Finding Him by LM Somerton
General Release Date: 1st March 2022
Word Count: 59,668
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 230
Genres:
BONDAGE AND BDSM,CONTEMPORARY,EROTIC ROMANCE,GAY,GLBTQI
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Book Description
Sometimes, using a safe word gets you exactly what you want.
Canadian Zac Denman is young, rich and submissive. He’s also a kidnap risk who’s grown up in the shadow of bodyguards and security precautions. All he wants is to work out what kind of submissive he is in a safe environment and thanks to his very understanding father, he’s getting the chance to do exactly that. The Retreat in England is safe, discreet and willing to provide a selection of Doms for Zac to play with—a great way of discovering what he is, and isn’t, into.
Dale Gastrell is a friend of The Retreat’s owner, a member of The Underground BDSM club and a soldier turned landscape gardener thanks to an inconvenient bullet. Two weeks providing covert protection to a wealthy client who won’t even know he’s there seems like a perfect break from city life.
But life is never simple, and when Dale and Zac are thrown together, Dale has to fight his attraction. Zac is from a whole different world of wealth and privilege. He’s not for the likes of Dale who has to watch as Doms arrive at The Retreat to give Zac a taste of submission.
Zac took a deep breath, glad that the long journey from Arizona was finally over. He stretched, and several of his vertebrae clicked. “Jeez, that’s penance for my mahoosive carbon footprint.” He tilted his head to stare at the scudding clouds. “I’ll plant a whole forest’s worth of trees, okay?”
“Who are you talking to?” Rayne asked, coming to stand next to him.
“Whatever deity cares to listen and provide relief for my aching back.”
“Not sure it works that way.”
“Sadly, you’re probably right. I’ll get my bag from the boot.” Zac hauled his suitcase from the boot of the car before his chauffeur could do it for him. He gave Rayne a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I’m determined to be self-sufficient on this trip.” He rested the case on the gravel.
“Hey, I’m not gonna argue with guests who want to do my work for me,” Rayne said, “I’ve never heard an American use the term ‘boot’ before. I thought you guys were all about elephant appendages.”
Zac snorted with laughter. “I’m Canadian. I’ve traveled all over the world. In my youth, we were in England for two years, and I got used to hearing it. I guess I learned it through osmosis, and it stuck.” He grinned. “Would you prefer me to say things like ‘yeehaw’ and ‘y’all’? Is that more in tune with American speak for you?”
Rayne slammed the boot shut, cackling. “I’ve never heard an American say ‘yeehaw’ either, except maybe in a Doris Day movie, and I’ve no idea what a Canadian would say. I thought you all spoke French.” He shrugged. “I haven’t traveled much at all—holidays with my folks involved a tent in a soggy field, a concrete shower block and a chemical toilet. Have you ever eaten tinned potatoes heated up over a Primus? I don’t recommend it.” He shuddered. “Now I’ve traumatized myself, let’s change the subject. We made good time. I’m sure the welcoming committee is on the way.”
Zac took a moment to take in his surroundings. The Retreat more than exceeded his expectations. Its atmospheric collection of Gothic architecture hung together better than it had any right to. He’d also been fascinated by the last part of the journey from the airport. The cool greens of the New Forest had been such a contrast from the browns of Arizona, and he’d even caught sight of sturdy ponies grazing between the trees. The woodland surrounding the property provided what felt like a cozy security blanket knitted from leaves and branches. The grounds had high walls and sturdy gates. He knew there were plenty of security precautions in place and the fact that he hadn’t spotted them gave him confidence. The Retreat had a reputation for professionalism in every aspect of its operation, and Zac was grateful that his father had seen fit to allow him this opportunity.
And I’m going to make the most of it. After a nap. He yawned, jaw cracking. Rayne’s expression was part amused, part sympathetic.
“First your back, now your jaw—you’re falling apart.”
“I swear I age a decade every time I fly. I need my feet on solid ground to recover.”
“You must be exhausted. I’ve never flown long haul but I guess if I did my body wouldn’t know which way was up for hours. I like my sleep.”
“I napped on the plane,” Zac said, “but I’m not a great flyer. It’s claustrophobic and noisy. I know I shouldn’t be complaining because not everyone gets the luxury of flying on a private jet. You must think I’m an over-privileged ingrate.”
“I think your father cares about your security and I can imagine so many things I’d like to get up to on a private jet. The mile high club is still a thing, right? Did you have a hot air steward? And by have I mean…never mind, I’m going to get myself in trouble unless I zip my trap shut.”
“I can see you’re going to be a very bad influence on me, Rayne,” Zac said. “I’m glad.” He peered at dust rising in the distance. “I think we have company. I hope that isn’t my first Dom arriving early. I really need to sleep if I’m going to make anywhere close to a half-decent impression.”
A beaten-up yellow Mini hurtled down the last part of the drive into the courtyard, coming to a halt in a spray of gravel right in front of them.
“You think he’s a rally driver?”
“Seems possible.”
“I think the gravel’s gonna need raking.”
“Unfortunately, that’s part of my job. I’m guessing he must be the new gardener,” Rayne observed. “He’s the only other person due to arrive today, and Luke would never have opened the gates if he wasn’t a legitimate visitor. He really needs to park that crate around the back, though. He’s lowering the tone.”
“It has character,” Zac said. “Have you ever seen the film The Italian Job, the one with the three Minis in it? It’s one of my favorites. I don’t think any of the cars in that were yellow, though.” He looked on, curious, as the car’s driver climbed out. He stretched and groaned, and Zac winced in sympathy just as The Retreat’s front door swung open and a tall blond appeared on the step. From his military bearing, Zac guessed that he was Luke Redding, the general manager of The Retreat. Luke took in the scene, frowning.
“Rayne, stop dawdling. If you’ve unloaded all of Zak’s luggage, you can go wash the car.”
“Aw, you’re no fun. I wanna meet the new guy.” Rayne scuffed at the gravel, causing even more mess.
“If you aren’t out of my sight in the next minute, young man, I’m going to send Tor round to the garages with instructions to turn your ass crimson.”
“Yes, Sir, going, Sir.”
“And make sure you rake the gravel later!”
Rayne ran for the car, giving Zac a quick wave as he went. “Good luck, Zac!”
Zac gulped and straightened his shoulders. Luke was the kind of man who commanded respect without asking for it. His steely gaze seemed to bore into Zac’s soul.
“Zac, welcome to The Retreat. Please bear with me for one moment while I sort out the new gardener.”
Zac nodded, trying to keep up. He was still assimilating the threat Luke had made to Rayne. If Zac wasn’t mistaken, the general manager of The Retreat had just told one of his staff that he’d get a spanking if he didn’t do as ordered. Zak’s dick was apparently less jetlagged than the rest of him because it twitched with excitement. That was what he needed, craved even, a man prepared to take him in hand, a man who wasn’t afraid to administer discipline when Zac got a little too cocky.
He turned his attention to the conversation going on between Mr. Redding and the man who appeared to be gardening’s answer to the kind of model who appeared in advertising for leather gear. He was about the same height as Luke but more heavily built. He wore scuffed work boots, ripped jeans that hugged a pair of well-muscled thighs, and a plain black T-shirt. His exposed arms sported some interesting tattoos, and a long scar ran around one bicep. He was ruggedly good-looking, with hair shaved close to his scalp and three days’ stubble but his most startling feature was his eyes, which were so dark they appeared close to black. He was the type of man that Zac dreamed about dropping to his knees in front of. He could only hope that the Doms he was going to meet over the next two weeks would be as attractive.
Though Zac would have been quite happy to stand and watch Luke and the hot gardener guy for the rest of the day, their conversation was short, and Luke soon returned to Zac’s side.
“Sorry about that. With all the hours in the day, it was inevitable that the two of you would arrive at once.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. “I guess you’ve probably had enough time to view our car parking area. Why don’t we go inside? You must be desperate for a drink.”
Zac appreciated Luke’s efforts to put him at ease. “Sounds good. What I’ve seen so far is spectacular, even the parking lot.”
“Is that a hint of brat I hear in your tone, Mr. Denman?”
“Not at all, Mr. Redding. I guess I got kind of dehydrated on the flight and it’s affecting my ability to put together appropriate sentences.”
Luke’s expression was one of amused skepticism. “I can see you’re going to give our visiting Doms a run for their money. I’ll be sure to stock plenty of aloe in your bathroom.” Zac didn’t understand and it must have showed. Luke walked toward the huge oak front door. “It’s a cooling gel, Zac. Perfect for soothing sore behinds.”
Zac gaped. “Oh my God, either this is really happening, or I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole.” He hefted his case and rushed after Luke only to come to a sudden halt in the front hall. “Wow, this place may not be The Savoy, but it really is something.” A sweeping staircase led to a galleried landing and as Zac did a slow pirouette, he realized that the dappled, multi-colored light spilling through the hall came from a magnificent stained-glass window.
“Holy moly.”
“The place makes a good first impression, doesn’t it?” Pride shone in Luke’s eyes.
“It sure does. So much better in real life than in the pictures I’ve seen.”
“Ah yes, the secret website. You’ve met Carey Hoffman’s partner, Alistair, haven’t you? He took all the pictures for the site.”
“I met Carey and Alistair at home in the States. My dad is a big fan of Alistair’s work and so am I.” Zac fought back another yawn. “He’s incredibly talented.”
“Usually, I’d get you settled then do the grand tour but I can see you’re exhausted. I wouldn’t recommend that you sleep for too long otherwise your body clock will never adjust, but perhaps a nap for an hour or two would be advisable.”
“It would. I have to admit, I’m dying to see around the place but at the moment I don’t think I could take everything in properly. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s perfectly understandable. Let me take you to your room. There’s a fridge in there if you need a drink or a light snack. You can get some rest, and I’ll arrange for somebody to knock on your door in a couple of hours.”
“Thank you, that sounds perfect.” Zac followed Luke up the grand staircase, wondering which of the five doors would lead to the room he’d been allocated.
“Each of the rooms has its own secrets to discover,” Luke said, “so what I decided to do was move you with each Dom so that you get to experience all of them over your stay. You’ll be starting off in the green room. They’re all color-themed in case you were wondering.”
“If you’re sure that’s not too much work,” Zac said, “it sounds like a great idea.”
“We want you to have the best possible experience while you’re here, Zac. Be assured that I and the rest of the staff will do everything in our power to make that happen. Nothing is too much trouble.”
Luke opened the door to the green room, and Zac followed him inside. He immediately focused on the bed, which was made up in dark green and gold and looked supremely comfortable. He dropped his case on the floor and made a beeline for it, kicking off his shoes before throwing himself on to the well sprung mattress. He stretched out while Luke drew heavy curtains across the windows, shutting out the sunlight.
“Thanks, Luke, this bed is so comfortable.” Zac’s eyelids drooped.
“Rest well, Zac, you have some big adventures ahead of you.”
“I’m sure I will.” Zac was already halfway to sleep. He registered the soft click of the door closing as Luke left, then closed his eyes.
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L.M. Somerton
Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.
She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She’s fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and some not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.
You can follow Lucinda on Facebook, Twitter and her Website.
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