
Deposit Required
A High-Heat MM Age-Gap Romance
by Jace Wilder
Free with Kindle Unlimited
Pairing: MM
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Escort/Client, Age Gap, Touch Starved, Praise Kink, Control/Surrender, Possessive Hero, Grief Recovery, Slow Burn
He paid for the hours. He never planned to pay with his heart.
Renzo Hale is one of the city’s most exclusive male companions. He sells time, attention, fantasy, and discretion—but never the unguarded man beneath the tailored clothes.
Alaric Wynn is a forty-seven-year-old luxury hotel developer who hasn’t touched anyone since his husband died four years ago. He books Renzo for one evening, intending to prove that physical intimacy no longer has the power to hurt him.
Instead, Renzo recognizes a man who isn’t afraid of sex. Alaric is afraid of wanting it.
One evening becomes a weekly appointment. Weekly appointments become an exclusivity contract. Alaric pays for dinners, travel, touch, and the illusion that he can control when Renzo enters and leaves his life.
But the arrangement begins to collapse when Renzo starts staying beyond the purchased hours, Alaric starts asking for affection that can’t be written into a contract, and both men discover that the most intimate moments are the ones for which no invoice is ever issued.
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ Silver fox widower x beautiful young escort
✅ Escort/client with genuine feelings and sex-work-positive treatment
✅ Praise kink so intense it breaks the powerful man open
✅ Slow burn that EXPLODES (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — graphic, explicit, emotional)
✅ Touch starvation, body worship, blindfolds, and formalwear
✅ Grief handled without making the late husband a villain
✅ HEA guaranteed
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MM scenes including edging, blindfolds, restraints, praise kink, and body worship), strong language, on-page grief and loss, discussions of terminal illness, and depictions of jealousy and possessive behavior. Sex-work-positive. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One: The Appointment
The razor caught the light as Renzo tilted it beneath his jaw, and he paused—not because his hand was unsteady, but because steadiness was the entire point. Every detail mattered tonight. The line of his jaw, clean. The edges of his stubble, precise enough to look deliberate but soft enough to press against skin without leaving a mark. He rinsed the blade under hot water and watched the steam curl against the mirror.
Seven-thirty. Ninety minutes until the car arrived.
He worked through the rest of his routine with the unhurried efficiency of a man who understood that preparation was not vanity. It was architecture. The right shirt changed the way a client’s eyes traveled. The right cologne—applied to pulse points, never sprayed into the air like some department-store amateur—created an olfactory memory that outlasted the evening.
Renzo selected the dark green silk. It caught light beautifully without trying too hard, and the color warmed his skin in a way that made people want to touch him. Black trousers, slim but not painted on. The thin gold rings—three tonight, index and middle fingers on his left hand, thumb on the right. The small hoop in his left ear. Belt, shoes, coat. Each piece chosen, not grabbed.
Good. He looked like exactly what he was: someone worth the price.
Client: Alaric Wynn. First appointment. Screening verified. Requested: dinner, conversation, physical affection, the possibility of sex. No specific fantasy indicated. Rate: accepted without negotiation. Duration: four hours.
This was going to be either the simplest evening of his month or the most complicated.
“The green silk.”
“Fuck. Poor bastard doesn’t stand a chance.”
The car arrived at nine.
The door opened within three seconds. Alaric Wynn had been waiting by it. His first impression was large. Broad shoulders that filled his dark suit jacket without straining it. Silver threaded generously through dark hair at the temples. Pale eyes—blue-gray, wintry—that assessed Renzo with the same evaluative precision Renzo was using on him. A nose that had been broken at least once. A wedding band on his right hand. Still worn but moved from the left.
“I haven’t done this before,” Alaric said. Not apologetically. Factually.
“I know. Because you opened the door within three seconds of my knock, which means you were standing beside it. You poured the wine before I arrived, which means you needed something to do with your hands. And you put twelve feet of dining table between us, which means you haven’t decided how close you want me yet.”
“I’m not afraid of sex.” He paused. The pause was long enough to hold an entire history. “I’m afraid of wanting it.”
“Those aren’t the same thing,” Renzo said.
“No.” Alaric met his eyes. “They’re not.”
And noticed, as they left the table, that Alaric’s hand had gone to his chest rather than his ring.
Want to keep reading? The full novel is available now.
🔥 Want an EXCLUSIVE Bonus Chapter?
Room Service — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon
Six months later. The Amalfi Coast. A hotel that isn’t Alaric’s. A balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. Wall sex, body worship, stolen bread, and the filthiest, most tender chapter in the series.
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The Year We Stopped Pretending
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The key was for emergencies. Wanting the man upstairs wasn't supposed to count.
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