I get in?”
Keith had told him in the past about the private club. They didn’t let anyone in without a membership or exclusive invitation. As far as he knew Keith had been a member since it opened three years ago.
“I’ll leave your name at the door as my guest.”
Ian hung up not bothering to say goodbye.
Sleeping in the nude made it easier to get dressed quickly. Thinking he would be returning in an hour or two Ian didn’t bother with underwear as he slipped on his favorite worn denim jeans with a hole below his ass and a few rips on his inner thighs. Shivering in the morning air, Ian completed the outfit with a tight red tee that outlined his muscular chest. As a cop, Ian kept himself in peak condition. The sight of the older cops with their desk job stomachs hanging out was a flashing caution sign to him of the importance of working out. Luckily once he worked to reach his top physical condition it was relatively easy to maintain.
Glancing at the mirror he ran his fingers through his thick auburn hair, grown straight and long from his last undercover job. He pulled it back with a rubber band exposing the thick rings piercing through both of his ears.
He sighed at his reflection. Dark circles underscored his bloodshot blue eyes and his two-day old scruff was a testimony to his exhaustion. Luckily he could get away with that kind of shit in Vice.
Fuck he needed more sleep.
Groaning in disgust, Ian grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
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