Read Rachel Haimowitz & Cat Grant - [Power Play 1] Online
Authors: Power Play Resistance
Riptide Publishing
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of
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Power Play: Resistance
Copyright © 2012 by Cat Grant and Rachel Haimowitz
Cover art by Imaliea, http://imaliea.deviantart.com
Editor: Carole-ann Galloway
Layout design: L.C. Chase, http://lcchase.com/design.htm
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ISBN: 978-1-937551-28-5
Also available in paperback:
ISBN: 978-1-937551-33-9
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Give me six months, and I’ll give you the world.
Brandon McKinney has scraped and sacrificed for what little in life he’s ever
had. Though it’s been fifteen years since he escaped his father’s abuse, the
damage remains. Trust seems as far out of reach as his dream of becoming an
architect, and though he’s come to accept being gay, he can’t deny the shame
and confusion he feels at other urges—the deeply repressed desire to submit.
Jonathan Watkins is a self-made Silicon Valley billionaire whose ex-wife took
half his money and even more of his faith. Comfortable as a Dominant but
wary of being hurt again, he resorts to anonymous pickups and occasional six-
month contracts with subs seeking only a master, not a lover.
When a sizzling back-alley encounter cues Jonathan in to Brandon’s deep-
seated submissive side, he makes the man an offer: Give me six months of
your life, and I’ll open your eyes to a whole new world. Brandon doesn’t care
about that; all he wants is the three million dol ars Jonathan’s offering so he
can buy the construction company he works for. But he soon learns that six
months on his knees is no easy feat, and shame and pride may keep him from
all he ever wanted—and all he never dreamed he had any right to have.
For everyone who’s ever felt shame at their desires.
Don’t. Be proud; you are perfect the way you are.
Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Chapter 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
Chapter 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
Chapter 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Chapter 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
Chapter 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
Chapter 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
Chapter 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
Chapter 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Chapter 15 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178
Chapter 16 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
Chapter 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214
Chapter 18 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
Chapter 19 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
Chapter 20 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244
Chapter 21 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257
CHAPTER
1
ognac, please.”
Bran looked up from his beer at the preppy little moron who’d
just sat down beside him.
Fucking tourists.
Jian Li blinked twice and went back to cleaning glasses behind
the bar.
The moron cleared his throat. “Pardon me? Sir?”
Jian Li kept ignoring him. Tourists tipped for shit anyway. Bran
took a sip of his beer—warm like the Chinese always drank it;
wouldn’t that throw Mr. Tourist for a loop—and decided to take pity
on the man.
He was kind of cute, after al .
Bran planted his elbows on the bar and raised an eyebrow at the
guy. “Lost?” he asked.
Mr. Tourist blinked at him like he hadn’t already checked
Bran out—though he obviously had, else why invade his space at
an otherwise empty bar—and flashed him a bright smile. “Not
anymore.”
Strange diction. Not quite New England, not quite old England.
Certainly not California. The tourist cast his eyes about the crowded
room, and Bran could see the exact moment when he registered the
lack of white faces in the bar. “No cognac, then?”
Bran chuffed into his beer. “Don’t get a whole lot of call for it in
this place. Jian Li,” he said, raising his hand to catch the bartender’s
attention. “A beer for the
Gweilo
, please.” Jian Li gave him a small
nod and an even smaller smirk, and Mr. Tourist turned to him with
a quizzical glance. “That’s what everybody here calls me,” Bran said
with a shrug. “Beer’s warm, by the way.”
Jian Li placed a mug in front of Mr. Tourist with a curt nod.
Mr. Tourist took a sip and tried very hard not to grimace. Bran
stifled a snort.
“Yes, well . . . much obliged. Next round’s on me.”
This time Bran didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Who says
there’s gonna be a next round?” He drained what was left in his mug,
then nodded at Mr. Tourist’s. “Since it looks like you’re not gonna
drink that . . .” Bran scooped it up and saluted him with it. “Thanks,
pal.” Then he nodded at Jian Li, got up, and sauntered over to the
nearest table.
He felt Mr. Tourist’s gaze burning a hole in the seat of his jeans