Thorne is a businessman and Dash is the escort he hires. But their relationship becomes far more than professional.
Summary:
Thornwell Shipton is wealthy, uptight, closeted, and an incurable workaholic. A tragic love affair left him terrified of relationships, so he tells himself sex is better scheduled and paid for.
Riley Dashwood is young, easy-going, and comfortable in his own skin. He’s a passionate baker and an aspiring chef, working as an escort to save up for culinary school.
They’re clearly made for each other.
When Thorne hires Dash, it’s lust at first sight. After a few scorching nights together, both men start to wonder if what’s between them is more than physical, but their age gap and resistance to romance make them afraid to change their professional relationship to a personal one. Dash pushes Thorne to admit he wants things he’s denied himself for years. Kinky things. Soft, caring things. Things that force him to open his heart, not just his body. To move forward, one or the other must take a risk and ask for what he really wants.
Summary:
Several months ago Thorne hired Riley as an escort. They fell hard for each other and ultimately made their relationship personal rather than professional. Every moment they spend in bed is pure bliss, but good sex can’t solve all their problems as they struggle to make things work between them. Thorne convinces Riley to move in with him, but their differences in age and income weigh more heavily on Riley once they share a home.
If that weren’t enough, culinary school is turning out to be a disappointment for Riley rather than a dream come true, and he’s considering the daunting prospect of starting his own business. Thorne wants to swoop in and fix everything, but Riley keeps refusing Thorne’s money or advice, feeling like he’s losing control over his own life.
Thorne and Riley will have to rely on their love for each other to help them find the balance between independence and entanglement.
Summary:
Thorne proposed to Riley. Riley accepted.
Thorne thought that was that. They’d take a nice trip, get married, and spend a week luxuriating in a five-star hotel with occasional excursions to fabulous restaurants.
Riley imagined a traditional wedding with all the trappings. With all their friends and family. At Christmas.
Thorne concedes reluctantly, and a flurry of wedding planning ensues. At the same time, Thorne is wrestling with a recalcitrant client, and Riley and his business partner, Susan, are consumed with renovations and planning for the opening of their bakery. Stress on top of stress makes both Riley and Thorne doubt their relationship, and a major misunderstanding nearly silences the wedding bells.
By the time they reach their happily ever after, they’re both going to deserve all the romance they’ve been dreaming of.
Professional Distance #1
Thorne’s intercom buzzed. “A Mr. Dash is here to see you. He says he’s expected. Shall I send him up?”
“Yes, Je-Michaels, thank you.” Michaels had only been working as a doorman in Thorne’s building for a few weeks, yet Thorne had lost count of the number of times he’d almost called the man Jeeves. Michaels’ British accent and starched appearance simply begged for it. Years ago he’d loved to watch and re-watch the Masterpiece Theatre version of Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster, with Clint, his—boyfriend was certainly not right, even lover didn’t fit—boss. His boss whom he’d occasionally fucked. Now, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched anything but videos of junior consultants’ meetings.
Two crisp knocks at the door signaled that Dash had made the long elevator ride to his penthouse apartment.
Thorne’s pulse sped up. He resented how very much he needed this respite from work, these moments where he actually let go of all his clients’ woes and indulged himself. Yet he kept paying for it, every week that he was in town. He imagined being fucked roughly, hands held down, as Dash whispered dirty words in his ear. By the time Thorne reached the door, he was already hard. Dash damn well better work out; but whether or not Thorne requested him to come back, he was going to get fucked tonight.
He checked the peephole out of habit, although Michaels and the other doormen were quite strict about checking credentials before allowing anyone in the building. The young man standing at Thorne’s door appeared to be in his early twenties, as were most of the service’s employees. He had dirty-blond hair that curled loosely and was longer than he could have worn it if he’d worked in Thorne’s office. His hazel eyes had a mischievous look to them that held promise. His smile, however, wasn’t at all what Thorne was expecting. It was fresh and sunny and it reached his eyes, a true smile, like he was meeting a friend, not conducting illicit business.
Quit trying to read so much into him. This isn’t a business meeting where you have to size up the clients. It’s a fucking hook-up that you paid for.
Thorne opened the door.
“Mr. Shipton?” the boy asked.
Thorne nodded and stepped back so Dash could enter.
“I’m Dash; Sheila told me you were a client of Marc’s.” Dash lifted the strap of the messenger bag he carried over his head and sat the bag against the wall in the entryway.
“That’s right,” Thorne answered. “He suited my needs perfectly.”
“And you think I won’t?”
Fuck. Was he that transparent or was this kid that good? “What I think is that the rapport I had with Marc was hard to find.”
“He’s a switch and a damn good one.” Dash’s look said he knew that from personal experience.
“Correct.”
“So am I.” Dash smiled, and Thorne reacted as if he’d wrapped his hand around Thorne’s dick.
Thorne’s gaze moved down Dash’s body. He was shorter than Marc, who’d matched Thorne’s six feet, maybe five feet nine or five feet ten. His body was lean but not without muscle. If Thorne had to guess, he’d say Dash was a runner. His tight black pants clung to his body, giving the impression he had a rather nice package.
“Shall I make you a drink while we discuss exactly what you’d like tonight?” Dash asked, wandering toward the kitchen.
It took a few seconds for the words to register in Thorne’s brain. Dash was…hot, fucking hot. But there was something else about him, something Thorne couldn’t define, that had Thorne salivating to get him naked and in bed. If Thorne believed in anything as hokey as “auras,” he would’ve said Dash had a powerful one. Thorne pushed the thought away, disgusted. Too much work and too little sex must have fried his brain. He’d been so busy that week he hadn’t even found time to jerk off.
“I don’t need a drink, and I don’t want to talk.”
Dash grinned and propped himself against the bar in the kitchen area, cocking his hip out. The pose was obviously calculated to make Thorne appreciate his slim waist. “That eager, huh?”
“I realize some people hire escorts for companionship. They want to know someone is listening to them. I’m sick of talking: to clients, to employees, to fucking airport desk agents. I don’t need you to pretend to be my friend. I need to be fucked.”
“Sure of that, are you?” Dash asked, walking around the bar and entering the kitchen.
“Yes.”
Personal Entanglement #2
Chapter One
Thorne pinned Riley’s wrists to the bed. “You like this? Like me turning things around and taking your ass?”
“Yes!” Riley struggled to get free. He tried to move his hips, to take Thorne deeper, but Thorne held himself still, cock barely inside Riley.
Thorne knew holding back was driving Riley insane.
“Why are you doing this?” Riley whined.
Thorne bit his lip, concentrating on not fucking Riley. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to push for more now that Riley was his… What? Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? He’d tried to be good, tried not to beg Riley to move in. He’d meant to wait and let Riley realize how good it would be for them to be together every night, but Riley wasn’t deciding fast enough to suit Thorne. And Thorne liked getting his way.
Just before they’d tumbled into bed, still half-covered in whipped icing, which should have been on a strawberry cake, Riley had said he needed to go home. He had an early morning, and it was easier to catch the train from his place.
Thorne had used his best weapon to keep Riley there: seduction.
“You want to come, don’t you?” he asked Riley.
“Thorrrrne.” The word was half exasperation, half raw lust.
“Say you’ll move in with me.” Thorne’s attempt at manipulation was so blatant, so ridiculous, there was no way Riley would say yes. Of course, Thorne would fuck him anyway, as if he could deny himself such pleasure.
He sank in a little farther, and Riley groaned.
“What happened to not forcing this?”
Thorne shrugged and smiled at him. “I got impatient.”
“You’ve been impatient.”
“I got desperate.”
Riley looked up at him. Soft, hungry, like he fucking worshipped Thorne. Then he flipped them, straddling Thorne and driving himself down, taking all of Thorne’s cock.
“Bastard!” Thorne shouted.
“A bastard who intends to get off. No more games.”
“You love games.” Thorne grabbed Riley’s hips and held them tight, trying to stop him from moving. “Just try it. You can move back in with Marc if it’s so bad, but really, wouldn’t you rather wake up like this? Aren’t you tired of going back and forth between our places? My car service can take you to school every morning.”
“Thorne.” Riley’s voice held a note of warning.
“Damn it, Riley.”
Riley moved up, working himself on Thorne’s cock.
“How about a bet?” Thorne asked. If he was going to push, he might as well go all in. “If you come first, you have to move in for a trial period.”
Riley shook his head. “That’s insane.”
Thorne flipped them again and thrust hard into Riley, making him gasp.
“Because you know you’ll lose.”
“I know nothing of the kind.” Riley squeezed Thorne’s cock with his internal muscles, and Thorne shuddered. “You’re a manipulative ass.”
Thorne raised a brow. “Did you just figure that out?”
“Are you asking to be punished?”
Thorne groaned. “Yes, and wouldn’t it be more convenient to give me what I deserve if all your toys were here?”
“Fuck, how do you know just what to say?”
Thorne didn’t respond. Everything he could think of to say would get him in worse trouble. Instead, he demonstrated just how much he was enjoying being the one doing the fucking.
When he knew Riley was close, he gripped his hips hard and pulled out oh-so-slowly. “Sleeping next to you is so good, so warm, so perfect. I want you here. All. The. Time.” He punctuated his words with quick thrusts into Riley.
“And you always get what you want?” Riley’s voice was breathless.
“Not alllllllways.” But most of the time.
Perfect Allignment #3
The maître d’ at Bavaria Haus recognized Thorne immediately. “I have your table ready, sir, and your server will bring out the wine you requested right away.”
Bavaria Haus didn’t take reservations unless you were Thornwell Fucking Shipton, and Riley noticed the dirty looks they received from several patrons who were waiting in the crowded lobby. One grumbled about entitled pricks loudly enough for Riley to hear, but if Thorne noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He’d likely heard worse complaints about his behavior that very day at the office.
A server appeared before Riley had a chance to say anything. He opened the wine and started to pour some in Thorne’s glass for him to taste, but Thorne waved his hand toward Riley.
“It’s my partner the wine should impress.”
The man nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Riley nearly laughed at Thorne’s satisfied grin. Thorne really did love when others did his bidding, which made it all the more special that he surrendered so beautifully to Riley.
Riley kept his eyes on Thorne as he sipped the wine, making a show of just how much he liked it. Thorne knew his tastes now: dry, red wine with berry overtones and a hint of smoke.
He sucked the wine off his bottom lip before setting his glass down. By then he was certain Thorne was hard and aching to adjust himself. He was practically panting. Riley might not be an escort anymore, but he hadn’t lost his seduction skills even if he only used them on Thorne now.
He looked up at the waiter. The man’s eyes were wide. Apparently, he wasn’t unaffected either. “Perfect.”
“I… I’m glad you like it, sir.”
The poor server nearly dropped the bottle as he attempted to pour a full glass for Riley. He regained his composure and completed the task, filling Thorne’s glass and then asking if they knew what they’d like.
Riley smiled at Thorne. “Have you chosen for us?”
Thorne relaxed under his attention. Of course he had, but he’d probably thought Riley would bristle at that. He used to, but now he knew it meant Thorne was trying to please him. If he really wanted something else, he could always speak up.
Thorne ordered kartoffelpuffer and beef rouladen, the same appetizer and entrée they’d first eaten here, despite the kartoffelpuffer not being on the current menu. He really was up to something.
When the waiter walked away, Thorne looked at Riley and smiled. “So you do remember?”
“That I ordered this on our first date? Yes.”
“Was that a date?” Thorne asked.
“We wanted to pretend it wasn’t, but yes.”
“I agree.”
Riley took a sip of his wine. “So…?”
“What?”
Thorne was trying so hard to be coy, and it was adorable, but Riley was feeling much too impatient to wait through it all. “You didn’t get reservations tonight and attempt to recreate our first non-date for no reason.”
“Of course I didn’t.” He signaled the waiter who came over immediately. “I had a package delivered here. Would you please bring it now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can have a package delivered to a restaurant?”
“I can have a package delivered where I damn well please as long as I pay enough.”
Thorne’s intercom buzzed. “A Mr. Dash is here to see you. He says he’s expected. Shall I send him up?”
“Yes, Je-Michaels, thank you.” Michaels had only been working as a doorman in Thorne’s building for a few weeks, yet Thorne had lost count of the number of times he’d almost called the man Jeeves. Michaels’ British accent and starched appearance simply begged for it. Years ago he’d loved to watch and re-watch the Masterpiece Theatre version of Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster, with Clint, his—boyfriend was certainly not right, even lover didn’t fit—boss. His boss whom he’d occasionally fucked. Now, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched anything but videos of junior consultants’ meetings.
Two crisp knocks at the door signaled that Dash had made the long elevator ride to his penthouse apartment.
Thorne’s pulse sped up. He resented how very much he needed this respite from work, these moments where he actually let go of all his clients’ woes and indulged himself. Yet he kept paying for it, every week that he was in town. He imagined being fucked roughly, hands held down, as Dash whispered dirty words in his ear. By the time Thorne reached the door, he was already hard. Dash damn well better work out; but whether or not Thorne requested him to come back, he was going to get fucked tonight.
He checked the peephole out of habit, although Michaels and the other doormen were quite strict about checking credentials before allowing anyone in the building. The young man standing at Thorne’s door appeared to be in his early twenties, as were most of the service’s employees. He had dirty-blond hair that curled loosely and was longer than he could have worn it if he’d worked in Thorne’s office. His hazel eyes had a mischievous look to them that held promise. His smile, however, wasn’t at all what Thorne was expecting. It was fresh and sunny and it reached his eyes, a true smile, like he was meeting a friend, not conducting illicit business.
Quit trying to read so much into him. This isn’t a business meeting where you have to size up the clients. It’s a fucking hook-up that you paid for.
Thorne opened the door.
“Mr. Shipton?” the boy asked.
Thorne nodded and stepped back so Dash could enter.
“I’m Dash; Sheila told me you were a client of Marc’s.” Dash lifted the strap of the messenger bag he carried over his head and sat the bag against the wall in the entryway.
“That’s right,” Thorne answered. “He suited my needs perfectly.”
“And you think I won’t?”
Fuck. Was he that transparent or was this kid that good? “What I think is that the rapport I had with Marc was hard to find.”
“He’s a switch and a damn good one.” Dash’s look said he knew that from personal experience.
“Correct.”
“So am I.” Dash smiled, and Thorne reacted as if he’d wrapped his hand around Thorne’s dick.
Thorne’s gaze moved down Dash’s body. He was shorter than Marc, who’d matched Thorne’s six feet, maybe five feet nine or five feet ten. His body was lean but not without muscle. If Thorne had to guess, he’d say Dash was a runner. His tight black pants clung to his body, giving the impression he had a rather nice package.
“Shall I make you a drink while we discuss exactly what you’d like tonight?” Dash asked, wandering toward the kitchen.
It took a few seconds for the words to register in Thorne’s brain. Dash was…hot, fucking hot. But there was something else about him, something Thorne couldn’t define, that had Thorne salivating to get him naked and in bed. If Thorne believed in anything as hokey as “auras,” he would’ve said Dash had a powerful one. Thorne pushed the thought away, disgusted. Too much work and too little sex must have fried his brain. He’d been so busy that week he hadn’t even found time to jerk off.
“I don’t need a drink, and I don’t want to talk.”
Dash grinned and propped himself against the bar in the kitchen area, cocking his hip out. The pose was obviously calculated to make Thorne appreciate his slim waist. “That eager, huh?”
“I realize some people hire escorts for companionship. They want to know someone is listening to them. I’m sick of talking: to clients, to employees, to fucking airport desk agents. I don’t need you to pretend to be my friend. I need to be fucked.”
“Sure of that, are you?” Dash asked, walking around the bar and entering the kitchen.
“Yes.”
Personal Entanglement #2
Chapter One
Thorne pinned Riley’s wrists to the bed. “You like this? Like me turning things around and taking your ass?”
“Yes!” Riley struggled to get free. He tried to move his hips, to take Thorne deeper, but Thorne held himself still, cock barely inside Riley.
Thorne knew holding back was driving Riley insane.
“Why are you doing this?” Riley whined.
Thorne bit his lip, concentrating on not fucking Riley. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to push for more now that Riley was his… What? Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? He’d tried to be good, tried not to beg Riley to move in. He’d meant to wait and let Riley realize how good it would be for them to be together every night, but Riley wasn’t deciding fast enough to suit Thorne. And Thorne liked getting his way.
Just before they’d tumbled into bed, still half-covered in whipped icing, which should have been on a strawberry cake, Riley had said he needed to go home. He had an early morning, and it was easier to catch the train from his place.
Thorne had used his best weapon to keep Riley there: seduction.
“You want to come, don’t you?” he asked Riley.
“Thorrrrne.” The word was half exasperation, half raw lust.
“Say you’ll move in with me.” Thorne’s attempt at manipulation was so blatant, so ridiculous, there was no way Riley would say yes. Of course, Thorne would fuck him anyway, as if he could deny himself such pleasure.
He sank in a little farther, and Riley groaned.
“What happened to not forcing this?”
Thorne shrugged and smiled at him. “I got impatient.”
“You’ve been impatient.”
“I got desperate.”
Riley looked up at him. Soft, hungry, like he fucking worshipped Thorne. Then he flipped them, straddling Thorne and driving himself down, taking all of Thorne’s cock.
“Bastard!” Thorne shouted.
“A bastard who intends to get off. No more games.”
“You love games.” Thorne grabbed Riley’s hips and held them tight, trying to stop him from moving. “Just try it. You can move back in with Marc if it’s so bad, but really, wouldn’t you rather wake up like this? Aren’t you tired of going back and forth between our places? My car service can take you to school every morning.”
“Thorne.” Riley’s voice held a note of warning.
“Damn it, Riley.”
Riley moved up, working himself on Thorne’s cock.
“How about a bet?” Thorne asked. If he was going to push, he might as well go all in. “If you come first, you have to move in for a trial period.”
Riley shook his head. “That’s insane.”
Thorne flipped them again and thrust hard into Riley, making him gasp.
“Because you know you’ll lose.”
“I know nothing of the kind.” Riley squeezed Thorne’s cock with his internal muscles, and Thorne shuddered. “You’re a manipulative ass.”
Thorne raised a brow. “Did you just figure that out?”
“Are you asking to be punished?”
Thorne groaned. “Yes, and wouldn’t it be more convenient to give me what I deserve if all your toys were here?”
“Fuck, how do you know just what to say?”
Thorne didn’t respond. Everything he could think of to say would get him in worse trouble. Instead, he demonstrated just how much he was enjoying being the one doing the fucking.
When he knew Riley was close, he gripped his hips hard and pulled out oh-so-slowly. “Sleeping next to you is so good, so warm, so perfect. I want you here. All. The. Time.” He punctuated his words with quick thrusts into Riley.
“And you always get what you want?” Riley’s voice was breathless.
“Not alllllllways.” But most of the time.
Perfect Allignment #3
The maître d’ at Bavaria Haus recognized Thorne immediately. “I have your table ready, sir, and your server will bring out the wine you requested right away.”
Bavaria Haus didn’t take reservations unless you were Thornwell Fucking Shipton, and Riley noticed the dirty looks they received from several patrons who were waiting in the crowded lobby. One grumbled about entitled pricks loudly enough for Riley to hear, but if Thorne noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He’d likely heard worse complaints about his behavior that very day at the office.
A server appeared before Riley had a chance to say anything. He opened the wine and started to pour some in Thorne’s glass for him to taste, but Thorne waved his hand toward Riley.
“It’s my partner the wine should impress.”
The man nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Riley nearly laughed at Thorne’s satisfied grin. Thorne really did love when others did his bidding, which made it all the more special that he surrendered so beautifully to Riley.
Riley kept his eyes on Thorne as he sipped the wine, making a show of just how much he liked it. Thorne knew his tastes now: dry, red wine with berry overtones and a hint of smoke.
He sucked the wine off his bottom lip before setting his glass down. By then he was certain Thorne was hard and aching to adjust himself. He was practically panting. Riley might not be an escort anymore, but he hadn’t lost his seduction skills even if he only used them on Thorne now.
He looked up at the waiter. The man’s eyes were wide. Apparently, he wasn’t unaffected either. “Perfect.”
“I… I’m glad you like it, sir.”
The poor server nearly dropped the bottle as he attempted to pour a full glass for Riley. He regained his composure and completed the task, filling Thorne’s glass and then asking if they knew what they’d like.
Riley smiled at Thorne. “Have you chosen for us?”
Thorne relaxed under his attention. Of course he had, but he’d probably thought Riley would bristle at that. He used to, but now he knew it meant Thorne was trying to please him. If he really wanted something else, he could always speak up.
Thorne ordered kartoffelpuffer and beef rouladen, the same appetizer and entrée they’d first eaten here, despite the kartoffelpuffer not being on the current menu. He really was up to something.
When the waiter walked away, Thorne looked at Riley and smiled. “So you do remember?”
“That I ordered this on our first date? Yes.”
“Was that a date?” Thorne asked.
“We wanted to pretend it wasn’t, but yes.”
“I agree.”
Riley took a sip of his wine. “So…?”
“What?”
Thorne was trying so hard to be coy, and it was adorable, but Riley was feeling much too impatient to wait through it all. “You didn’t get reservations tonight and attempt to recreate our first non-date for no reason.”
“Of course I didn’t.” He signaled the waiter who came over immediately. “I had a package delivered here. Would you please bring it now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can have a package delivered to a restaurant?”
“I can have a package delivered where I damn well please as long as I pay enough.”
Silvia Violet writes fun, sexy stories that will leave you smiling and satisfied. She has a thing for characters who are in need of comfort and enjoys helping them surrender to love even when they doubt it exists. Silvia's stories include sizzling contemporaries, paranormals, and historicals. When she needs a break from listening to the voices in her head, she spends time baking, taking long walks, and curling up with her favorite books. Keep up with her latest ventures by signing up for her newsletter.
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Professional Distance #1
KOBO / AUDIBLE / iTUNES / iTUNES AUDIO
Personal Entanglement #2
KOBO / AUDIBLE / iTUNES / iTUNES AUDIO
Perfect Allignment #3
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