Chapter 20
DEVON
I hummed to myself as I cooked scrambled eggs, fried bacon, toasted toast, and sliced tomatoes.
Jack must be so fucking tired. He’d yawned continuously through the movie, but had resisted any urging from me to go to bed.
I could’ve ordered him, but as he lay curled against me under a blanket and we watched a fantasy movie he swore he was interested in, I’d let him carry on the charade that he was just stretching my jaw. Had to say—that was an original line.
After the movie ended, we brushed our teeth and slid under the sheets. Naked, of course. His eyes drifted shut, even as he tried to fight the fatigue. As he admitted he hadn’t been sleeping well since Buffalo, I ran my fingers through his hair, using just the right amount of fingernail to soothe.
He was asleep within thirty seconds. In that sleep, I was able to coax him onto his side so I could spoon him.
When I awoke this morning to rain lashing against the window, he’d continued to snore lightly. I’d extricated myself, showered, dressed, and headed to the kitchen.
Still, he slept on. I’ll go in and wake him shortly. I don’t want his sleep cycle to be off so he can’t sleep tonight. I considered. Well, I am going to put him through his paces. He might need a nap…
“I should be doing that.” Jack barreled into the kitchen, pulling on one of the bathrobes provided. “I’m so sorry—” He desisted when I held up the spatula.
“Relax.” I gestured to a stool at the kitchen island. “I don’t require you to serve me. Yes, I’m in charge. I also find cooking relaxing—when I have time. You need to eat and conserve your strength.” I eyed him. “Have you pissed?”
He shook his head.
I rolled my eyes. “Piss, we eat, you shower, and you put a plug in your ass.”
His eyes widened.
“The vibrating one, of course. Go fast, breakfast’s ready.”
I didn’t time his piss, but it must’ve been one of the quickest in history. He was back at the kitchen table by the time I put a plate before him. “Thank you, Sir. You’re very kind.”
“You’re most welcome. I’m happy to cook breakfast while we’re here. You can prepare lunch and dinner. Something light—for lunch at least. I plan to work you hard.”
He grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.” Then he sobered. “Am I allowed to smile?”
I eyed him. “Who told you that you couldn’t smile?”
“Well, you know, BDSM is serious, and—”
“Bullshit.” I toyed with a piece of crispy bacon—just the way I liked it. Another reason I loved to cook breakfast. So I could have my bacon my way.
His jaw slackened.
I sighed. “Sure, there are times when it’s absolutely serious.
Times when I need your full attention because I’m doing something risky.
Always within the boundaries of what you can handle and what I’ve been trained to do.
I’m not trying anything new on you and would seek guidance before adding to my repertoire.
There’s a BDSM club in Vancouver as well as several well-known Doms I vetted. So if I want—”
“You vetted other Doms?” His brow knit.
“Of course. If I’m going to connect with someone from whom I might want to learn a new skill, I’m going to ask around.
Other Dominants or even submissives they’ve played with.
It’s a tight community. If someone has a bad reputation, that word gets around—even to outsiders.
I’ve got the name of a guy who isn’t careful and has hurt some bottoms. More-experienced members of the community try to warn newcomers, but they can’t always catch them before they hook up with this guy.
” I bit off a bit of bacon as I contemplated my next words.
“I want you to promise me that you’ll always come to me so I can properly vet anyone you’re going to play with.
“I know you’re a strong guy, but—as you’ve seen—you can get hurt.
Physically and emotionally. I’m willing to be your protector.
To vet anyone you might want to play with.
Or to have a relationship with. Promise me this.
” I ate the rest of the slice, savoring the flavor.
I’d saved the maple bacon for the end of the week. A parting treat.
That thought made me queasy and hurt my heart.
“I only want you.” Jack toyed with his eggs with his fork. “I mean, it’s nice that you’re offering. But I only want you.”
“Jack—”
“No.” His gaze shot to mine. “I tried. I met a Dominant down in Washington State.”
Oh Jesus Christ. He did that, and I didn’t know. I didn’t keep him safe. Fucking hell, it’s my job to take care of him. To—
“He was really nice.”
I tuned back into Jack’s words, forcing my panic to recede.
“But we weren’t…a good fit.”
“How so?” Stay calm. Keep your voice level…let him come to you.
He sighed. “Sanjay was a great guy. Attractive, smart, funny…” He blinked. “You said BDSM can be fun?”
“Plenty of shits and giggles to be had. Especially when you’re trying to evade my dragon’s tongue.”
“I think I don’t want to know.” He grinned.
I wasn’t going to be derailed. “The guy. In Washington State.”
Slowly, Jack nodded. “We met and after a long conversation, he…told me I had unfinished business with you. He said I needed to understand why I only wanted to submit to you. To be dominated by you. That if I could figure that out, then I might be ready for a new Dominant in the future.”
But I don’t want you to have another Dominant. I want to be your one and only.
Tires screeched in my head.
What the fuck are you thinking? You’ve got years left on your career. If you don’t get traded to another team, then we might be coach and player for years. You can’t fucking ask him to wait. Just like you shouldn’t be without someone for that long—it’s not fair to either of you.
I drew in a deep breath. “So we’re here—in this place—to give you time to figure out what it is about me that makes you want to submit and then for us to find a way to hook you up with another Dominant?”
He winced. “When you put it like that, I sound selfish. I could go to Vancouver, right? Abbotsford’s too small. But I can go into Vancouver. Maybe meet someone you trust and—”
“No.” I might’ve said the word too abruptly, because he jerked.
Make this right. I grasped his hand. “I mean…let’s sort through things here before we move on.
And yes, I can vet Dominants for you in Vancouver.
I have connected with several I trust, and if they aren’t looking for new bottoms, then they can probably recommend someone.
I think—” I swallowed. “I think you need someone full-time. I mean not 24/7 or anything like that. You have a life. But you need someone strong to take care of your needs. And I don’t just mean the physical.
You get all up in your head and you lose focus.
I don’t know if that’s stress, your divorce, or some other factor. ”
“But if they’re in Vancouver—assuming I can’t find someone local—”
“Don’t assume. There’s a kinky group who go for dinner in Langley once a month. I can speak to the organizer. If there’s someone local—Abbotsford, Mission City, or Langley—that might be best.”
He cocked his head.
“Discretion is a thing. Outing is verboten. Obviously. Some kinky people are out to their family, friends, and coworkers. Some are firmly in the proverbial closet. You’d never out a gay player or coach?”
His expression of absolute horror—wide eyes, open mouth, huge frown—assured me what I’d already known. Just because he’d been out while playing in the League—and obviously still was—it didn’t mean he’d out anyone else.
“So, again, with proper vetting, you’re good. What I’m saying is closer is better, but you can absolutely do long distance. FaceTime is a thing. They have this thing called the telephone—”
He rolled his eyes.
“Sign of disrespect. Don’t do it again.” I bit into my toast—slathered in peanut butter, of course. One could never get too much protein.
He hung his head. “Apologies, Sir. You’re right.”
“You didn’t know. Or you did, and you weren’t thinking.
I need you to be very deliberate in what you do.
Now, in the moment during a scene is one thing.
While we’re doing other things, I need you to be respectful.
If you disagree, you bring it up. I’m not into the slave/master dynamic.
But you will, as we agreed, obey my orders.
If there’s something unsafe—or a hard limit you discover that I don’t know about—then you’re not just encouraged to speak up.
You’re obliged. Nothing is supposed to happen that you don’t consent to.
You get that, right? Safe, sane, and consensual.
” The BDSM motto. One that encompassed a lot.
But not everything. Still, the phrase was a good start.
“Is this where we talk about safewords?”
I nodded. “I just go with the stoplight colors. If you’re discussing a green salad, I’ll know you’re not telling me to proceed in our scene.
Yellow peppers won’t be a reason for me to slow down and check in with you.
” I pointed to the tomato. “You say red in the context of a scene, everything stops. Immediately. No questions. No recriminations. Nothing but a total halt. Again, if you’re ever in a situation where that doesn’t happen, you get to safety as soon as possible, you walk away from that relationship—no matter how invested you are—and you call me right away.
I don’t care what our circumstances are.
If I’m a thousand miles away or down the street.
You call me.” I hesitated. “Or whoever your safe person is.
“Even if you’re in a full-time relationship—you need to have a safe person.
Can be a Dominant. Someone you trust. Could also be a submissive.
You need to make friends with other submissives.
Online anonymously is fine. You need someone who can be a sounding board.
Who can guide you if things are going off the rails. ”
He sighed. “This sounds super complicated.”