Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Jack hummed.
I glanced at him before I made a turn. “What about you? Seeing as you know…very much about me, care to share about your own preferences?”
He smirked faintly. “That’s actually my ultimate relationship right there. Having someone who belongs to me, and then we can have fun with others together.”
Oh. I see.
“Your friends seem to be more into structured arrangements, right?” he went on. “I guess that would be the difference for me. I’m an exhibitionist, a big-time voyeur, a sadomasochist, a Dom, and a hedonist. I love spontaneous encounters with strangers—like today.”
I blew out a breath, feeling the heat rising again. I had to clear my throat. “Is it, uh…possible…to have such a lifestyle and still be safe?”
“Of course,” he replied. “For one, I never do oral with randoms. For two, I always fuck with protection—unless I’m committed to a man, that is. God knows I wanna fuck you raw. But I’ll leave that to you.”
Christ.
I gripped the wheel tighter.
Could I…? I definitely wanted to. It was the one thing missing from my dynamic with Kingsley and Tate, but I understood the limit. They protected themselves with others so they didn’t have to when it was only them.
“I can’t believe we’re talking about this,” I confessed. “It’s surreal.”
“You’re telling me?” he laughed. “I’ve been fantasizing about you since I was sixteen, Franklin.”
Well, that made me smile and feel ridiculously warm and flattered.
It made me a little bolder. “I want to worship every inch of your body.”
He whispered a curse and bit at a cuticle, which was uncharacteristic of him. One of those infuriating things about him—he had no nervous tics or bad habits.
“I keep thinking about your fetish list,” he said. “Fuck me, the things I wanna do to you.” He was antsy. Wasn’t he? That was what the biting was about. He hungered just like I did. Oh, the possibilities. “We should go out soon. See what damage we can cause at a bar or a kink event.”
Macklin’s restaurant came to mind. Now while the house was being restored in Mclean, they hosted mild kink evenings at his restaurant in Logan Circle. They’d redone the rooftop terrace to accommodate Mclean House members, even with the colder weather.
“May I ask how long you’ve been involved in the lifestyle?” I asked.
He weighed his answer and peered out the window. The waffle place was just up ahead, at the end of the street. “On and off for the past ten years.”
That…was impressive.
“You had an early start.”
He chuckled. “I know Macklin.”
And I had heard rumors of his escapades.
“How do you know him, exactly?”
“We went to the same school,” he answered. “I’m two years older than him, but he was the boy wonder who tutored me in English.”
I did remember he’d struggled in that subject. Jack was a numbers guy.
I found a parking space not too far away from where we’d get breakfast, and once I’d pulled in and turned off the engine, I had to sit back and look at him for a second.
Yesterday, I’d thought I was facing the worst week I’d had in a long time.
“What?” He smiled.
I shook my head and smiled back. “Just…wrapping my head around all this.”
“I know the feeling, Daddy.” He leaned over and kissed me swiftly—too swiftly—before he jumped out of the SUV. “Let’s go.”
Let’s.
“My God.”
“I know. I told you.” I chewed around a mouthful of waffle and scooped more toppings onto my next bite. This was why I’d insisted on ordering the toppings on the side, so we could bring the food home with us and reheat the waffles in the oven before we ate.
Several containers shared the space on the kitchen island, from the waffle place’s special whipped cream with fresh strawberry slices mixed into it, chocolate whip with dark chocolate shavings, and blueberry compote, to simpler toppings like whipped maple butter, vanilla glaze, and powdered sugar.
We ate in comfortable silence with the TV providing background noise in the living room. He’d wanted to have the news on. But for the most part, he seemed distracted by taking in my place.
I caught him looking at the fridge a lot—or rather, Lily’s drawings there.
“What’s the verdict?” I asked after a while.
I grabbed another waffle and spread the strawberry whip on top.
“I wasn’t sure what to expect, but yeah, this is more you,” he replied. “I like the colors—the burgundy, the dark green, and blue. And I assume you hired a decorator.”
“Absolutely,” I chuckled. “I requested comfort, and the lady made me pick out a few colors I liked.”
I’d gone with the darker shades partly because I had good natural light in here thanks to the tall, arched windows.
“I bet Lily loves it too,” he said.
“She does. She says it’s very Daddy.” I smiled and bit into the waffle. “And she believes a pink Christmas tree will look great in front of the bookcases in the living room.”