Making a Mark by @MeganSlayer #gay #gayromance #romance #sportsromance #erotic #bdsm #bondageromance

Making a Mark by Megan Slayer MARK

Track Domination, book 5

SuperNova Indie Publishing

M/M, BDSM, Anal Sex, Toys, Bondage, Spanking

Novella

Available now!

Opening eyes and hearts, one mark at a time.

The only thing Tate Blauser’s ever wanted to do was race. Motor oil runs through his veins. His wild spirit has kept him from becoming a world class driver. He needs a miracle or he’ll lose his ride with Big R.

Enter Kennedy Crowse. He’s no pushover. The man handles tough drivers and tough submissives with ease. He sees the submissive side of Tate. With a little time, patience and care, the kid could be unstoppable. But there’s one hitch—the rules at Big R forbid staff from dating.

Can these two find a balance between work and play or will bending the rules be the biggest mark on their lives?

 

Available at:

https://books2read.com/u/31xz0r

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07J1S91G8/

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/making-a-mark-megan-slayer/1129686150?ean=2940161570128

https://books.apple.com/us/book/making-a-mark/id1438069047?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/making-a-mark-3

https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=6idxDwAAQBAJ

EXCERPT:

@copyright Megan Slayer 2019

Tate slammed into the corners for the requested two laps, pushing the truck to the limit

before he slowed down and turned onto the pit lane. He cut the power to the engine. Kennedy

stood on the opposite side of the wall, scribbling something onto his clipboard. Tate fiddled with

the connections on his helmet. The quicker he got out of the truck, the sooner he’d get reamed

out by Kennedy. God knew, Floyd lived to berate him.

Better suck it up and take the tongue lashing.

Tate removed his helmet and clutched it to his stomach. “So?”

“You’re really quiet on the radio,” Kennedy said. He didn’t look up. “Have you always

been so reserved?”

“It’s a habit.”

Kennedy stopped writing. His brows knotted, and he stared at Tate. “He really treated

you like shit, didn’t he? I thought maybe the race I’d listened in to was a fluke.” He shook his

head and resumed scrawling on the paper. “Once you locked in and found your rhythm, you were

fine. Laps six to twelve looked great. What were you thinking about?”

Focus. The guy meant business, not anything else. Tate wanted to reply, “you,” but he

doubted Kennedy would appreciate that. “Tearing up the corners.”

Once again, Kennedy stopped writing. He snorted. “Uh-huh. The sandwiches arrived

during your lap thirteen, so why don’t we close things down here and take them to my office?”

He glanced around the track. “Where do they keep this truck? In the garage?”

“In the semi behind you.” Tate pointed in the direction of the massive vehicle. “Doesn’t

make much sense, but they only let me play with the race trucks during the race weekend. I can’t

even test them during test sessions. I have to run this one.”

“Is it set up the same?”

“Hell if I know. Floyd kept me clueless.”

“Jesus.” Kennedy fluttered his hand. “Put the truck away, and we’ll head to the office.

I’ve got a plan for Texas, but it’s going to get bumpy before it gets better. Can you handle a few

bumps?”

Tate grinned. He wanted more than a bumpy ride from the handsome crew chief. He

wanted the man’s hand on his ass and his growl in his ear. For the time being, he’d settle for a

decent working relationship. “Deal.”

 

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