5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
O llie would just go in and get a coffee.
A week had passed since his night with Fin, and he hadn’t been able to get them off his mind.
Not because they were a hottie with a killer Ducati and whiplash grin, but because of the sort of rough play they’d done together, how in that single night, Ollie had felt possessed, valued, seen in a way he craved—fuck.
He needed more.
And they’d told him where to find them.
The breeze filtered through, all exhaust and promise, and he drank it in. The past week, he’d been trapped in a cycle of work and home, desperate for human contact, and yet now that the time had come to go to the munch, he was terrified.
This wasn’t the familiarity of Tabletop Tavern, where everyone knew him thanks to Julian. No, here, he’d be establishing himself on his own. And he didn’t know yet if that was good or bad.
The sign for Whipped stood out at the end of the block, the black script and a whip, and rainbow flags hung ostentatiously out front.
The cafe made it brazenly clear what they were about, which reminded him a little of Fin’s attitude.
If only he could approach the world that way.
For years, he’d crammed himself into boxes, trying to fit in.
And not a single time had he found the right group for him.
In the family, he was the youngest, the kid who always got in trouble.
On the football team, he’d had to bite his tongue over and over until he exploded because the toxic assholes there brought out the worst in him.
At work, he kept to himself and focused on the cars, even though his coworkers weren’t bad.
And Julian’s friends still viewed him as the little brother.
He walked up the steps, his shoulders locking up tight. The itch rose, the one he needed to manage, but he wrestled it down. If the vibe in Whipped was garbage, he’d grab a coffee, head out, and nurse his disappointment by catching the Packers game at a bar.
The moment he stepped in, the aroma of coffee and vanilla wafted his way.
While Fin had mentioned a gathering, Ollie wasn’t prepared for the amount of people crammed into this coffee shop.
The tables along the back were filled with groups of folks chatting.
The crowd here clearly all knew one another based on their casual touches and laughter, and he didn’t have the first clue as to where to break in.
His stomach sank. Guess he’d snag a coffee and then hit the football game later.
He walked up to the counter, where a cutie in a pink crop top who had gorgeous curls flashed a grin at him .
“Here for a drink or the munch?” the guy asked, his hazel eyes sparking with curiosity.
That was the question, wasn’t it. His palms broke into a sweat. He didn’t see Fin, and he didn’t know anyone here. And honestly, today he wasn’t bold enough to cold-introduce himself to strangers.
“I’ll just get a latte,” he said. So much for something new.
The guy arched his brow, but he turned to the espresso machine and got to work.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Oliver Hale.”
The familiar voice sent a shiver through him and the urge to drop to his knees.
He slowly turned around.
Fin stood behind him, a hand on their hip and a fierce grin on their face.
Relief slammed him in the chest. Fin’s purple hair had been tamed from the wild tangle it had been after their tumble together, and their defined nose and sharp chin amplified their attractiveness.
They wore a purple muscle tee that showed off their biceps and green cargo pants that clung to their muscular thighs, and fuck, they were so damn hot.
“You said this place had good coffee,” he said, his voice coming out a tease unintentionally.
“Mmm, so you happened to come at the exact timeframe we run our munch. Tracks,” they said, their hazel eyes glittering with amusement.
The thread pulled taut inside him relaxed.
“Here’s your coffee.” The guy at the counter passed him a mug rather than a to-go cup. The smirk on his lips told him the guy clearly had his number.
“Micah, this is Ollie.” Fin made the introductions. “ Micah’s my underling.”
Micah rolled his eyes. “You mean your coworker?”
“I am your boss, you know.” Fin leaned against the side of the counter. “Where’s the respect?”
“Earn it,” Micah said, his eyes flashing.
“Mmm, you’re asking for it, brat.”
That tone sent a sinful shudder through Ollie, even though it wasn’t aimed at him. Fuck, he wanted it to be, though.
“So, how do you know our Finley here?” Micah asked, a hand on his hip.
“Two guesses,” a deep, booming voice said from behind him. A guy about the same size as him stepped up to the counter. “No offense.”
Amusement bubbled up inside Ollie. “You’re not wrong.”
“Except he’s…well, I was going to say vanilla, but if you showed up here, I’m guessing kink-curious?” Fin asked.
“One of us, one of us,” Micah chanted, and Ollie didn’t hold back his grin. His nerves were starting to transmute into excitement.
The big guy placed a hand on Micah’s head. “Enough, babe. Don’t scare him away.”
“I mean, if he’s met Fin, that’s the biggest scare-off factor around,” Micah said.
Fin snorted. “Don’t be jealous because my brat game is stronger.” They slipped their hand into Ollie’s, and the shock of the warmth traveled right through him. “Come on, let’s get you over to a table.”
The unrest that had been roiling through him when he’d seen the wall of people vanished. Fin had this effortless way of rolling in and claiming their space, and with them by his side, he felt invincible.
“The big guy is Parker.” Fin guided him over to a table with an empty seat. Were they going to drop him there and ditch him? “He’s one of my best damn friends. Micah is his partner.” Fin didn’t explain the sub or Dom relationship, but the dynamics were pretty clear in the way they’d interacted.
When he’d been with Fin, he’d absolutely been the sub. The mere memory caused his cheeks to heat. He’d never been in that sort of role or interplay before, and fuck, he liked it more than words could express.
He wanted to beg. To be on his knees. To have them towering over him, making him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t realized he craved. Ollie licked his lips as they approached a table full of people.
“This is Ollie,” Fin announced and jabbed at the open seat. “Sit here.”
He complied on automatic, even though if he was sitting, where would they go? The idea of Fin walking away caused a spark of nerves, and not just because he didn’t know anyone at the table. Being in Fin’s sphere, having that intense attention on him, brought him to life in a way he’d been missing.
Fin placed their hand on the back of his chair and leaned next to him. This close, he caught a whiff of their scent, a sharp, woodsy one. “So, this is Pixie and her girlfriend, Eva.” They pointed to the two women across from him. “And Nolan works here in marketing.”
The guy sitting next to him waved. He was lanky with green hair tugged into a bun, and the whole punk vibe with his flannel and spiked collar looked damn good on him. Truthfully, seeing this many gorgeous people in one place was distracting as hell, and yet Fin commanded his attention wholly.
“You make me sound so boring,” Nolan said, then fixed his gaze on Ollie. “So, you’re hot as fuck. New to the scene? Want some breaking in?” He waggled his brows.
Fin’s hand shifted behind Ollie as they clutched the chair a little tighter. Interesting. His heart thrummed harder. Not like they’d get possessive over him. He was always the leftover one, glossed over in a group. And they had the whole scene at their picking.
“And what does breaking in entail?” Ollie flirted, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Pretty sure I already handled that intro,” Fin said, their lips brushing against his ear and their voice husky. A shiver ran down his spine.
“Oh, so you know know him,” Nolan teased.
Guess he wasn’t hiding anything from this bunch. Not like he wanted to. The way they talked about sex and kink openly was refreshing. So different from the song and dance he’d grown used to in regular society.
“What sorts of things are you interested in exploring?” Pixie asked.
She was curvy and short, gorgeous with short blue waves, tattoos along her arms, which her flowy sleeveless dress put on display.
Eva formed a contrast of equally stunning opposites, her auburn hair pulled into a tight bun, crimson lipstick pin-perfect, and not a stain on her cream blouse.
His mouth dried at the question. He’d done some research, but the truth of it all was…Fin. He wanted to explore more with them so badly it hurt, but he didn’t know if they’d be willing to give him another go.
“Does basic power exchange sound too lame?” he asked. “I’m not sure I’m into, uh, implements, I guess, or too much pain.”
“Sucks for you, Noles,” Fin jumped in. “Find another target to get your pain on with.”
“There are plenty of options,” Pixie said, her tone sweet. She seemed open in a way not a lot of people were, just earnest, and Eva slipped her arm around her shoulders, making their relationship clear. “Whether you’re more of a sensation slut like Sloan—”
“I heard that!” A blond guy called over from one of the tables, but he didn’t get up to come over .
“—or if you’re into pain like Nolan or have a major breeding kink like Fin here, there are lots of options.”
Ollie blinked. He’d heard the term before, but that couldn’t mean…. “Dare I ask?”
“It means even if I can’t get that sweet ass pregnant, I’ll keep on trying regardless.” Fin squeezed his shoulder, their firm grip sending a flutter through him.
Holy fuck. Heat rushed through him at the thought of Fin fucking into him over and over again. He swallowed hard.
“My favorites are pain and humiliation,” Pixie said, “even though I’m proficient in a lot of the others. I work some of the classes at Whipped.”
Ollie blinked. “Just how many people are employees here?”
“We’re a café, but the basement is a working dungeon,” Nolan said. “So we run classes and hold events there, and Meg’s a pro Domme, so she also sees clients there.”
When Fin had said kink café, he figured maybe the themeing, but they hadn’t been kidding. This was the real deal. His heart thumped hard in excitement.
“We also have Play Nights in the dungeon,” Fin purred in his ear. “Mostly no-holds-barred fuckfests.”
Fucking hell, he was going to immolate.
“Yeah, but that’s just for staff,” Nolan said.
“And their partners,” Eva clarified, her voice low and melodic.
“Sounds amazing,” Ollie said. “Does Whipped only hire fucking gorgeous people, or…?”
Nolan’s grin widened. “Well, damn, we have ourselves a smooth talker.”
He’d been terrified when he first approached, but these folks were setting him at ease. He was younger than them for sure, but none of them treated him like a kid or babied him because he was new. They didn’t hold themselves back around him or try to skim over anything, and he adored that.
Fin’s hand rested on his shoulder, and he didn’t want them to pull back.
Feeling the heat of their palm, the weight of it there settled his mind better than anything.
Fuck, he’d never been this smitten with a person, especially one he barely knew.
But they stirred up so many new sensations and emotions in him, ones he’d waited a whole lifetime for.
“Oh, Fin, I’ve got your photography socials set up,” Nolan said, his expression changing from charming to business mode. “If you have any other questions, just ask.”
“Photography?” Ollie asked. The night they hooked up, they’d talked for a while, but Ollie wanted to learn so much more about them.
“Uh, yeah,” Fin said, their voice coming out gruff. He glanced back to see them duck their head, their cheeks reddened. “I do kink photography.”
“And they’re incredibly fucking talented,” Pixie said, her voice firm. Even though she brimmed sweetness, she could clearly hold her own. Ollie filed that away in his back pocket. All his perceptions of subs and Doms were getting smashed to smithereens in the best way.
“Have you found a model for the next shoot you’re planning?” Nolan asked.
Fin’s hand on Ollie’s shoulder tensed.
“What sort of model are you looking for?” Eva asked. “I can check around.”
“Uh, preferably a big body. I need some variety in my subs. Not sure what theme I’m going to shoot around, but I’ve got a great location in mind,” they said .
Ollie licked his lips. The idea had burst into his mind and spilled from his lips. “I could do it.”
Fin’s grip on him tightened.
“You’d look hot tied up,” Nolan said.
The compliment sent a flush of heat through him. Ollie’s shoulders tensed as he waited for the answer, whether Fin would take him up on the offer or not.
He hoped they would.
He was terrified they’d turn him down.
“You’d look sexy as hell tied up,” Fin agreed. “If you modeled for me, we would need to have a lot of discussions, since you’re new to the scene. Most likely some practice sub sessions too.”
“Is this your attempt to scare me away?” Ollie asked. “Because it’s getting me hotter.”
Pixie smirked. “You found yourself a firecracker, Fin.”
“I’m not sad.” They ran their fingertips along his shoulders. The light touch sent a sinful thrill through him, waking his cock up. “Guess we better exchange numbers.”
Ollie schooled his features, even though internally, he exploded with fireworks. The connection between them wasn’t something he wanted to let go of. He had never modeled and didn’t think he was the type—too bulky, too rugged—but if Fin wanted to boss him around some more, he’d sign the fuck up.
“Just a warning, I’m a demanding Dom,” Fin said, their voice husky and low.
Ollie’s heart thundered. “Can’t fucking wait.”