Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
I eyed her, unable to contain my skepticism, and accepted the letter.
“I’m gonna go.” She was tearing up, so I figured she wanted a quick escape. She turned around and headed straight for her car, leaving me behind to stare at a folded-up letter. It had no envelope or anything, and I was the moron who just couldn’t help myself.
I flipped the letter open and blinked.
I miss you, honey. We can fix this.
“Christ,” I muttered. This wasn’t a letter. It was a fucking note—and she better not be holding her breath.
I pocketed the slip of paper, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed inside the main house to see if I could find any chewing gum in the kitchen. That was the extent of my deceit, a morning cigarette before I took my medication.
“Lucian?” It was River again.
I changed direction in the lobby and peered into the club area. River was standing by the patio doors, and he gestured his mug at something outside.
“I spy two brats schemin’, and one’s yours,” he said.
Oh, really.
Noa was awake, in other words.
I walked across the dance floor and came up next to River, and there they were. Noa and Corey were talking on the porch of Greer’s cabin. It was the one farthest down, closest to the forest, and I found it interesting that Noa was fully dressed. Was he going somewhere? Our breakfast plans were supposed to revolve around turkey bacon, eggs, and cartoons. The latter was a follow-up to Noa’s aftercare to make sure he was in his usual high spirits.
“You reckon it’s about the prank?” River asked.
I wouldn’t know. Those two weren’t our problem, regardless. It was Macklin. “Whatever idea the Littles have will go through Macklin’s rhyme and reason. He’s clearly in charge of whatever they’re planning.”
“Mm.” River nodded once. “Mack knows us too well.”
I was inclined to agree. Last night’s group play had undoubtedly made a few brats hopeful for more playtime between a squad of Sadists, but…as most of us knew, as Macklin knew, no Top would go further than they had yesterday. And no amount of playful flirting and kissing would trick Macklin into believing otherwise.
“If we were to categorize the brats according to their Top fantasies, how would you split them up?” I wondered. “Noa obviously wants to see all the Top-play he can get his hands on, but Kit, for instance—he’s a bit more reserved, isn’t he?”
River hummed and folded his arms over his chest. “Honestly? My money’s on Corey bein’ more reserved.”
Really? Huh.
“He’ll go nuts for Greer laying one on a Top any day of the week, but I don’t think he wants to see much more than that,” River went on. “In short, Greer’s foursome and Colt’s triad—they’re part of somethin’ together, and I think they’re satisfied with that.”
That much made sense. I’d obviously heard of their playtime dynamic, and I believed it suited Colt very well. He’d always been on the fence about sharing partners. Or Littles, I should say. He and Lucas had had plenty of fun back in the day—but who hadn’t? We’d been close friends in the quest of starting a community and figuring out who we were in kink. We had…explored.
River cracked a little smirk. “Funnily enough, Corey and Kit are both possessive of Greer and Colt. They wanna see them make out with half the world, but the ones they don’t mind sending into a fuckfest are the other two—Sloan and Luke. As long as Colt and Greer are there to oversee the playin’.”
I did love hearing River’s take on things. He was always observing and picking up details.
I side-eyed him. “And what about you, Reese, and Shay?”
He side-eyed me right back, and the faint smirk was back. “You diggin’?”
I chuckled. “I’m curious, my friend. Remember how we behaved back in the day when we couldn’t find the right subs for our research?”
He cracked a quick grin and turned toward the window again. “Good times. Different times.”
True enough.
He scratched his jaw. “I don’t know. Reese and I have some fantasies concernin’ Shay, that’s for sure. We wanna see him with the edge-play boys sometime.”
I inclined my head. KC had told me about it, and I wouldn’t mind watching that either. Shay, Macklin, Tate—Lane, if I wasn’t mistaken. The tatted-up primal subs going nuts on one another.
“I ain’t gonna lie,” River continued. “I like seein’ Reese fuck around with Greer and Colt. It’s nostalgic.”
I smiled. “And what about you? There’s plenty of nostalgia—”
“I’m good,” he chuckled. “My memories are Shay’s bedtime stories, and we’re happy with that.”
It made me happy to hear. He and I were similar in that regard. We had our memories, and we could look back on them fondly—even share them with our boys now—but they stopped at being story time. I didn’t want to share Cam outside our dynamic, and he didn’t want to share me.