Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 106065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
She smiled back. “You too, sugar.”
I loved when she called me that. Kelly, her sister, was snarkier. She was about my age, and since I stopped by so often, we’d developed an almost brother-sister-like banter. Tina was maybe ten years older and a natural-born mama. Watching her fuss over her own dad was so funny, ’cause he got cranky and grumpy like old men did.
I left the slice of heaven with a smile on my face and began my trek home. On the way, I texted Marcus with an update, confirming that I was attending the event tonight and promising that I kept his advice at the forefront of my mind. I was not going to be clingy or take up too much space.
I even decided to write a Facebook post about it. I wanted him to see I took him seriously—and that I listened to what he said. But I was confident I could find a balance between not being in the way and spending extra time with my friends before I moved to the coldest hell on earth.
Iffy was the best word to describe what I felt when I drove toward Mclean that evening.
It’d been a late afternoon of conflicting emotions and more confusion.
Daddy had liked my Facebook update a few minutes after I’d posted, which had made me feel so good. And I’d read and reread the post so many times that I knew it by heart now.
Sometimes it’s extra important to reflect on what others tell you, and we’re never too old to improve. I’m going to dial things down and try not to take up so much space. Because when I talk, I can’t listen.
His little heart reaction under the post meant the world to me. I was doing something right, finally.
But then Shay had sent me a private message, saying he didn’t understand my post. So I’d explained it, vaguely, and shifted the focus to Denver. That it was important I tended to my Daddy’s needs, and Marcus wanted me in Denver. So, like, if I always focused on myself, I wouldn’t be able to see what my partner needed from me.
Shay’s response had been…blunt.
Listen, if you don’t wanna move to Denver, you fucking shouldn’t. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I gotta be honest. You have needs too, Corey.
He was right about one thing. Shay and I hadn’t known each other long, just a couple months. I’d been in Denmark when he’d shacked up with our community’s Founders and sadistic twin brothers, River and Reese Tenley. That didn’t mean I couldn’t hear Shay out; I actually liked him very much. He was brazen and fun and bratty and nice. A tatted-up masochist who played hard. But what did he know about my relationship with Marcus?
Maybe something…considering Cam had been the next to message me in private. I’d known him a lot longer, and he had similar concerns about my post. That I was giving up too much. He even went so far as to say that whoever had made me feel like I was in the way was a “complete tool.”
So…a lot of confusion here.
The sun was about to set when I rolled through the nearest drive-thru outside of Mclean to get some dinner.
The girl in the window did a double take at my bright-green Mini Cooper, and I appreciated the attention my Froggy got. He deserved it. Then I received my soda, my four servings of carrot sticks, and my cheeseburger before I continued toward the house.
I knew a lot of people would be there today. I’d scanned the attendance list online and had seen the buzz in the comment threads. Master Greer was demonstrating figging on his new slave, Archie, and some were trying to get Nathan, one of our rope riggers, to showcase bondage for smaller body parts, like fingers, toes, balls, cocks, pussies, and nipples.
To be honest, I was a little nervous about seeing Greer. He’d been treated unfairly in my mess of a life. What was supposed to have been a simple arrangement of me receiving pain from him had become a clusterfuck of mistakes and, evidently, lies.
It’d started so perfectly. Marcus had given me permission to ask Greer. Greer had accepted. Our first session, he’d made me cry so fucking hard, and I’d fallen head over heels for his ways. His manners, the way he spoke and commanded the room, his affection, and how he administered pain. The rawest of hurt, the best emotional release, and then he’d held me tightly afterward.
Everything had unraveled from there. I’d been the idiot who hadn’t considered the fact that Greer needed aftercare as much as I did, and I’d been so focused on Marcus’s demand that I go home straight after the session. I wasn’t allowed to linger, and he wanted to handle my aftercare himself. So Greer had asked me to stop by one day to “talk.” And he’d mentioned that the aftercare was very important, not just for him to make sure I was all right, but for him to mend too.