by Adira August
Hunt & Cam4Ever, Book 1
Sometimes it's the cop who needs to hit the floor.
SEX, GAMES & MURDER ~ Want to play?It was munch night at the most elite underground BDSM club in the Rockies. Relaxed and informal, highlighted by the weekly Matchstick Challenge game.
Detective Sergeant Hunter Dane, reigning champion, looked forward to a relaxing evening to start his 3 days off. A few beers on the deck. An interlude with a sweet sub. Stumping a challenger with a new puzzle. Home early for a decent night's sleep.Some people are SO deadly serious about their games.Now Hunt has a fresh body and a new puzzle to solve in twenty-four hours if he wants to find a killer.
A police procedural with a liberal dose of M/M hotness. Which means our fave full-metal Dom shows up to collect on Hunter's offer of his ... coffer. So to speak. There are puzzles for the reader and mysteries to be solved. Based on characters introduced in the short story On His Knees. For adults.
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Once inside the club, I couldn’t deny what I was looking for. Who. The realization shallowed my breathing.It was a summer evening, the sun half set. I was making my way to the door with a drink to find a deck chair and keep an eye on whoever came up the stairs. Decide what I wanted after sunset.The door opened before I could touch it. A young man backlit by the setting sun. Golden. Idealized male beauty wrapped in an invisible cloak of incredible power. Careless of it. He scanned me and smiled. It was the kind of moment that called for locked gazes. Instead, he happily looked me over like I was a pastry display and he was deciding which succulent treat to select.Camden Snow was fresh from deep powder and Olympic triumph. Exuding health and vitality and bonhomie and danger. And I wanted to give him everything simply because he existed. And looked at me.He reached out and put a hand on the side of my neck, his thumb skating lightly along my jawline and down, across my larynx. My insides turned to water.Don't pick me. Please.His eyes narrowed a little as if he'd heard. His hand tightened — scarcely, definitely — and withdrew."Kneel for me when you’re ready," he said.And was gone.FOR TWO YEARS Cam’s sporadic appearances caused club-wide speculation. Cam demanded all. No negotiations. No safewords. He didn’t want compliance or submission. He accepted only complete surrender.So I’d never knelt for Camden Snow, though often hungry for the release only another man could bring me—the safety of control that excited and humiliated me—the pain I feared and longed for. But I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t. I had limits. Hard limits.Cam was limitless.When he was in the club, I'd find his weighted gaze on me when I entered. Passing him was like wading through a forcefield.TONIGHT, AS ALWAYS, he was already aware of me, waiting for me to find him. Surrounded by admirers, men and a few women. He smiled at me.This time I didn't look away.Cam stopped smiling. His gaze slid down my pecs and abs like a strong, warm palm. I felt myself opening to him right there, half-blocking the way of people coming in behind me. My body turning more fully toward him, my arms falling loosely, palms up.Cam's chin came up, his head back, his gaze direct. You know my terms.A frisson of fear spiked adrenaline through my system. Part of me tightened in preparation to flee—other parts in preparation for something else. I could still walk past him.We opened the door with a pry bar. Another bedroom. A single closet. A messy bed. Huge pictures on the wall, like rock band posters …Cam remained relaxed in the curve of the banquette. His arms stretched along the back with his legs extended and crossed at the ankle spoke a relentless patience I was helpless to contend with.... but these were pictures of screaming faces and ripped-open bodies. He'd slept here; his victims' torment brought him peace.Those nearby quieted, aware of the by-play between Cam and myself. Anticipating. Knowing he did what he wanted in private or public.Merciless.He tilted his head. Well?The closet door squeaked as I pulled it open ...The last thing I needed was mercy.I dropped to my knees.
An epic love story. A murder came a few days later sparking an unlikely romance and investigative partnership. The Hunt&Cam4Ever series now spans 7 books and counting.
Hunter Dane went to his knees for me. Camden Snow stopped breathing for a moment. Everything else receded: the club, the music, the people. Only Hunter remained, bright in a nimbus of light, a single player on the stage of the world, waiting for his cue.
The sight of him, straight and tall even with his head bowed, made Cam so hard so fast he thought his cockhead would breach his zipper. Hunter was the one he watched for. Dark. Damaged. Sculpted. Haunting and haunted. He moved with the confident grace of a man not just fit, but field-tested.
Cam longed to shatter him, so all his fiery molten interior exploded outward. He'd wanted it from his first sight Hunter Dane, stunned by the depth of the dark man's raw need for his own obliteration. Cam knew instinctively how to get him there.
Now, Hunter Dane waited on his knees and it was up to Cam to break him. At twenty-one, Cam had known how. But two intervening years honing his skill and confirming his instincts on the cries and bodies of other men, gave him the experience to break the powerful Dane without crushing him.
Hunter Dane was a control freak among subs; his limits exact and inviolable. His obedience calculated to the millimeter. Hunter hid himself inside himself and used a Dom far more thoroughly than any Dom used him. And so, until tonight, he’d walked past Cam, knowing the “Full Metal Dom” brooked no boundaries.
He became aware of a bit of low laughter and a rising murmur around him. The crowd was restive, expectant. But Cam never hurried. Every man he took trusted him completely. And every one deserved the very best he could give them.
For Hunter, complex and caged inside himself, Cam remained poised at the gate. Until he saw his line all the way to the finish, he would not begin. The members looked back and forth from the dark figure on the floor to the blond sex god who seemed to be ignoring him for a more interesting text. A second low laugh reached him.
Chez Cannon appeared from the back of the club. Cam gave a slight lift of his chin, and Chez hurried to his table. He leaned over to hear Cam’s whispered instructions. Chez nodded he understood and moved off toward the play rooms.
Camden Snow stood up.
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