Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Me…? In a kink community?
I drained half my beer.
I hadn’t been involved in kink in ages. Ten years, at the very least.
I hadn’t been involved in anything in ages.
You knew you needed to get back into dating when your daughter tried to set you up with her college professor.
She’d failed. He hadn’t been my type, and I sure as shit hadn’t been his. He’d have to look for his future baby daddy elsewhere. I was done in that department. Forty-one years old, and I had recently celebrated my daughter’s twenty-fourth birthday.
Yeah.
No, I was gonna go the kink route. I’d invited Colt and his two partners down here, and I’d told him to extend the invitation to a handful of his closest. There you go, new buddies. We’d see about dating. Possibly in the future. For now, I was content with my random bathroom hookups about once a year.
Porn gave me a lot more, to be honest. Fetish porn. Videos of delightful little freaks who were down to get proper filthy.
Last hookup I’d had told me he was kinky. Because he liked being spanked and tied up.
I wasn’t gonna fucking judge, but I didn’t have the energy for that nonsense. I’d tried, goddammit. But I’d left kink for a reason. That pool was too watered down. Some guy would say he was into primal play because he liked it when Daddy chased him up the stairs…?
To each their own, but it wasn’t for me.
I could find them adorable as fuck, and Kit obviously came to mind. He was a masochist in the making as Colt and Luke’s Little Boy, and I’d been around him enough to find him sweeter than sugar and admittedly funny as hell. But they were into the structure and lifestyle of BDSM. I’d never been. I was straight-up primal and hedonistic, so I’d always struggled to find a good partner.
I blew out a breath and finished my beer. Either way, I’d hopefully make new friends in this community. I’d been to a couple of their meetups in the city so far, and it seemed like a good crowd. And I knew Colt. I knew him well. If he, as the Sadist he was, recommended Mclean House, I trusted him. Besides, even if I didn’t meet a good partner to build something with there, casual playtime was still a major improvement over what I had now.
“You ready to get out, Terra?” I asked.
Girl could jump in just fine. Getting out was another matter.
I squatted down on the boardwalk again and extended a hand to her.
She huffed and barked, having the time of her life, but eventually swam closer to me.
I grinned and lifted her up. “There we go. You reckon it’s time we let Marina know we’re home?”
Turned out we didn’t need to. Marina stormed out of the house a second later.
“You’re already here!”
She looked flushed from all her cleaning. The yellow rubber gloves completed the picture.
“Hello, offspring.” I smiled faintly and waited till Terra had shaken off half the ocean. “You got something you wanna ask me?”
Marina deflated in resignation. “What tipped you off? And why aren’t you at Nana’s? You usually stay there for dinner and complain about your flight.”
“She had plans,” I replied with a shrug. I could complain about the old man I’d been seated next to on the flight to Marina instead. Christ, he hadn’t stopped talking for a second. “So I just grabbed the truck and headed down here…to find you turnin’ our house into a showroom for Realtors.”
My heavy-duty truck had no place in DC and was always at Ma’s up in Naples—and yeah, usually with dinner, so I was a little disgruntled at having been pushed out the door.
Marina fucking blushed. The sirens went off again. My daughter did not blush. She was almost as shameless as I was. She’d inherited that and a few other things from me, like those blue peepers that worked better than mine ever had when I wanted something, her love for the Everglades wildlife, definitely her stubbornness, little bit of her attitude too—I was man enough to admit that—and her dark hair. The rest was her beautiful mama, rest her soul.
She wrung her hands awkwardly, then decided to just spit it out. “I sort of met someone a while back.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I bitched. “Of all the things you could tell me. Christ. Why can’t you just die alone like your old man?”
That earned me a sigh and an impressive eye roll, and I fucking left her. I closed the gate and walked past her, into the house, and aimed for the kitchen. She didn’t wanna have this fight with me when I hadn’t eaten since my Five Guys burger at the airport.
Goddammit!
“I thought you wanted grandchildren!” she hollered after me.
“There will be sperm banks in ten years too—when I’m ready!” I yelled back.