Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Oh. It’s like a collar. But sexier.” I turned this way and that, admiring myself. “I look…”
“Hot as hell.”
“Taken. I was gonna say I look taken.” Owned. And anyone in a five-mile radius who saw how Malik was looking at me would know by whom.
“That would be the general idea.” He gave me a wolfish grin as he skimmed his hands down my torso, following the lines of the corset. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
“What are you gonna do when I’m old and wrinkled?” I teased, but sometimes I did worry about life beyond gym dates and pretty panties. What would Malik do when the newness of our shared kinks wore off?
“Love you.” His voice was firm as he hugged me tight from behind. “Go ahead. Get old. I’m still going to buy you sexy presents. Get matching rocking chairs. Get us a pair of little yappy dogs. Keep you forever.”
“I love you too.” I sank against him, drinking in all his warmth and strength for several long moments before I reached for my phone again. “Now for the picture.” Malik moved to step away, but I hauled him right back. “No, no, you too. I want a selfie of both of us. Baby’s first kink club trip.”
And then we both grinned at my phone. I forgot to worry about dumb things like growing old, and I beamed at our reflections, all our contrasts: my wild curls and his closely cropped black hair, my corset and smooth chest, his fuzzy glory on full display in the mesh, and matching, totally-in-love smiles.
“Damn, we look good.” Malik whistled after the camera clicked. “Send me a copy?”
“Of course.” I sent the pic to Malik and Andre before pocketing my phone. “Are we ready?”
“Nervous?” Malik helped me with my heavy wool coat because it was January in DC, after all, and I didn’t want my nipples to freeze off.
“A little,” I admitted because he knew me too well now for me to lie. “Meeting your friends more than the kink-friendly bar and club. What if they don’t think I’m good enough for you?”
Crack. He gave me a quick swat on the ass. “I was going to save the spanking for after our adventure, but you keep talking…”
“I’m serious.” Pouting, I rubbed my ass.
“And so am I. You’re it for me, Avery.” He cupped my face in both hands. “And everyone around me knows it. I brag about my boyfriend, the costume designer—”
“Wardrobe assistant.”
“Technicality and not too much longer.” He waved his hand, sounding for a moment exactly like his mother in an endearing way. “And I brag about your kind heart and your helpful spirit and all the things you’ve made for the new place.”
“Well, there is that. I’m useful.” We’d moved into a little Culver City condo: two bedrooms, a balcony, and a large living area perfect for all my sewing experiments from the summer and fall. I’d done throw pillows aplenty, potholders, table runners, and in a fit of inspiration, upholstered a headboard for our new king bed. “My social media looks like an influencer took over. Like, who even is Avery Haskins these days…”
“The guy I love?” Malik kissed my neck before carefully sticking a hat on my head.
“I love him too.” I gave myself one last glance in the wall mirror. “I love this me. So much.”
“And you’re enough, baby. Exactly as you are. Don’t you dare listen to my mother about degrees or your mother about behavior. You, Avery Haskins, are worthy of every damn thing.”
Hand on my chest, I pretended to swoon just so he’d have to catch me and steer me more to the door. “Darn. All that time your mom spent helping me with my essays. Guess I better yank my applications…”
“You did it?” Malik whirled around at the door. Surprising him was so much fun. “You sent them in?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna do it.” The summer sewing classes had led to a fall spent debating LA-area fashion programs and whether I really wanted to take that leap. “Your boyfriend, the costume designer.”
“Lobby. Now.” Opening the door, he pointed at the hall. “Or I’m gonna end up fucking you senseless and skipping the club.”
“Club. I’ve been waiting too long to miss this.” I waited twenty-five years to find the real Avery Haskins, and as much I loved everything we did in bed, I was more than ready to show the world.
The last year had been one long coming-out journey, and tonight felt like a celebration. Another two weeks until Valentine’s, when it would officially be a year. Malik didn’t know, but I already had reservations for our favorite table at our special place. And a really special question to ask him, but I couldn’t dwell on that then without getting nervous for a completely different reason.
Instead, I focused on cuddling in the car on the way to the club. If the rideshare driver had any opinions on that, he sure didn’t show it, giving us a huge grin as he dropped us off at the nondescript black building in a warehouse-type district of lofts and industrial buildings. The lobby was industrial-chic with exposed piping and wood and brick accents, and we met up with Malik’s friends near the coat-check station.