Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
The weather was causing everyone to drive slowly on the highway, but we weren’t in any rush. We’d get to Mclean soon enough, where Macklin was looking forward to showing me around.
I hadn’t seen the estate since last summer, not counting photos from after the fire that’d rocked the entire community a couple months ago. Due to faulty electrics and something about the insulation in a downstairs wall, a fire had spread rapidly throughout the first floor, forcing everyone to come together and rebuild.
Aside from donating money, I hadn’t been involved, something I regretted now.
On the other hand, the fire had solidified my resolve to return home. Mclean House was thriving, and I’d missed being a part of it.
Rule number two: Master and property will aim to keep their weekends free of work, in order to dedicate more time to each other and the community.
Macklin had started making plans right after breakfast. He and the other founding members of Mclean each had an A-frame cabin on the land, lining the backyard, and he wanted to make his cabin ours. He’d told me he’d wanted that back in the day too, but…well, I’d been an idiot. Because while I’d always tried to pull Macklin closer to me, I’d never fought hard to make myself a prominent figure in the community he’d helped build. I’d been content with being just another member, one who happened to host demos and make toys here and there. Granted, I’d made plenty of friends I still held near and dear, but that wasn’t what Macklin needed from me. He wanted me next to him, with similar responsibilities as the other founders.
I was going to be that man now.
River and Lucian had already added me to all the group chats I needed to be in—so that I could be involved in planning major events and keeping track of the calendar. An active community like ours always had something going on. We had our monthly Game, bondage nights, regular parties, demos, themed play parties, guest rooms that required a booking system, a schedule for dungeon monitors, barbecue nights, pool parties—when the weather allowed it—and much, much more.
It took manpower and passion to keep a place like Mclean House running. The house was a grand, three-story Victorian on an impressive chunk of land, that deserved all the attention it could get. This year, for instance, it was time to repaint the whole house. The fire had pushed the work from “maybe this year” to “definitely this year, as soon as the weather permits it.”
The difference now was, I wouldn’t merely pay for the scaffolding service. I’d be up there myself, giving the house a fresh coat of black paint with the other members who’d already put their names on the list. That was how you really joined a community, by going all in and doing the work.
“Do you think Ash will be there tonight?” I asked. He was one of the few I hadn’t reconnected with. I’d looked for him in our online community, but he must’ve changed his username.
We had primal play in common, but most of all, we’d befriended each other over our mutual interest in leathercraft. He made fantastic floggers. He also happened to own the scaffolding business I’d hired for the repaint several years ago. We’d laughed when we’d realized we were part of the same community.
“Um…” Macklin side-eyed me. “Ash left the community last winter when he and Nathan got divorced.”
Oh hell. Oh no, that was… Fuck. How had I missed that? Oh, but they’d been so good together. Sure, they’d had to struggle a bit because both men were Tops, but they’d usually had a string of cute subs between them.
I frowned and switched lanes, as our exit was coming up. “I’m sad to hear that.”
It had to be rough for them, seeing as they had children together too.
I made a mental note to call Ash after the weekend. I had his number.
Rule number three: On workdays, Master and property will aim to eat lunch together.
Maybe Ash and I could meet up for happy hour sometime.
It was my phone that rang next, and I connected a call from Reese to Bluetooth.
“Miss me that much? We’re at the house in ten,” I said.
“Always, sweet cheeks,” he chuckled. “Actually, we’re gonna be late. We just dropped Shay’s brothers off at their aunt’s place in town, so I’m wondering if you can keep our buddies Darius and Gray from Seattle company until we get there.”
“Uh, sure, no problem,” I replied. “What do they look like?”
“They’re the vanilla folks who stick out like a sore thumb,” Reese laughed. “Picture a twentysomething-year-old with wide eyes, and a fortysomething-year-old lookin’ like he wants to get the fuck outta there. You’ll probably find them in the lobby.”
I lifted my brows and exchanged a chuckle with Macklin.