Book Title: Sugar Bunny (My Kinky Housemate Book 1)
Author: Colette Davison
Publisher: Independently Published
Cover Artist: Designs by Jo
Release Date: February 1, 2022
Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance
Tropes: MMM, Pet play (bunny play), Daddy kink (no age play), age gap
Themes: Coming out, forgiveness
Length: 87 857 words
It’s the first book in a new series and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK
Can a no-strings fun-times relationship with two older men lead to real and lasting love?
Blurb
With the My Kinky Housemate app, I’ve found a place to live with seven like-minded guys. My new start and a chance to make my dreams come true aren’t turning out like I hoped. A housemate has the solution—become a sugar baby. Answering an ad is easy, but will a Sugar Daddy be interested in me?
A sexy interior designer is way more than I expect. He wants to spoil me, spank me, and share me with his silver fox husband.
Together, Colton and Ford solve some of my problems but create another as I start to fall for them. However fun our time together is, I have to remind myself it’s not real. It won’t last. It’s not love… is it?
Sugar Bunny is an MMM, D/switch/s, age-gap romance. It includes pet-play, spanking, an open relationship, sharing—but no cheating!—and some hurt/comfort.
Trigger warning: domestic abuse.
“Clever,” Ford says.
I look at him and raise an eyebrow.
“Not baring all. People are more likely to pay for a private striptease.”
I nod in agreement. The dancers have me on the edge of being turned on.
There’s a five-minute gap where there are no waiters on the floor. Then they return in their sexy outfits once more. Our waiter comes back to us immediately. He’s even flirtier than before as he checks we’re okay for drinks. I can tell he’s hoping one or both of us will request a dance. We don’t. He’s not the one we’re interested in.
“Would you get your friend to come over here?” I ask, holding a ten-pound note out. “This is for you if you will.”
“Which friend?” the waiter asks, following my gaze.
“The small guy.”
“Oh, you want the newbie?” He grins at me. “You’ll make his day.”
He whips the note out of my hand and makes straight for the sugar bunny, who’s in the process of putting drinks down on a table full of women. Our waiter whispers something in the sugar bunny’s ear and points towards us. Sugar bunny makes eye contact with me, and I’m sure he recognises me from my profile picture on the Sugar Daddy site. Then his gaze shifts to Ford, and he tilts his head, brow furrowing slightly. He turns his attention back to the women at the table, says something to them before heading towards the bar to drop off his tray. That done, he hurries to our table.
“Hey.” He slants his hips coquettishly. “Brad said you wanted to talk to me?”
I smile, wondering if that’s really what Brad said. “Sugar bunny?”
His smile widens. “Designer Daddy?”
I nod.
He glances at our half-empty glasses. “What can I get you?”
From his accent, I guess he’s from the northeast. It’s not as thick as a Geordie accent, but he’s definitely from that area. His voice is soft, even though he has to raise it to be heard over the music.
“A dance,” I say, holding out a fifty-pound note. “A slow one. For both of us.”
His eyes widen as he looks at the note, then me, then Ford, and then back to me. His gaze skims over my day collar, and I wonder if he recognises it for what it is or, like a lot of people, thinks it’s just a nice piece of jewellery. His stare travels lower still to my hand, and I can guess what he’s looking for.
“You’re married?” he asks as his eyes snap up to look into mine.
“We are,” I say, taking hold of Ford’s hand. “Obviously, he knows I’m searching for a new sugar baby.”
Sugar bunny’s eyebrows rise a fraction.
“Is being married a problem?”
He tilts his head, probably thinking about it.
“I’m not cheating on my husband.”
Ford leans forward. “I know he’s here,” he says in a stage whisper. “I’m cool with it.”
The word ‘cool’ does not sound right coming out of my husband’s mouth, but I let it go.
“Well?” I ask. “Is it a problem that I’m married?”
“No…” He doesn’t sound sure.
I open my mouth to explain, but before I can, his stare darts away from us to a man in his mid- to late thirties near the bar. The man is wearing a leather jacket over a white T-shirt, which glows purple under the black lighting. His eyes are narrowed.
“Upstairs,” sugar bunny says quickly, a nervous smile flickering across his lips. “We do the private dances upstairs.”
Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.
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