Prologue
Branden admired his handiwork. Sloan was face down on the bed, his hands roped to the headboard, his legs wide apart and each foot tied to a bedpost. Several pillows pushed under his flat stomach kept his ass raised high. Stretched out like this, his six-foot-four inches easily reached from the head of the bed to the foot, because Branden had bound the ropes quite firmly, allowing Sloan very little movement.
Branden crouched on the bed between Sloan’s legs, a jar of oil in his hands. He gently ran a slippery palm over one of Sloan’s shoulders and down his spine, then along his side and back up to the shoulder again. Sloan shivered. “Jeez, Brand. Will you for f**k’s sake stick that finger in my ass, so we can get to the main part of the program here?”
“Patience, patience. That’s
