Once again, Mickie B. Ashling is stopping by to bring us some fun from her latest release (re-release) Impacted! There is a great little excerpt, along with a giveaway of a DSP gift card, so make sure you enter! Can’t wait to read this book!
On his way home from vacation, Scott Gregory, a closeted sub, hooks up with the gorgeous Red, a flamboyant Dom, for a thrilling one-off at a BDSM bar. They part ways after a satisfying scene… but meet again when Robin Kennedy—Red—arrives at his new job as a dental hygienist and discovers one of his two bosses is Scott.
Robin and Scott embark on a journey of exploration into their kinkier sides and discover they’re more than compatible—they’re a perfect match. But keeping employer/employee and Dom/sub separate at the office presents difficulties, and to make matters even more complicated, the owner of the dental practice is an acknowledged homophobe.
They fall in love, but Robin chafes at all the secrecy, refusing to live in the shadows. Scott isn’t as brave; he’s desperate to protect his job and his future. Will they be able to find some middle ground… or will their entire relationship fall apart because of fear?
First Edition published by Dreamspinner Press, August 2009.
I’d like to thank Two Chicks Obsessed for giving me the opportunity to share an exclusive excerpt of Impacted! This novel was originally published in 2009 when I was a newly minted author. It was my first foray into BDSM and I’ll admit I didn’t know much about the men and women who participate in the lifestyle. The second edition offers a gorgeous new cover designed by Kanaka along with extensive edits for a more enjoyable reading experience. This book is the first in a five-book series involving dental and medical professionals living in San Francisco. People rarely associate sexy with dentistry but I can promise you my characters are nothing like the ghoulish men who come to mind when you think of dentists. I hope you’ll give them a try.
They met downstairs at the entrance of the building, rather than leaving the office together. Something unspoken, a shared paranoia due to the nature of their workplace, acknowledged this would be for the best. They walked several blocks until they got to Grant Street and then turned left to enter the portals of Chinatown. After maneuvering several streets, Scott led Robin into a six-table hole-in-the-wall, assuring him the restaurant had some of the best Szechwan food around.
“You like spicy?” Scott asked as they sat across from each other. Space was limited, and their knees were touching under the round table.
“I like hot sauce,” Robin replied. “Does that answer your question?”
“Yes.” Scott nodded. “The Yu Shan shrimp will make your toes curl.”
Robin chuckled. “My toes usually curl when a sub starts to beg.”
Scott felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “Are you always this direct?”
“Would you prefer a lying sack of shit?”
“No,” Scott replied uneasily, “but most men would ease into this conversation.”
“Why be ambivalent when I know exactly what I want?”
Scott picked up the bottle of beer the waiter set on the table and took several gulps. He could feel Robin’s eyes on him the entire time. He wanted to iron out the pros and cons of starting anything, given their special circumstances, but his cock had a mind of its own, and his control was unraveling.
“How do you know I’m interested?”
Robin reached under the table and licked his lips when his fingers grazed the growing bulge between Scott’s legs. “I can smell your need, Dr. Gregory.”
Scott inhaled sharply.
Robin continued to stroke, and Scott found it difficult to think of anything other than his aching groin. It was embarrassing to lose control this quickly, but he couldn’t pretend he was unaffected, not when he was so obvious.
Robin leaned forward until their mouths were inches apart. “Tell me what you want, my gorgeous pain slut.”
Scott looked down and let out a shaky groan. “I want….”
“What, baby?” Robin asked gently. “How can I make it better?”
“Hurt me,” Scott whispered, almost afraid to say the words. “Dominate me.”
“I would love to,” Robin said. He shifted in his seat, and Scott almost cried out when Robin stopped stroking. With both hands back on the table, Robin pinned him with a determined look. “We need to talk first. Tell me what your limits are.”
Scott nervously ran a hand through his hair, taking deep breaths as he fought to recover. He couldn’t believe he’d caved this easily. “I don’t like to be bound.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with the cuffs.”
“No, it’s the heavy stuff I can’t handle. The idea of cages, straitjackets, and ball gags make me claustrophobic.”
“So you don’t like it or haven’t tried it? There’s a difference.”
“I guess I’ve never been with anyone who made me feel safe enough.”
Robin nodded. “We’ll work on it. What about pain? Do you have limits there?”
“Not really, except you can’t mark my arms. I wear short sleeves at work.”
Scott nervously fidgeted with the utensils, and Robin reached out and laid a firm hand on his. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
Scott laughed a little too quickly. “I’m really nervous, for some reason.”
“There’s no need,” Robin said, radiating confidence. “We’ve already lived through the awkward first date—which exceeded my expectations—and I can’t wait to be alone with you again, but getting these pesky questions out of the way will guarantee future success. Do you have a favorite tool?”
“I like most of them, but I prefer the cane.”
Robin whistled. “You are a little pain slut, aren’t you?”
“Shall we pick a safeword?”
“Already?” Scott asked, surprised.
“I want you something fierce,” Robin stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve had a raging hard-on since I walked into the office and saw your beautiful face.”
“Don’t you want me?”
“More than anything.”
“Good,” Robin replied in a low voice. “I want to be sure we’re on the same page.”
“Oh yeah, same page, same book,” Scott acknowledged.
Robin squeezed Scott’s hand and turned it over. He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles on Scott’s wrist, moving gradually up his arm. Goose bumps erupted, and Scott forgot how to breathe. The gentle strokes turned rougher, and Robin snuck under the short sleeves and dug his nails into the tender skin near Scott’s armpits. Scott’s whimper wasn’t planned, but the satisfaction on Robin’s face made Scott wish they were in a private room so he could lunge at the man and kiss away the smirk.
“You’re so fucking responsive,” Robin husked.
“Can we go to my place after we’re done eating?”
“Hell yeah, but you need to pick a safeword before we leave.”
“It used to be red, but obviously I’m changing it. How about blue?”
“Whatever works for you, baby.”
“Please don’t call me baby.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I do, and unless this is a hard limit, I’ll call you whatever I want,”
Mickie B. Ashling is the pseudonym of a multifaceted woman who is a product of her upbringing in multiple cultures, having lived in Japan, the Philippines, Spain, and the Middle East. Fluent in three languages, she’s a citizen of the world and an interesting mixture of East and West. A little bit of this and a lot of that have brought a unique touch to her literary voice she could never learn from textbooks.
By the time Mickie discovered her talent for writing, real life got in the way, and the business of raising four sons took priority. With the advent of e-publishing–and the inevitable emptying nest–dreams of becoming a published writer were resurrected and she’s never looked back.
She stumbled into the world of men who love men in 2002 and continues to draw inspiration from their ongoing struggle to find equality and happiness in this oftentimes skewed and intolerant world. She admits to being an angst queen and making her men work damn hard for their happy endings.
Mickie currently resides in a suburb outside Chicago.