by Tatum Throne
Hard Hits 17
Training Strong
Detective Maksim “Max” Strong is a profiler with the CPD, coming off a really bad break up with his Dom. When his life is turned sideways, he meets Kace and immediately feels an intense sexual attraction he can’t ignore. All Maksim can think about is having Kace as his Daddy Dom.
Despite only being in his thirties, they call Lt. Kace Oliver “the Silver Fox.” When he’s called out to investigate a car crash Max is involved in, he can’t ignore his attraction for the guy. Kace is a Dom without a submissive. When he’s assigned as a SWAT mentor to Maksim, he knows he shouldn’t cross the line. But, determined to be there for him, Kace is unable to resist temptation.
Maksim falls hard for Kace and knows he would be risking everything by telling his Dom he’s fallen in love. Will he take the risk or end things before he gets a broken heart?
Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), BDSM, Contemporary
Length: 23,286 words
TRAINING STRONG
Hard Hits 17
Tatum Throne

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
TRAINING STRONG
Copyright © 2017 by Tatum Throne
ISBN: 978-1-64010-325-2
First Publication: May 2017
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
I want to give a special thank you to all my readers who have been there for me every step of the way—especially Donna, for always encouraging me and being there! You’re the best!
For the Throne boys. Always.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tatum Throne has a master’s degree in social work. She left the field of medical social work to be a stay-at-home mom and to pursue her dreams of writing romance. She has three rambunctious boys with her husband, Mr. Throne, three rowdy rabbits named Coco, Snowball, and Fluffy, and one hamster named Carmel.
When not indulging her fantasies, Tatum enjoys baking chocolate-chip cookies, hiking, spending time with her family, and spreading awareness of eosinophilic disorders.
You can find Tatum all over the web at:
www.tatumthrone.blogspot.com
Find her on Facebook!
For all titles by Tatum Throne, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/tatum-throne
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Landmarks
Cover
TRAINING STRONG
Hard Hits 17
TATUM THRONE
Copyright © 2017
Prologue
Detective Maksim Strong couldn’t get his life together. Annoyed, he drove away from District Two after putting in a twelve-hour day on the high-profile case he was working. He had another three hours to put in with a SWAT seminar that was starting in twenty minutes across town.
The rain-slicked streets echoed out in front of him. It seemed like it was always raining nowadays.
Lights flooded brightly in his mirror as a car raced up behind him, cutting his gaze away from the drone of the wiper blades going back and forth.
The car tailgating him was out of control. Maksim tapped the breaks as he maneuvered to the narrow shoulder. The jerk behind him gunned the engine, stalking his bumper like a spurned lover.
Maksim gripped the wheel tightly, wishing he wasn’t in his unmarked patrol car. Bright lights blurred his vision as it came in fast, striking his bumper—forcing him off the road.
Trees flashed in front of him as he tried to correct his out-of-control car. Panic raced through his veins as the asshole chasing him rammed a second time.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of the SUV speeding away as his unmarked car hit the guardrail, flipping into the air. Glass shattered in Maksim’s face as everything moved in slow motion. Maksim’s unmarked car landed hard on the hood, spinning it around to come to rest against the trees.
Smoke from the airbag filled the compartment as he hung upside down.
Holy fuck.
He looked out the shattered window, stunned and frightened. He had to call it in. Maksim reached for the middle console where he stuck his cell. The console was smashed upon impact and wouldn’t open. Maksim pushed off the ceiling, cutting the seatbelt to get out.
He dragged his body out of the crunched side window, sliding his ass through the mud and rain to get out. When he was free, he heard sirens off in the distance. Relief moved through his blood—thankfully someone had seen the accident.
Rain hammered down through the canopy of trees covering him. Smoke billowed from the hood of the car. Who the fuck had run him off the road? The possibilities were endless. He had a tendency to make enemies and not friends.
“Dude, tell me you’re okay?”
The guy appeared above him. “Yeah. I am. Help me up?”
“Maybe you should stay put until the ambulance gets here.”
“It’s okay. I’m a cop.”
He frowned hard. “Okay.”
Pain shot down Maksim’s side as he took the guy’s hand, getting vertical again. Everything around him spun as flashing lights of first responders landed on the scene.
The guy at his side helped him up the embankment to the police car that was now on the side of the road. Maksim recognized the officer who stepped out as Lt. Oliver. The officer was supposed to start training him next week for SWAT. This was not how he wanted to meet the man for the first time.
“You hurt?”
“No.” He looked as though he wanted to argue that point with him but thought better of it.
“Hang tight here.”
Maksim was physically parked next to the police cruiser as he watched Lt. Kace Oliver a.k.a. “Knock Out” from his ability to take suspects down and the fact that he was hot as fuck. He was a silver fox and completely unavailable—emotionally or physically—unless you happened to be a suspect on the run. Lt. Oliver had a bit of a reputation for being a sex god but was never seen dating anyone. He had no idea how he got the reputation.
Rain dripped down from the leaves above his head, hitting Maksim in the face. Inside, he was still shaking from the accident. Flashes from the accident played over and over in his mind. The car looked familiar, b
ut he couldn’t place it.
Could it be the person attacking gays in hate crimes? It couldn’t, could it? He shook off the notion as to think otherwise was just too damn scary.
As a profiler, he could manage the hell out of the criminals he investigated, but he couldn’t profile his lovers to save his life.
Chapter One
They called Lt. Kace Oliver “the Silver Fox.” He’d gone salt-and-pepper in his mid-twenties. Now that he was nearing his late thirties, everyone thought he was a lot older than he was. As a Dom, he acted a lot older than most guys his age.
Kace looked down the street at the accident scene of one of their own. Lights flashed from emergency vehicles still on the scene. Kace took measurements and wrote his findings in his waterproof notebook. Water drizzled off his police issued hat, blocking out some of the weather.
As an accident reconstructionist, his job was to figure out what the hell happened—considering the man who was in the accident wasn’t saying much and refused to go to the hospital.
Kace glanced over his shoulder at the way Maksim was leaning against the back of his car. He was even refusing to have a seat.
Detective Maksim Strong had been on his way to a training seminar when his official vehicle went off the road. At first glance, it looked like a simple accident. It was raining—conditions were right if one was not going the speed limit.
Kace walked down the road, seeing a second set of tire marks on the muddy shoulder. A chill raced over his skin. This was no accident. Maksim had been run off the road deliberately. Maksim had been lucky that he hadn’t struck any oncoming cars. That spoke highly of his training in tactical driving.
Kace’s boots slipped on the muddy embankment as he headed toward the wrecked car and the officer leaning inside it.
“Did you find his cell phone in his unmarked?” Kace asked.
“Yeah. Here it is. It was tucked away in the middle console like Strong said. He wasn’t using it at the time of the accident.”
“I’ll have IT confirm it with the phone company.”
There was something about this situation that bothered the hell out of Kace. Those tire marks sending him off the road was telling. As Kace walked the road, he snapped photos of the tread markings in the mud. At first glance, he knew right away they were from a truck or SUV. No car would have something this small on its wheels.
As the rain turned to a fine mist, a tow truck got there, flipping over the unmarked. When it was righted, Kace popped the trunk, removing the duffel bags and firearms from inside. Kace slung them over his shoulder as he went back to his vehicle. Strong was still leaning against it, looking shaken up.
Strong met him, offering to take one of the shotguns in his hand. Those impact cuts on his face and hands needed to be cleaned up.
Kace wanted to get Strong talking. A growing sense of urgency was driving him forward. As a Dom, he always had excellent protective instincts. There was something about this situation that put him on high alert.
Everything Kace knew about Maksim he had heard in passing. He’d never met the man before—not even during roll call or training. Oh, he’d heard the name and about all the great accomplishments he had. He was known for closing cases fast due to his ability to profile. He was recruited by the FBI but chose not to go.
He looked over Maksim. Even after flipping a car and getting wet from the rain, he was beautiful—younger than Kace was, with jet black hair. As he stared at his noble nose nicked with impact lacerations, Kace found himself moving toward Strong as though a powerful undertow was pulling them together. He just hoped that this riptide wouldn’t drown both of them.
As a Dom, he always had control of every situation in his life. This felt so surreal. He never investigated an accident of one of their own. He probably should have called in state police to handle it, but it was done.
With Strong at his side, Kace popped the trunk of his unmarked. He secured the firearms and Strong’s bags into the back. He shut the trunk.
Kace came in close, hoping to block out some of the wind and rain with his body. “You really should go to the hospital.”
“I’m not interested.”
Kace sighed heavily. “I need you to tell me what happened for the report. Have a seat. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Kace opened the passenger side door to his unmarked, waiting until Strong sat down inside. As he pushed away from the car, Kace saw the unmistakable grimace that came from someone in pain. He was going to get to the bottom of things when he drove him home later.
As the car was pulled up onto the tow truck, Kace went to talk to the driver. “Take it to District Two’s impound lot on Seventh.”
“Sure thing.”
When the scene was cleared, and the car was towed away to impound, Kace sat into his car, taking off his hat as he did. He ran a hand through his damp hair as he glanced over at Strong.
Kace started writing up his report on his silver clipboard. “What happened?”
“I was heading east on US-50 when a car ran me off the road by slamming into my bumper.”
Long pause. “Did you get a good look at it?”
“No. And they didn’t stop.”
“I need your license.” Their fingers brushed as Kace took the card. He looked at his name. Maksim Raiden Strong. Kace let his eyes linger over at Strong. “You go by Max?”
Their eyes locked. Within the dome lighting of the car, Kace saw his blue eyes cloud with what looked like regret. “Some of the guys on the force call me Max as a joke.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t stop until I’ve gotten my suspect.”
For some reason, Kace felt like he had to know. “What do you prefer to go by?”
“Just call me Strong. We don’t need to make this thing personal, Lieutenant.”
“I just need you to sign here, Detective.” As he watched him sign, Kace said, “You know I’m your training mentor for SWAT. Things tend to get personal.”
“I get it.”
As Strong took the pen with his left hand, he signed his name in a scribble. Kace stared at his signature for a moment, burning the memory of it into his mind. He shuffled his report away, setting it aside.
“Where am I taking you, home or to the hospital?”
Those blue eyes locked onto Kace. “Home. Covington. Twenty-One Maple Street.”
As Kace drove across the Big Mac Bridge to Covington, Kentucky, he couldn’t help but feel like he was helping Maksim run from something. He was slouched in the seat with his legs spread wide. His gaze was fixed out the window as Kace parked his car on the street in front of his apartment building.
“Do you live alone?”
Long pause.
“Yeah…but you don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine.” There was a nervous quiver in his voice. “Thanks for dropping me off.”
“Well, let me help you bring in your bags.”
“Really, it’s cool.”
As Maksim got out of the car, Kace went to the trunk, taking out both duffel bags as Maksim got his weapons. Kace followed him toward the apartment building. Pain played over Maksim’s face, but he wasn’t saying anything. Kace wasn’t going to leave his side until he was certain he was okay.
When he opened the entrance door, Maksim paused on the threshold. His balance was off, but he was trying to pretend like it wasn’t. That reaffirmed Kace’s resolve to stay by his side for a bit longer. Within the entryway, Kace caught the scent of fresh lemon.
The red brick apartment building was quiet and older. Thunder sounded in the distance as the rain started again on the roof. They headed toward the open stairwell in the middle of the building and walked to the top floor.
Maksim unlocked his door but blocked Kace from coming inside. “I’m good. You don’t…”
“Let’s finish this argument inside.”
Reluctantly, Maksim pushed open the door. Kace looked around at the small studio apartment with simple, modern furnishings and a bit crampe
d. A big screen TV was mounted on the wall in front of the couch.
Kace’s eyes were focused on Maksim as he moved into the living room without turning on the lights. He sat down on a couch, pulling off his work boots. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room.
“You can put those down there.”
Kace set down the bags on the living room floor. He went over to the lamp, turning it on. “You got a medical kit?”
“In the bathroom down the hall.”
Kace walked down the short hallway. He found the only bathroom just outside the master bedroom. He flipped on the light, seeing the black and gray tile. The long counter had one big sink.
He got down on his haunches, opening the cabinet. Kace fucking froze when he saw a basket of dildos under the sink. He reached for it, tilting it up to see all different sizes—even one that was glass.
There were some with suction cups on the bottom that were made to use in the shower. Next to them, there were several different bottles of lube—and there was a lot of lube. Most guys didn’t have sex toys unless they had a girlfriend. There was nothing on the counter that indicated a woman lived in the house with him.
He pushed the basket aside, reaching for the medical bag in the back. As he was standing up, Maksim was watching him from the doorway. “Found it.”
“You don’t have to stay.”
Kace set down the bag on the counter, unzipping it. “I want to.”
As Maksim stepped into the bathroom. “I don’t need a daddy to take care of me.”
His hands froze as he was pulling out the alcohol swabs. Had he heard Maksim right? A thrill of pleasure zipped through Kace’s body before he could stop it from happening. He loved the sound of daddy spilling off Detective Strong’s lips more than he wanted to admit.
