Thornwell Shipton is wealthy, uptight, closeted, and an incurable workaholic. A tragic love affair left him terrified of relationships, of risking his heart and getting hurt again, so he tells himself sex is better scheduled and paid for.

Riley Dashwood is young, easy-going, and comfortable in his own skin. He’s a passionate baker and an aspiring chef, working as an escort to save up for culinary school.

They’re clearly made for each other.

When Thorne hires Dash, it’s lust at first sight. After a few scorching nights together, both men start to wonder if what they have together is more than physical, but their age gap and resistance to romance make them afraid to change their professional relationship to a personal one. Dash pushes Thorne to admit he wants things he’s denied himself for years. Kinky things. Soft, caring things. Things that force him to open his heart, not just his body. To move forward, one or the other must take a risk and ask for what he really wants.

Professional Distance by Silvia Violet

Copyright © 2015 by Silvia Violet

SMASHWORDS Edition

Cover art by LC Chase

Edited by Keren Reed

All Rights Reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Published in the United States of America.

Professional Distance is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictionalized. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

Thornwell Shipton was not pleased. He’d worked his ass off all week, never getting more than a couple of hours of sleep, and one thing that had kept him going was knowing that on Friday night, he would take a few hours off while his favorite rent boy buried himself balls deep in Thorne’s ass. Now he had a message from the escort service telling him there was an issue with his appointment and he should contact them. He was in no mood to deal with more issues. Work had already thrown enough of those his way.

He double-checked that his office door was locked and then tapped his phone to return the call. As it rang, he stared out over the city hundreds of feet below. His office had a lovely view of Atlanta’s Olympic Park, but he rarely noticed it these days.

Sheila, the woman who ran the service, answered just when Thorne was sure her voicemail would pick up. “Hello, Mr. Shipton. I’m sorry we had to bother you.”

Sheila had a pleasant, soothing voice that probably worked wonders on many of their clients, but Thorne wasn’t in the mood to be soothed. “What’s the problem?”

“Marc isn’t going to be working for us anymore.”