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By Bailey Bradford

When you think you'll never fit it, never be whole, love can show you a truth you've never seen.

Adal has been abused all of his life. The only person who cared for him was his brother, Steven. Without him, Adal would have been killed long ago. After he and Steven are sent on a mission for their twisted father, they learn they've been pawns in an evil plot all along. And that their father has been slowly killing them, one pill at a time.

Steven leaves Adal to seek revenge and secure safety for them in the world. Adal is astounded to find out he has a mate. A halfbreed like him shouldn't have anyone to love, should he?

Dorso Rodriguez doesn't know what hit him, literally or figuratively. A fun-loving guy, he wakes up with a knot on his head and a strange, sexy, scarred man who's scared and defiant and intriguing.

Together they embark on a journey to defeat the demons from Adal's past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: May 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781784300272

Bailey Bradford

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn't happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey's brain demanding to be let out. Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey's office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey's presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

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A Totally Bound Publication

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ISBN # 978-1-78430-027-2

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2014

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2014

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 3.

Spotless

HIDE

Bailey Bradford

Book one in the Spotless series

When you think you’ll never fit it, never be whole, love can show you a truth you’ve never seen.

Adal has been abused all of his life. The only person who cared for him was his brother, Steven. Without him, Adal would have been killed long ago. After he and Steven are sent on a mission for their twisted father, they learn they’ve been pawns in an evil plot all along. And that their father has been slowly killing them, one pill at a time.

Steven leaves Adal to seek revenge and secure safety for them in the world. Adal is astounded to find out he has a mate. A halfbreed like him shouldn’t have anyone to love, should he?

Dorso Rodriguez doesn’t know what hit him, literally or figuratively. A fun-loving guy, he wakes up with a knot on his head and a strange, sexy, scarred man who’s scared and defiant and intriguing.

Together they embark on a journey to defeat the demons from Adal’s past.

Dedication

We are shaped by our pasts, but not bound by them.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

UPS: United Parcel Service of America, Inc.

Chapter One

Dorso Rodriguez.

Adal stared at the unconscious man. Dorso had woken up a few minutes here and there, but he’d only blinked and asked what had happened before sleeping again.

Dorso Rodriguez. Adal liked thinking the name, and he liked saying it softly. The letters rolled off his tongue, and inside, he went all warm and tingly when he spoke it.

He went all warm and tingly every time he looked at or touched Dorso Rodriguez, for that matter.

The last name especially was almost musical to Adal. He didn’t have a last name, and he didn’t have friends like Dorso did.

No friends at all. For a moment, Adal wondered what it’d be like to have people care about him.

Steven, he whispered. There was one person in the world that gave a damn about Adal. Steven, his half-brother. Like Adal, Steven had no last name. They were both half-breed shifters, despised by their society for a luck-of-the-draw birth neither of them had chosen.

But their father Bashuan, a full-blooded Amur leopard shifter, had bred with two puma shifter females, and hence Adal and Steven had been born.

Steven first, Adal a few years later. Sadness threatened to overwhelm him, so Adal went back to focusing on Dorso. Dorso was, after all, his mate—a fact Adal was still struggling to accept. He hadn’t thought halfbreeds had destined mates. Would have denied it repeatedly, except for the warm fuzzies he got from even being near Dorso. Perhaps he’d been told wrong, but Adal didn’t think so. Looking at Dorso, everything in him called out to some deep, hidden part of Adal.

Adal touched Dorso’s fluttering pulse point. The skin of his neck was warm and darkly tanned. Wake up, please, Adal urged. The silence and utter aloneness was driving his nerves into the ground. Please, he added again as he stroked Dorso’s chest.

He’d dared to remove the man’s shirt and pants, along with his boots. That had left Dorso in black boxer briefs and red crew socks with pink hearts all over them. Adal was charmed by those pink hearts, and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe because it made Dorso unique, or unlike any stereotype Adal could imagine.

Dorso’s chest was broader than Adal’s, his upper body more muscular. He had swirls of dense brown chest hair, not so thick that his large cocoa-colored nipples were hidden, though.

Adal wanted to touch those nipples and see if the skin there was as smooth as it appeared to be. He didn’t do any such thing. It was wrong to fondle a guy when he was sleeping, even if the man was Adal’s mate. Dorso knew none of that, not what Adal was, or what they were to each other. Adal wouldn’t take advantage—he wasn’t a pervert or without morals.

He did look—at Dorso’s chest, at the deeply sculpted abs, the slightly protruding belly button, the narrowing line of hair that disappeared beneath Dorso’s underwear. There was a substantial bulge beneath those briefs that made Adal’s mouth water when he glanced at it.

Adal did know that the light sheen of hair on Dorso’s legs, chest and arms was softer than he’d expected. He knew Dorso’s elbows and hands were chafed, likely from working on engines and crawling around under vehicles. There was a long, fading scar on Dorso’s right knee, from an old injury or surgery of some sort.

Another scar higher up, on Dorso’s belly, was probably from an appendectomy. Shifters didn’t have such issues, but Adal had seen that scar and panicked. He’d called Bae Warren, who was mind-boggingly nice, all things considered, and Bae had told him what an appendectomy was.

It made Adal’s guts hurt just thinking about it. Humans were just so fragile, it was frightening.

Especially when one of them had been knocked unconscious and wasn’t waking up fast enough to suit Adal. He had no idea about human healing times, but a shifter would have been over the head injury in a matter of a few hours.

Dorso had been hit the day before.

By Adal’s brother, Steven.

Steven didn’t know then. He didn’t know Dorso was my mate. If Bae and Isaiah hadn’t told me, hadn’t confirmed what I was feeling was something real—

Adal wasn’t going there. He’d had too much happen in the past twenty-four hours himself, too many changes to his life that he’d never, ever have thought would happen.

Steven had left him, vowing to kill their father Bashuan before Bashuan could send more guards out to kill Adal and Steven. Adal was very much afraid Steven would fail. Bashuan was evil incarnate, the rest of the world just didn’t know it yet. There was a chance that Steven would survive, but Adal couldn’t picture his life with Bashuan no longer a threat to it.

He had no intention of letting his mind meander into the darkness, as it so frequently did. There was hope, a spark of it at least, burning in Adal’s soul.

If he and Dorso could vanish somewhere Bashuan would never find them, if Steven did succeed in killing Bashuan…if if if! So many ifs, and nothing I’m sure of, except that Dorso Rodriguez fascinates me as no one has before.

Adal curled the fingers of one hand against the cool chest hair. Please, he begged again with less pride than before. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t know how to be alone here. If I were locked in our room or chained to the wall, I would know how to accept that. He sank into himself then, retreating from the horrors of life into the beauty of imagination. His was probably quite limited, but he could fantasize about being free, or being someone else, someone who’d been born into a family and was loved.

Dorso coughed, or cleared his throat, Adal wasn’t sure which and either way, it startled him into a yelp as he tumbled off the bed. His butt hit the floor and the impact jarred him all the way to the top of his head.

What the hell? Dorso rasped. Goddamn, my head…

Adal scrambled up to his feet. His heart alternated between fluttering and slamming as he looked into Dorso’s pretty pale green eyes. And found himself unable to speak beyond, Uh.

Dorso blinked slowly, as if he wasn’t going to actually open his eyes again. What happened? he asked, his voice just as gruff and broken as it had been the first time. He reached up with a shaky hand and touched his left temple. Fuck.

The grimace he made and the way his skin lightened a couple of shades knocked Adal from his stupor. He caught Dorso by the wrist and gently tugged his hand down. Dishonesty didn’t occur to him. You were hit, by my brother Steven.

Why?

That wasn’t as easily answered, not because Adal was evasive, but because it was complicated. The truth was going to make Steven, and himself, look like the worst sort of people. Adal just hoped Dorso would let him explain it all, eventually.

Do you want some water? Adal asked, reaching for the glass he’d sat beside the bed. You’ve been out of it for a full day and night, well mostly out of it. You should keep hydrated.

Dorso watched him for a long moment, and Adal tried not to shiver. While he managed to keep it inside, more of an internal quivering, Adal’s discomfiture seemed to make the words spill out uncensored. Your eyes are so oddly colored. Heat flared over his face as he heard himself speak. I mean—I didn’t mean that bad. They’re very…nice… He tapered off, wishing he could just melt away from the embarrassment.

He couldn’t avert his gaze. Dorso’s eyes weren’t just a pale green, they were kind of grayish, too, and ringed in a shade of smoky blue. Mine are just brown, Adal babbled, nervousness giving the words wings even though he’d rather that not have happened. Plain brown, not gray and blue and green like yours.

Dorso’s lips twitched. Adal’s head actually buzzed with dizziness when he saw them stretch into a lazy smile.

Dorso was devastating, handsome in a rough, real way that Adal hadn’t quite grasped until that moment. There was nothing pretty about Dorso. He didn’t have any softness at all when it came to the shape of his features. His eyes were wide, but they were topped with bushy brown eyebrows that leant him a rather harsh air. His nose was a little too large, with a bump that bespoke of a break or two, and he had a wide jaw with a squared chin that gave him a stubborn look.

And he had stubble, lots of it, something Adal never had. Body hair was just that for him—body hair, it didn’t extend up to his neck or face. He didn’t have much of it, either, and could never grow a beard.

Just brown, he said again, then shook himself literally, because if he didn’t get his act together, Dorso was going to think Adal had taken a hard blow to the head, too. I’m Adal. Just Adal. I don’t have a last name. I— Sorry. I’ll… Water. Here.

Well, that wasn’t a whole lot better, but at least he didn’t start trying to make up poems about Dorso’s eyes. Adal lifted the glass and brought it to Dorso’s lips.

Dorso quirked a brow at him and Adal blushed again. He’d been foolish not to think about a man’s pride. Of course Dorso would want to hold the glass himself, even if his hands were shaking.

Adal waited until Dorso had a grip on the glass. Their fingers more than brushed together—Dorso closed his hand around half of Adal’s. Adal started to pull his hand back, then couldn’t figure out how without causing Dorso to drop the whole thing.

And Dorso just kept giving him that amused look.

Adal’s cock grew erect while he watched as Dorso tipped the glass and took a sip. It shouldn’t have been erotic, watching a man drink, yet Adal was suddenly and fiercely aroused. His pulse raced and he wanted things he didn’t even know how to wish for. It was Dorso, just Dorso, and whatever he’d do with Adal, to him, that Adal craved.

Dorso’s eyes went darker as his pupils expanded. He moved the glass away from his mouth, then licked the moisture from his lips.

The moan slipped free before Adal could censor it. He barely caught the glass in his grip when Dorso suddenly released it.

Adal was fast. He had a shifter’s superb senses, except for when he was ill. Usually. His brain must have been addled by the hyper-arousal he was feeling because he didn’t even see Dorso reach for him. One second Adal was fumbling the glass, the next he was grabbed by the shirtfront and jerked down.

The glass went flying, Adal dropping it and letting it fall to the floor. He didn’t resist at all as Dorso brought him down. Adal could only stare at those wet, parted lips and yearn for something he’d never thought he’d have.

A kiss. Just one, to know what it was like to be wanted.

Dorso, even injured, clearly wanted him. Adal could smell it, could see the flush of it rising up to color Dorso’s cheeks.

Adal’s breath shortened to nothing more than a pant as he waited, wanting to prove his willingness to please.

Dorso cupped the back of his head and brought them together. Adal closed his eyes as his vision blurred. He sank into the sensation of lips moving beneath his and moaned happily.

The slick glide of tongue made his knees weak and he lowered himself to the bed. Oh, the feeling of Dorso’s body alongside his!

Adal wiggled closer, seeking more of the heat rolling off Dorso’s form. Dorso gripped his head tighter and pushed his tongue in deeper, sweeping it through the depths of Adal’s mouth.

Adal was being marked, claimed, tasted and devoured. He had to touch Dorso, hang onto him and feel the hard planes of his chest beneath Adal’s palms.

It was the most beautiful moment in Adal’s life. He had a second of stark terror wherein fear welled up that he’d disappoint Dorso with the kiss. Adal had never kissed anyone, not even a brotherly peck to Steven, not once in his life.

But he followed Dorso’s lead, moved his tongue and suckled gently while Dorso did both with more force.

Adal had followed Steven’s lead forever, and following was what he felt most comfortable doing. Having Dorso take command relieved Adal of his fears and doubts in regards to the kiss. He let himself melt against Dorso, opened his mouth wider and whimpered, hoping the sound bled into Dorso and told him how much Adal needed him to stay in charge.

Dorso fisted one hand in Adal’s hair and grabbed his ass with the other. Adal squeaked in surprise. Fear reignited in him, tangling with a need to strong he could hardly think.

Dorso squeezed his butt and gave Adal’s hair a tug. Adal slithered on top of Dorso and parted his legs, framing the outer sides of Dorso’s thighs. The position aligned their cocks exquisitely and Adal’s heartbeat ratcheted up even higher as he thrust.

Dorso pushed his tongue in deeper then scraped his teeth over Adal’s lower lip. At the same time, he pushed his fingers into the seam of Adal’s ass, pressing against his hole.

Adal’s orgasm rocketed throughout his body without warning. He’d never felt anything like it, going so hot he expected to combust as rapturous pleasure washed up from his groin. Adal gasped and rutted, mindless with bliss, chasing more and more of his release.

He didn’t even care when he was rolled, when Dorso caught up one of his legs and began thrusting, driving his rigid dick over Adal’s groin. He did manage to open his eyes, because he needed to see his mate. Dorso looked absolutely fierce, teeth bared as his lips thinned, sweat coating his skin, tendons standing out in his neck as he humped against Adal.

Adal could only hold on, gripping Dorso’s forearms and moaning as his own climax dragged out longer than he’d ever experienced before.

Dorso grunted with every thrust. His hips snapped harder, and it was almost painful for Adal, yet he craved each drive, each grinding shove. He got a hand down to Dorso’s hip and held on there, curling his fingers into a bruising grip.

It spurred Dorso on. Adal was pushed up the bed by the next thrust, then Dorso bore down on him, hissing and cursing as wet heat spread between their groins.

Adal’s cock hadn’t gone soft at all. Couldn’t, not when Dorso was coming apart because of him. No one had ever been interested in him, had ever looked at him with lust. Adal’s world, in the past twenty-four hours, had truly been tipped on its axis.

And Dorso’s had, too, though he didn’t know it yet.

Fuck, Dorso muttered brokenly as he jerked above Adal. What…the…fuck… he got out between gasps. What just happened? I don’t even know you. Fuck. Dorso rolled off him. My head.

Adal’s pleasure vanished as if he’d been tossed into frigid waters. He didn’t know who or what he was more afraid of, Dorso, the conversation they were going to have, being a disappointment to his mate—everything was so uncertain.

It was something he should have been used to, as Adal had never known if he’d be allowed to live from one day to the next, and yet this fear was different, worse. If his mate rejected him, Adal didn’t know what he’d do.

Chapter Two

One minute, he’d been asleep, the next, he’d woken up to find himself staring at the sexiest man he’d ever seen. Adal, just Adal. Who doesn’t have a last name? And why does it feel like a goddamned grenade