Today on the site we have a sexy teaser from JR Gray’s newest m/m BDSM release, Say Yes, which just released on July 24th! Check it out:
He tried to be what they wanted.
He tried to deny it.
He tried to be a good Catholic boy…but it’s become too much.
He craves pain, submission.
He’s denied himself far too long, and it’s eating him alive.
Charles thrives off the exchange of power. He knows the world revolves around control. It’s given and taken like currency, in business and in pleasure. He won’t get attached, though, or so he tells himself, until James turns his world upside down. He’s defiant and snarky, but Charles can taste the submission on him.
Charles holds the key to his salvation but James has to Say Yes.
“It’s my job to get you out of your suit, not for you to get me out of mine.” His dark green eyes shone in the low light behind rectangular glasses. He had such a thing for glasses. Charles knew he was being toyed with. It was an unusual sensation for him as he usually did the toying.
“It’s not going to be any work at all for you to get me out of my suit. I think yours will be the challenge.” He undid his belt, and James’ eyes went to his groin. He’d known James was into men. He had a sense for these things.
“You’re not going to get me out of mine.” So cocky. It would be fun to break him of it.
“We seem to be at an impasse.” Charles pulled his belt from his loops and halved it in his hand. He could already see the marks on James’ pale skin.
“It appears so.” He surprised Charles and took the belt from his hands as he stepped past. “This belt looks so worn. Let me find you a stiffer model.” James flashed another smile, showing large canines and a mouth full of gleaming white teeth before he exited the room.
Charles gripped himself. There was only one thing he loved more than submission: having to work for it.
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “What has you so tense?”
If he didn’t get out of his funk he was going to have to call a professional. “You don’t want to know.”
She raised one of her dark brows into a perfect arch. “A female has you this way?”
“No.” He didn’t elaborate.
“Mister Walton, you have a Mister Bennet here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he says he has a tie for you?”
Charles groaned. “Everything with her is a question,” he said to Scarlett before he remembered what she’d been calling about. He perched forward to press the intercom. “Send him in.” He looked at Scarlett again. “Out.”
She pulled back, giving him a look. “Interesting.” She looked James over as she slipped past him to leave the office.
James was in light gray slacks. He strolled into the office like he owned the place. Another thing only wealth could instill. Breeding. He was comfortable here, not at all intimidated. He was an enigma.
“Your tie, as promised, Sir.” James laid a box on his desk with a knowing smirk.
Charles shifted in his seat, suddenly wishing he wasn’t so disheveled from his lunch break. “I was starting to wonder.” He didn’t move to take the box. “What do I owe you?”
James shook his head. “I wouldn’t hear of it.” He turned to go.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I have to get back to the lower west side. I have a class.” He wore a wolfish grin.
So cocky for someone so young. He was dressed subtly today, slacks and a button down but no tie. It was a shame.
“Class?” Charles leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee.
“You’re a professor?” He knew they didn’t get paid much, but still to sell suits on the side? It didn’t make much sense. Another layer he needed to pull back to figure him out.
“Nope, I’m a student there.”
Charles looked at him again. Was he really that young? “You can’t be.”
“Do I not look smart enough?” James looked out his window. The office was the penthouse with quite a view of the park and city.
“You don’t look young enough.”
Charles kept himself still with some effort. “I would have guessed twenty-seven at the youngest. Tell me what a college student at NYU is doing selling suits.”
“You don’t think my job is good enough?” “I never said that.”
“Maybe I’m a design student there.” Charles laughed. “I don’t think so.”
He shrugged, and Charles knew getting anything out of this one was going to be difficult.
“But you don’t know, do you?” James turned abruptly and headed for the door. “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Walton.”
He got to his feet. “I didn’t properly thank you for the tie.”
James looked over his shoulder, letting his gaze drift down Charles’ form. “I think you will. I’m just not going to make it easy for you.”
In the span of minutes, James had seemed to do what no one else ever could to Charles: figured him out.
When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half assumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns.