Five-Star Anonymous

High-Heat MM Luxury Hotel Romance
by Jace Wilder

Free with Kindle Unlimited

Pairing: MM

Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno

Tropes: Anonymous Hookup, Hidden Identity, Professional Enemies, Age Gap (13 years), Praise Kink, Snowed In, Forced Proximity, Luxury Hotel, Secret Relationship, Workplace Sabotage

One storm. One hotel suite. One night without surnames, careers, or consequences. Then he walks into my hotel with a critic’s badge and enough influence to destroy everything I’ve spent years rebuilding.

We agreed to remain anonymous.

A record-breaking blizzard strands luxury-hotel GM August Lemaire at an airport property with one available suite and a stranger at the bar who makes him forget every rule he’s ever enforced. For one night, August surrenders control to a man who asks nothing except honesty — and gives him the first real rest he’s had in years.

Three weeks later, Nikhil Sethi walks into the Halcyon Chicago carrying a critic’s notebook and enough influence to make or break the most important opening of August’s career.

Their affair continues behind service corridors and locked doors — praise and surrender and the slow, devastating discovery that the man who can dismantle August’s composure is also the only one who makes him want to stop performing.

Then confidential reports leak online, and every failure inside the Halcyon points toward the man sleeping in August’s bed.

You’ll love this book if you enjoy:

✅ Experienced older hero who secretly craves surrender
✅ Confident younger hero with a praise kink that wrecks
✅ Anonymous hookup → professional enemies → unstoppable attraction
✅ Luxury hotel setting dripping with tension and brass fixtures
✅ Explicit, graphic heat with emotional depth (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️)
✅ HEA guaranteed

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⚠️ Content Warning: Explicit MM content, strong language, workplace sabotage, corporate corruption, elevator entrapment, trust rupture. No cheating. Guaranteed HEA. 18+.

📖 Read Chapter One Free

Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.

Chapter One: August

The Northline Airport Hotel is running a skeleton crew during the worst blizzard Chicago has seen in fourteen years, and whoever scheduled tonight’s front desk has never managed a weather event in their life.

I can tell from the lobby. Two agents for a property this size, three hundred displaced passengers rotating through the doors every hour, and the night manager is nowhere visible.

I should not care about any of this. I don’t work here.

My phone buzzes again. Beckett, texting from the Halcyon: Faucet handles. I see them. I’ll fix them. Go sleep somewhere.

An elderly couple is standing near the elevator bank. I cross the lobby before I’ve made a conscious decision. “Fourth floor is to the left when you exit the elevator. Even-numbered rooms face the courtyard — quieter, less highway noise.”

The woman blinks at me. “Do you work here?”

“No, ma’am. Just a long night for everyone.”

The hotel bar is still open. Barely. I take the stool at the far end, order bourbon neat.

“You straightened the bar menu when you sat down.” The voice comes from two stools to my left. Male. Warm. Faintly amused. He’s younger than me — early thirties, though the confidence reads older. Dark eyes that catch the bar light with an almost editorial attentiveness.

“So either you’re a hotel inspector who can’t turn it off, or you’re a man who hasn’t been off the clock in a very long time.”

“Both.” His mouth curves. “Both is honest. I like honest.”

“They have one suite left,” he says. “It seems wasteful for one person during a blizzard.”

Six professional reasons to decline. “Lead the way.”

“Then come inside, August.” I walk through the door. He closes it behind us. And for the first time in longer than I can calculate, I stop counting what could fail.

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