Title: Tread
Author: AG Carothers
Series: Kink Files #2
Genre: M/M Romance, BDSM
Release Date: April 20, 2020
Cover Design: Amai Designs
Darius could tread on my body, but he'd never trample my heart.
Abel Kensington the Fifth, aka TheFifthAbel – Accountant, Germaphobe, Service Submissive turned Daddy Dom, and resigned to being alone.
Mired in his routines that keep the worst of his fears and obsessive behaviors at bay, Abel has given up finding someone who will look past his sanitized bubble. Little does he know that someone is watching him and has a plan to slip into his world and take care of him for a change.
Darius MacLeod aka JuicyDare – Coffee House Owner, Scottish Transplant, New Daddy Dom, and finding love is the last thing on his mind.
While his roots are still firmly in his homeland, Darius has started a new life in his father’s hometown. When a seemingly shy and prim older man starts frequenting his café, Darius’ interest is piqued and his instincts kick in. Wanting to get past the barrier that Abel has erected, Darius dives feet first into a whole new world he knows little about.
Abel and Darius will both need to find sure footing on this new path before them as Abel gets back to his submissive roots and Darius explores a new but natural lifestyle.
Attention: This book contains depictions of dominance, submission, boot worship, trampling, and adults in footie pajamas
Darius POV:
About a month after Abel started coming to the café, he said something to my day manager, Santos, which had intrigued me and really spurred my desire to know him better.
He had come in, as usual. I’d watched his lithe body as he set up his area and then move to the counter. He tugged on the sleeves of his shirt to straighten them—like always. That day he had worn a hunter-green button down. It was always a solid color with all the buttons done, even the top one, but no tie. He always kept his black hair short on the sides with a little bit of length on the top. I suspected that if he let it grow, it would curl a little. It looked thick and soft. I often wondered what it would feel like between my fingers.
I had watched from just inside the kitchen as his hazel eyes roamed the menu board on the wall behind the counter. He had scrunched his freckle-splattered nose in the most adorable way as he thought.
Santos placed a plate with his usual carrot and zucchini muffin in front of him on the counter and started inputting his order into the computer. Abel had registered the movement and focused on him.
"One muffin, a latte, and a Grasslands Juice. That'll be fourteen thirty-six, as usual, Mr. K."
Abel had looked down his nose at Santos and arched a thick but sculpted eyebrow. "It’s admirable that you remember what I have ordered the last five times I have visited this establishment, but it is rude to assume."
Santos had opened his mouth and closed it, which was good because Abel wasn’t done.
"I appreciate your wanting to be efficient, but what if today I want a banana nut muffin instead?"
"Do you want a banana nut muffin instead, Mr. K?"
"Abel, please. And, no, I do not, but that’s beside the point. It is not good service to anticipate what I may want. It is, on the other hand, good service to know how I like it or want it done when I tell you what I want or need. For instance, Darius always remembers how I like my sandwich made. He's very thoughtful."
"I'm sorry, Mr. K—I mean, Abel, sir. I’ll remember that. What may I get you this morning?"
Abel had tugged on his sleeves again. I had a feeling that was more of a compulsion than anything else. A nervous habit maybe?
"I'll have a carrot and zucchini muffin, a latte, and a Grasslands Juice."
I had to stifle my laughter as I went about making his juice.
About a month after Abel started coming to the café, he said something to my day manager, Santos, which had intrigued me and really spurred my desire to know him better.
He had come in, as usual. I’d watched his lithe body as he set up his area and then move to the counter. He tugged on the sleeves of his shirt to straighten them—like always. That day he had worn a hunter-green button down. It was always a solid color with all the buttons done, even the top one, but no tie. He always kept his black hair short on the sides with a little bit of length on the top. I suspected that if he let it grow, it would curl a little. It looked thick and soft. I often wondered what it would feel like between my fingers.I had watched from just inside the kitchen as his hazel eyes roamed the menu board on the wall behind the counter. He had scrunched his freckle-splattered nose in the most adorable way as he thought.
Santos placed a plate with his usual carrot and zucchini muffin in front of him on the counter and started inputting his order into the computer. Abel had registered the movement and focused on him.
"One muffin, a latte, and a Grasslands Juice. That'll be fourteen thirty-six, as usual, Mr. K."
Santos had opened his mouth and closed it, which was good because Abel wasn’t done.
"I appreciate your wanting to be efficient, but what if today I want a banana nut muffin instead?"
"Do you want a banana nut muffin instead, Mr. K?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. K—I mean, Abel, sir. I’ll remember that. What may I get you this morning?"
Abel had tugged on his sleeves again. I had a feeling that was more of a compulsion than anything else. A nervous habit maybe?
"I'll have a carrot and zucchini muffin, a latte, and a Grasslands Juice."
I had to stifle my laughter as I went about making his juice.
A. G. Carothers is actually a dragon very cleverly disguised as a human. They are a non-binary author of LGBTQIA Romance and Urban Fantasy, who enjoys writing original and entertaining stories. They are very excited to share the worlds they've created with you. A.G. currently lives in Tennessee with their platonic life partner, who is not a dragon. They yearn to live back in Europe and will some day. In their spare time they are addicted to losing themselves in the lovely worlds created by other authors A.G. is committed to writing the stories they see in their head without restrictions. Love is blind and doesn't see gender, race, or sexuality.
EMAIL: Info@AGCarothers.com
Tread #2
Series
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