Hi,

Thanks for having me on the blog.

I have a confession to make.

I thought David Beauchamp wasn’t going to make it out of Bad Attitude alive. We writers can be cruel to our creations, and I wasn’t sure what more Beach could do in the story after he got Gavin in trouble and ended up in a coma. But then, I needed him to cause more trouble for Gavin, so Beach got to wake up. Then he insisted on sauntering (yes, even with his cane) into Bad Influence and after he did, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to avoid writing him a book.

I never expected one like this though. I thought maybe someone as arrogant as Beach should meet his match with someone far less polished, but I didn’t know that would be a Dominant parole officer!

Once Beach decides what he wants, though, he’s just as stubborn as any of my characters. When Tai says they can’t see each other again, Beach won’t take no for an answer. He asks Eli for help and sets out to get Tai’s Dominant attention.

He spent the evening mindlessly clicking through the nothing on cable until a quick triple knock bounced off the apartment door.

Jez raised her head, tipped it for a couple seconds, then stood up with a stretch. That usually meant someone she knew.

Tai patted her head, set down his beer, and discovered with surprise it had four empty companions lined up across the coffee table. He wasn’t lit, he noticed when he stood up, but he was feeling it.

Jez stuck to her training and sat in the living room doorway as Tai went to the door and opened it.

A completely naked David Beauchamp knelt in the hall.

Stark fucking naked. In front of Tai’s apartment. Where the nice family in 2B might find him on their way home from the fireworks. Maybe Beauchamp would be better off in the hands of Behavior Health instead of Correctional Services..

A yank, a drag, a shove, and a slam got Beauchamp behind the closed door and inside the apartment.

Tai leaned on the door for an instant, drawing in a deep breath of air-conditioning to cool his head before he turned around.

Beauchamp crouched against the wall near the kitchen door where Tai had flung him, petting Jez’s head as she nuzzled his jaw and neck.

“Jez.” His tone was too sharp, and she shrank into as tiny a space as she could get on the floor, head lowered. Tai took another deep breath. “Good girl.” He patted her head, felt her shaking. “Good girl. Come on. Bed.”

She sprang up to head for her crate. Tai shot a glare at the man in his kitchen doorway. “You. St—” Stay would only confuse Jez more. “Don’t move.”

Jez chomped on a fuzzy chew toy from her basket and carried it with her as she hopped in to curl up on her blanket, staring up at Tai out of watchful eyes that still had too much white in them.

Holding his hand near the door to the crate, he murmured, “I’m sorry, girl. You’re not in trouble.”

She sniffed and offered a quick lick to his wrist.

“Good girl. Bed.” He thought of shutting the crate door, but she’d stay until he called her. He shut his bedroom door, though.

Beauchamp was still in the space next to the kitchen, but he’d shifted back to that kneeling pose, probably copied from something he’d seen online. It wasn’t bad form, if you were grading that sort of thing. Knees apart, ass down onto his heels, palms up and open on his thighs, head down.

The only thing wrong with it was who. And where. And how fucking much Tai wanted to step forward, put a hand on Beauchamp’s neck, and drag his face to meet Tai’s crotch. Grind it there until he felt the hesitation, the resistance, and then the hot flood of satisfaction when David yielded, let Tai control when he got to move, got to breathe.

Instead he folded his arms across his chest and took another deep breath before he spoke. “Look at me.”

David raised his head until he was staring up out of those pretty blue eyes. No wonder he’d been able to get away with so much all his life. He had a face like a model, features symmetrical and smooth, except for the bump of a healed break in the middle of his nose and a smattering of freckles under his eyes. The blink and half smile probably worked on almost everyone—and his millions in the bank certainly wouldn’t hurt his chances. He looked bigger out of his clothes, maybe a little soft at the waist, but a defined chest tapered to narrow hips, and his back was sculpted beauty.

Tai froze, realizing he’d started walking around the kneeling man as if this really was a scene and he really was a sub presenting himself. But he wasn’t. He was a probie. Someone else’s, yes, but still in the system and as off-limits as it got.

Tai pressed his back against the door behind David. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

A thread of nervous laughter wound through David’s answer. “I was rather hoping it was self-explanatory.”

Blurb—Bad Behavior

Bad in Baltimore: Book Five

 

In a lifetime of yes, no is the sexiest word he’s ever heard.

After one too many misunderstandings with the law, wealthy and spoiled David Beauchamp finds himself chained to the city by the GPS and alcohol sensor strapped to his ankle. Awaiting trial, cut off from usual forms of entertainment, he goes looking for a good time—and winds up with his hands full, in more ways than one. The situation only gets more complicated when he’s summoned for a random drug test and comes face-to-face with the dominant man who took him for one hell of a ride the night before.

Probation Officer Tai Fonoti is used to handling other people’s problems, but he’s horrified when one of the extra clients his boss dumps on him is the sweet piece of ass he screwed the night before. It makes getting a urine sample a pretty loaded situation. Tai’s unique brand of discipline has Beach craving more. But while Tai relishes laying down the law in the bedroom, the letter of the law stands between them and kinkily ever after….

K.A. Mitchell discovered the magic of writing at an early age when she learned that a carefully crayoned note of apology sent to the kitchen in a toy truck would earn her a reprieve from banishment to her room. Her career as a spin-control artist was cut short when her family moved to a two-story house and her trucks would not roll safely down the stairs. Around the same time, she decided that Ken and G.I. Joe made a much cuter couple than Ken and Barbie and was perplexed when invitations to play Barbie dropped off. She never stopped making stuff up, though, and was thrilled to find out that people would pay her to do it. Although the men in her stories usually carry more emotional baggage than even LAX can lose in a year, she guarantees they always find their sexy way to a happy ending.

K.A. loves to hear from her readers. You can email her at ka@kamitchell.com. She is often found talking about her imaginary friends on Twitter @ka_mitchell.

 

Email: ka@kamitchell.com

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