Final Dance Part Two - Samantha Cayto Page 0,94

no way of knowing whether the boy—Cody was his name—was actually in danger or merely bored, waiting for his Master to return and release him. The vanilla world struggled as it was to accept the BDSM lifestyle as legitimate and not criminal. If the police barged into the home to release the sub, there would be hell to pay, even if Cody was fine. And it wasn’t Gage’s reputation or sensibilities that Ford worried about. No, it was the boy’s. At a minimum, he would be humiliated in front of strangers finding him undoubtedly naked or nearly so and trussed in a manner that brought joy to the kid but was frowned upon by almost everyone else. What he remembered of the sub was that he was shy, skittish and a complete novice. Gage had said something about Cody being a street kid, someone kicked out of his home. Ford was willing to bet the sight of cops would disturb the poor boy. And yet, if he was in trouble, minutes mattered.

In the end, he arrived at Gage’s duplex as he weighed his options. Thank God, it was the height of summer. The students were gone and many people were on vacation. Traffic was light because it was a Sunday, as well. And bonus point… Gage had a driveway, so there was no need to hunt for a parking space. Ford hopped out of his vehicle and, as he hurried to the front door, his heart pounded and sweat rolled down his back. There was more than worry causing the physiological reaction. He’d suppressed his reaction to Cody the first time he’d met him because he was Gage’s boy, and Ford didn’t poach. That undeniable draw to the fetching new submissive would have led to problems that were not in anyone’s best interest. There were plenty of subs to choose from if one knew the scene well—and Ford did. He never lacked for someone to play with for long. But at the moment, he was unpaired and his stupid dick had ideas of its own. The thought of seeing Cody, being with him, helping him maybe while Gage remained in the hospital, became less about being a good friend and more about an opportunity.

He did his best to shut down that whole train of thought. “Not going there,” he admonished himself.

As soon as he opened the front door, he easily shut off his prurient ideas because it was like a sauna inside. Gage’s old home didn’t have central air conditioning and the working-class guy was as frugal as they came. The window unit in the living room was obviously off. Kicking himself for not calling in emergency help, he raced for the kitchen and the entrance to the basement where Gage kept his dungeon. Having played together with their respective subs, Ford was familiar with the layout. He found the door locked and cursed a blue streak as he hunted for the key in a kitchen drawer. Damn… Gage always worried about the wrong thing, like someone would break in and steal his boy, instead of worrying that he’d trapped the sub.

After finding what he needed, Ford wasted no time opening the door. He took a deep breath as he turned the knob and hoped like hell that what he found down there would be a pissed-off sub and not a hurt one. At least there was an immediate drop in temperature, the basement being below ground level. That was something, he supposed, although it was still very warm and humid. He made himself slow down so that he wouldn’t startle the boy by charging into the dungeon. First, though, he had to turn on the overhead light. He hoped that Gage had blindfolded the kid, otherwise the sudden brightness would be just one more thing to hurt him.

“Cody?” he called out as he descended. “It’s all right. It’s Master Ford. I’m here to help. Master Gage sent me,” he added.

Frank stood forward and gave her a hug, too. “It’s fine, sugar. Don’t you worry about that. I just fell a little awkwardly, the doctor said. Dang horse got spooked

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About the Author

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don’t understand why they can’t read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.

Samantha loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com