Chapter 20 #2
He nods. “Make sure that you choose them in good time, or everything will be bought. Then you’ll need to turn up as a sexy Toto. Although, I can see you as that.”
I cross my arms. “If Kay can have a Kitten, then my Sir can have a Puppy.”
When Cassian giggles, I’m not sure that was quite the burn I meant it to be.
I suck at chirps.
“Thanks for setting up our first Bay Rebels Sub Group meeting.” Robyn raises her cup to Cassian. “I needed this break. This week has been intense.”
“I like intense.” Garcia’s dark eyes fix on Robyn.
I can’t tell if he’s talking about impact play or his shady undercover work.
Robyn opens and shuts her mouth like she’s as unsure as I am.
Garcia is sitting across the table from me. He is turning a golden bullet over and over in his hand like it’s a sensory toy. The light catches on its sharp corners, distractingly.
It suits him.
Robyn asked Garcia where he got it when he pulled it out of his pocket earlier.
He gave her a level look that freaked her out and simply said it was a souvenir.
That could mean he bought it from the gift shop of a military museum or he has gold plated his trophy bullet from his first kill.
With Garcia, who the hell knows?
Garcia is short but tough looking like he may once have been in the Marines. In his late thirties, his jet-black hair is combed back neatly from his handsome face, which is all sharp lines.
Maybe he’s not secretly working for the mafia or as a bodyguard when he disappears for weeks but rather, as a submissive Dexter.
That doesn’t worry me as much as it probably should. Possibly, I’m becoming too used to my own twin’s darkness.
“Stop freaking out the newbies.” Axel nudges Garcia.
Garcia’s lips twitch. “Why? I’m missing a Shibari session for this. I need to find my fun somehow.”
“Sadist.”
“Proud masochist, actually.”
Axel’s deep brown eyes are bright and alert. His lean, athletic body is coiled with energy.
He is only a couple of years older than Cassian but is much more confident. He is a greater extrovert than I am.
I have never met anyone who brims with as much joy for life.
Axel’s soft, inky hair frames his striking face in a polished style taken straight from a K-pop music video.
Axel is straddling his chair backwards like he’s trying to fuck it.
He is Kay’s toy, a genius erotic dancer who teaches lessons in it, as well as choreographing displays at On the RACK.
Axel has taught me how to pole dance, and I never thought that I would love that as much as I do.
Going clubbing with Axel is like watching D’Angelo play the piano: a master at work.
What Axel can do on the dance floor should be made illegal by the horny police.
When we dance together, I have to practically beat off the men from both of us with bloody sticks — hockey or otherwise.
Maybe I shouldn’t tell D’Angelo that; he may not let us go dancing together again, and it’s one of the best ways for me to blow off steam.
Axel is without doubt what Blythe would have called a bad influence.
It’s why I like him.
Kay has collected an interesting group of subs. She probably thinks the same about D’Angelo.
Axel is dressed in a mesh, sheer blouse. A high-waisted skirt sits on his narrow waist, flaring softly out at his hips.
I shift in my seat. “So, are we getting this party started? I don’t have any beers but I do have…”
I bend to pull out a Tupperware box from underneath my seat. I slide it into the middle of the table, before pulling off the lid.
Robyn sighs. “Now that’s a delicious smell.”
Cassian jumps up excitedly. “Tell me these are Eden’s special recipe scones.”
I nod. “He knew that he couldn’t be here but he baked these after lunch in order to still be here in scone spirit.”
“Maybe doms aren’t all bad.” Axel gives a cheeky wink to Cassian.
Cassian ducks his head, and his hair flops over his eye. “Eden is the best.”
“After our Mistress,” Everett loyally adds.
“It depends how good these scones are.” Cassian laughs, which is a beautiful sound that has been coaxed out of him more often since he has become friends with Eden.
When Everett pretends to make a grab for him, Cassian ducks, grabbing a scone and stuffing it into his mouth whole.
He looks like a squirrel
“Don’t choke.” Robyn chuckles. “Those scones are magical, but you still need to chew them.”
“Sit.” Everett snatches Cassian around the waist, pulling him onto his lap, but his large honey eyes are dancing with amusement.
I point at Axel. “Have we spawned a third brat?”
“Leave me out of this.” Axel waggles his eyebrows. “Mistress adores spoiling her sweet Kitten. She’d probably be the one to break down in tears if she ever needed to spank her Cas.”
Everett wrinkles his nose. “Mistress doesn’t cry.”
“I doubt that.” Robyn snags a scone, munching it happily. “She probably just doesn’t want you to see it. D’Angelo is always trying to act strong, as if doms don’t need care and support too.”
Garcia flicks his dark gaze to Robyn. “Jude is my friend. He doesn’t treat me differently because I’m a sub. He doesn’t think that we’re weaker than he is.”
“But he thinks that he can’t have the same moments of weakness that we all experience,” I reply. “Or be spoiled when he bloody needs it. How about we spend the second of these official meetings working out ways to treat our doms?”
“I already serve my Mistress every day,” Everett points out.
“Then how to care for them outside the dynamic.”
“I’m never outside it.” Everett raises his hand, hovering it close to his collar but not touching it.
It’s one of his rules that only Kay may do that.
“This isn’t a scene for me; it’s my life.
But I get what you’re saying. I’d need to ask permission to discuss it.
Maybe we could think of different ways to support each other in our relationships? ”
Cassian snuggles closer to Everett. “I like that. I am still learning about this. It would help.”
“Hey,” I sprawl in my seat, “this is new to me too. I know that I make myself look like a bloody idiot most of the time.”
“You don’t.” Garcia shrugs. “And if you do, who cares?”
He says it with such calm certainty.
I wish that I had his self-assurance.
His words make me sit straighter in my chair. “Thanks, mate.”
Unnervingly, he stills his flipping of the bullet. “Don’t call me mate.”
Garcia says it in the voice of someone about to pull the trigger.
I freeze, paling.
“What did I say about freaking out the newbies?” Axel leaps off the chair with a dancer’s elegance like he has too much pent-up energy to keep sitting any longer.
He twirls behind Garcia, as if to lay his hand on his shoulders.
“Try it and see what happens,” Garcia says without looking around.
Axel pulls his hands away, giving a light laugh.
Despite Garcia’s gangster vibes, Axel doesn’t appear intimidated. In fact, they have a weird friendship going on. If Garcia is close to anyone apart from D’Angelo and Fleet, then it’s him.
I eye the bullet.
When don’t I push my luck? I love a thrill.
“If you don’t want to be called mate, how about spy?” I lean forward.
Garcia narrows his eyes. “D’Angelo is right. You’re a brat who likes to play with fire.”
“Love it.”
“Garcia is one of the Kinks.” Robyn is struggling to keep a straight face, but I love the way that she lays her hand on my shoulder, backing me up.
“Our Sir’s best friend. The co-owner of On the RACK.
” Then she dramatically whispers, “What if Garcia is here on a special undercover mission? A plant from the doms to listen to our conversations and take back our treasonous bad behavior to them?”
Axel and Everett are laughing, but Cassian is looking worried like it’s a real possibility.
Garcia plays along, cocking his head.
“I could be,” he deadpans. He somehow manages to pull off the dom brow. I shiver at the same time as Robyn does. It’s scary. “You won’t know, unless you interrogate me.”
“Not happening, Garcia,” Everett says, sternly. “No torturing over tea.”
Garcia appears disappointed. “You’re boring, Ev. Then I’ll interrogate you. Are you intending to be bad?”
“Always,” Axel and I reply at the same time.
I grin, saluting my fellow brat.
Cassian vigorously shakes his head. “I have promised Ev that I won’t be. Also, we don’t discriminate. Even spies are welcome.”
“I’m a switch and I’m welcome,” Robyn points out.
“Not the same as a spy,” I grumble.
Garcia slips the bullet back into his pocket. “I may be best friends with Jude, but sub solidarity comes first. I’m no snitch.”
He says this like we’re not teasing and with the same seriousness as if we’re in the prison yard.
“Good to know.” I sneak a glance at Robyn.
She cups my face, kissing me.
I sit back, pulling her against my side. She is warm and fits perfectly.
I feel an unusual contentment.
After the nights of swirling anxiety and insomnia, the intensity of the unsettling practice and games facing Wilder, the pressure of the press, and everything with my parents, this is exactly what I need.
“I also made something for our gathering.” Everett pulls a plate out from underneath his seat. “Mistress ordered me to wake up at dawn and bake. She said that it was only polite that I brought something special with me. The only problem is that baking isn’t…well…”
United we stare in silence at the chocolate, sticky mess on the plate.
I break the silence. “It’s the taste that counts, right?”
“I won’t be insulted if no one eats the cakes,” Everett hurries to say. “They may poison you.”
“Cakes?” Robyn blurts. “I thought that they were cookies.”
Axel muffles his laugh on the back of his hand. “You should see his attempts at cooking pancakes. Instead of being flat, they end up as thick as cakes.”
Everett narrows his eyes at Axel. “You’re welcome to take over cooking and baking duties for the household.”
“No, thanks.” Axel strikes a pose. “I’m too busy looking this good.”
I valiantly take a cake. Thrill seeker, see?
“I’m sure that it’s…” I stuff the gooey cake into my mouth and then try not to gag.