Chapter 2
I wake to the sensation of strong hands gliding over my skin and gentle kisses being placed down my back. My brain is still sluggish from a night of vodka shots and beer chasers, but the brief nap has helped to clear most of the fog so it doesn’t take long to remember hooking up with Cody.
So, I guess that explains the throbbing in my ass…
Under normal circumstances I prefer to top, but when I’m drunk and horny and feeling too lazy to put the work in? That’s when I’m happy to let someone else take charge.
And over the past few weeks that someone else has been Cody.
This visit to LA has included way more partying than my regular life in New York—which is a tad ironic seeing as how my regular life involves spending nearly every night at my bar—so having a buddy around who’s always up for some no-strings fucking has been handy.
What Cody’s doing right now feels nice, but I have no interest in being fucked again. My brain has completely rebooted now, so there’s no chance of shutting off that circus long enough to take a dick.
Shifting away from him, I reach for my phone on the nightstand to check the time. I must not have slept very long because it’s still early—just after two am. Still early enough to arrange something a little more…stimulating.
As I scroll through my notifications, I can’t stop my mouth from curving up at the sight of three new messages on the BDSM app I use to connect with subs.
Two are from people I’ve never interacted with before, and one is from a guy I had a very fun afternoon with last week.
There’s also a text from Jonny, an old sub who relocated to LA last year; we’ve caught up a couple times over the past few weeks, and I wouldn’t say no to another go round.
Well, damn. I’m popular tonight…
Before I can decide which sub to set up some playtime with, I notice my text exchange with Piper has a dot next to it, indicating a new message.
Piper Grimsay
No need to book a flight. The jet’s waiting whenever you’re ready
I blink at the text for a moment before sliding farther across the bed and swinging my legs down, straightening up so I’m sitting on the side of the bed.
The new position might be more comfortable but it hasn’t done much for the unease twisting inside me.
Piper assured me her news wasn’t anything dire, but if she’s gone to the trouble of arranging for Dad’s jet to pick me up the situation must be more urgent than I was imagining.
I frown in thought as I run through all the information at hand, finally able to push the worry aside as I let common sense prevail.
If the situation were truly worth freaking out about she wouldn’t have given me such an ambiguous, open-ended deadline.
And I’d likely have at least three more texts and several voicemails telling me to move my ass.
Besides, based on the time she sent the text it looks as though the jet was already on the west coast for some other reason.
But even with this reassurance, I decide to get moving straight away.
I don’t want to inconvenience the flight crew any further and I’m dying to know what Piper’s news is.
After doing a quick calculation of the flight duration, time difference, and the amount of time it’ll take for me to get to the airport I decide to arrange for a five am departure—that’ll get me to LaGuardia by early afternoon, so I can meet Piper for lunch.
I send a quick email to Dad’s concierge team, knowing someone will read it within about five minutes and make the necessary arrangements. Then I set my phone back on the nightstand, unable to hold back the regretful sigh that escapes my lips—I won’t have time for a play session after all.
“Everything alright, babe?” Cody asks from where he’s stretched out on the bed next to me.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I glance back at him. “You should probably get going, though.”
He arches a brow at me. “I was kind of hoping to stay until morning…”
I give an indifferent shrug. “Whatever. Stay if you want.” It doesn’t make much difference to me seeing as I’ll be leaving as soon as I’m packed, and I can’t imagine Star will have a problem with Cody crashing in her pool house.
I twist back around and stretch my muscles out. I’m about to get to my feet when I feel Cody move up behind me, his hands sliding over my chest.
“Since we have all night, what about another round?” he murmurs.
I shake my head. “No thanks. I’m good.”
“Are you sure about that?” he teases, his hand slipping south to close around my stiffening cock.
I bite on my lip to hold back a hiss of pleasure, then wait several moments to ensure my voice is steady when I tell him, “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re not fucking again.”
He must believe me this time, because he releases my cock. “Why? You’re clearly up for it.”
“Because I’m not drunk anymore.”
He lets out a wry little snort. “I can’t tell you how flattering that is.”
I can’t help releasing a grunt of irritation. We’ve been friends for years; this isn’t breaking news. “You know what I mean. I don’t bottom when I’m sober.”
“You seem to really like it, though.”
“Of course I like it. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t like it,” I say with a snort. “But I only like it when my brain’s switched off.”
With very rare exception the only circumstance apart from inebriation where I engage in anal penetration is the fisting I do when I’m subbing.
Yes, I sub as well. I’m what you’d call a switch.
But my sub lifestyle is very different to my Dom one.
I’ve only ever had one Dom and I couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else in that way.
Mischa was my high school boyfriend before her transition and we discovered kink together.
It might sound messed up for fifteen-year-olds to be experimenting with BDSM, but we were both going through some really heavy shit at the time and, if you ask me, consensual kink is a far healthier outlet than a lot of other crap teenagers get into.
And if a gay guy having a female Dom seems odd, I can assure you, it’s not. There are so many gray areas when it comes to kink and I’ve never found sexual attraction to be a necessary element.
“…I get it,” Cody says gently, and I realize I totally zoned out and missed what he said.
I focus back on the last few moments, hoping my ears picked something up even while my mind was distracted, but he was mumbling against my neck so all I’m getting is random words—“control,” “hard,” “everything.”
I decide to just answer with a non-committal sound of acknowledgement.
“So, maybe with the right partner—someone you really cared about and trusted completely—you might be able to let go like you do when you’re drunk?” he suggests.
My mind veers to Mischa again and I give a casual shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Okay…maybe we should try it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw.
“Huh? Try what?”
“Us…together. You bottoming.”
I let out a frustrated huff. “Cody, I literally just said we’re not fucking again. I’m sorry, but we’re just not compatible.” I break his hold and surge to my feet, striding across to the dresser and retrieving a pair of boxer briefs.
“We could be,” he presses. “We should at least give this a chance.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck, Cody. If you’re that desperate for another fuck you could always have a go at catching.” I turn back around to flash a teasing smirk. “You might actually enjoy it.”
“I wasn’t talking about fucking,” he grumbles, digging a hand into his hair and yanking out the tie holding his bun in place.
I arch a brow at the familiar gesture, a sure sign of irritation. “Then what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about us.”
“Us?” My brows creep up in puzzlement as I try to make sense of his words. Maybe I haven’t sobered up as much as I thought because nothing he’s saying right now is penetrating.
“Yeah, us—you and me.”
“Well, I kind of assumed you weren’t referring to society as a whole but I appreciate the clarification,” I drawl, tugging out a pair of jeans and pulling them on.
“What’s with the jeans?” Cody asks, his frustration morphing into confusion.
“I’m a big advocate of the ‘clothing necessary’ policy for plane travel, even when it’s a private jet.”
Considering this is the first he’s heard of my plans to return home I’m not surprised to see his brows shoot up into his hairline. “You’re flying somewhere now? Where?”
“Home. Piper wants to talk to me about something, apparently.”
“Home…? You mean…New York?”
“Obviously.”
“But…I thought you were considering moving here,” he says with a frown. “Star—”
“Star likes to live in a dream world where she has the ability to bend the universe to her will,” I cut in with a wry huff. “I was never actually considering moving out here. My whole life is in New York.”
He looks a little taken aback by this, although I have no idea why—it’s not like I’ve been keeping my feelings on this topic under wraps.
He rakes a hand through his hair, frowning in consternation before climbing down from the bed and stepping toward me.
“Okay…” He draws in a steadying breath and gives a slight nod, as though reassuring himself of something.
“Okay. I can move to New York. Not right away, but maybe in the new year….”
My face screws up in bafflement at that pronouncement. “Why the fuck would you move to New York? You love LA.”
“Fuck, Jazz, why do you think?” he cries, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Because I want to be where you are.”
Before I have a chance to make sense of that pronouncement, he steps in close and wraps his hands around my face, his lips descending on mine.
The kiss is…fine. It’s not explosive but it’s not horrible either.
It’s exactly the kind of kiss you’d expect to share with a buddy you’re having convenient, drunken sex with.