Chapter 5
Six years ago
Arlington
Ash Riley
“Don’t forget your backpack, honey.”
“Oh, shoot!” Hallie grabbed her pack before I shut the door.
“Do you really think Dad can fix the banister before we get home?” Dylan asked, shouldering his own backpack.
“No way,” I laughed. “I’ll fix it after work.”
Nate had other strengths. Carpentry and home renovations weren’t two of them.
And lord knew our house needed more of both.
Four years in that house, and we were still preparing it for future owners.
But that was the price we’d had to pay for a quick move all those years ago.
We hadn’t exactly scored our dream house.
Hallie slipped her hand into mine as we headed for their school, and she asked if we could buy a new lunch box this weekend, because the latch on her current one was broken.
“I’ll add it to the list,” I confirmed. “We gotta pick up a gift for your cousin anyway.”
Much to our parents’ delight, Theo had finally settled down. Six weeks after he’d joined us in Virginia last year, we’d hammered out the details for our scaffolding business, and he’d gone out to celebrate, only to meet a nice woman he’d knocked up shortly thereafter.
“Can I pick the gift, Daddy? I know what girls like,” Hallie said.
I smiled down at the squirt, intrigued. “I haven’t seen you play with dolls since you discovered video games and got your first ant farm. Ain’t a whole lot there a newborn will like.”
She waved me off with the confidence only an eight-year-old could possess. When the world was black and white, and only one perspective existed. Their own.
“I saw a stuffie at Target,” she answered.
All right, then. At least it was age-appropriate.
Drop-off went smooth as usual, except Dylan wanted to walk the last bit to his classroom on his own these days. It was what his friends were doing. Parents weren’t cool anymore.
Nate would pick them up this afternoon, and I’d see them after work, which always felt too far away.
Oh, how fucking ironic, running into Reid at lunch. On the same day Nate had gently reminded me we hadn’t attended a kink party in ages. Reid and his buddy Max ran a kink community over in Alexandria, and if I were a good partner, I’d go over to Reid’s table and ask when the next munch was.
He was a building inspector, and we’d crossed paths at worksites countless times before we found ourselves in the same food truck line, bonding over the fact that we each had a son named Dylan.
Fun times.
But I didn’t go over to him in the packed diner. Instead, we exchanged nods and typical “ah, you again” grins before we focused on our lunches. I had twenty minutes before I had to get back to work across the street, and this diner had a burger with my name on it.
Besides, we didn’t fucking have time for kink these days.
Between work, the kids, marches in support of legalizing gay marriage across the country, finalizing the adoption process for Dylan and Hallie, reentering the foster care system to expand our family, and occasionally dressing up to have dinner with Nate in a restaurant that didn’t have a kids’ menu, kink was the last thing on my mind.
Frankly, I wasn’t sure we could go further anyway.
We were secure enough in our relationship to have casual fun with subs and Littles together—but we had zero time for that.
Nate attended bondage nights every now and then at various events around the city, but to be perfectly honest, they bored me.
Bondage to Nathan was…fuck, like meditation.
He grew introspective and superfocused while he tied up men and women in all kinds of ropes and patterns.
I fed off reactions and emotions; I needed shit wild and rough.
Like the takedown event we’d attended a few years ago when we’d visited friends in Boston.
We’d hunted down a friend’s sub, and we’d all had fun with him.
What else could I do? I had a mental block where Daddykink was concerned. I still felt it was a core kink of mine, but I didn’t have it in me to share that level of intimacy with someone other than Nathan.
It was what it was. I’d rather focus on our family.
This is what I live for.
The moment I came home, I could relax. My whole world was in the kitchen, with Nate preparing dinner, Dylan and Hallie sitting at the table, music playing—the Lion King soundtrack, for some reason—and not a lot of homework being done because the kids were arguing about which song Nate and I should dance to at our future wedding. The proper wedding, that was.
We didn’t have a date, but evidently we had two little DJs.
“Hi, Daddy!” Hallie ran over to me, and I bent down and hugged her tightly.
“Hey, green eyes.” I kissed the top of her head.
“Right on time, love.” Nathan came over to me too, and I gave him a big smooch. “You already showered?”
“I showered at the office so I could be of use the minute I came home. Put me to work.”
“Dad! What do you think of this song?” Dylan asked.
I chuckled, picturing a reception where we danced to Disney songs. “Hell, why not? If there’s one place I can feel the love tonight, it’s probably gonna be at the wedding.”
“It’s perfect,” Hallie stated, returning to the table.
I merely smiled and followed Nate over to the counter.
“That’s settled, then. It means you two can go back to finishing your homework,” Nathan replied pointedly.
It was spaghetti and Bolognese night at the Riley-Mills house, so here we go. Nate had prepped everything in little bowls already. He did the seasoned pasta and salad, and I did the Bolognese. Those were the rules.
I threw a dish towel over my shoulder and dropped the ground pork into a skillet. Nathan wanted me to wait till the butter was sizzling; I said it didn’t fucking matter. Besides, ground pork didn’t need butter.
I bobbed my head to the beat of Dylan’s favorite song on the entire CD. When a meerkat and a warthog got going, our boy wasn’t worried about being cool in front of classmates. He belted out the lyrics and made his sister laugh madly.
“How was your day off?” I asked.
“Good. I ran all our errands and had time for a nap,” Nate replied.
I smirked and cocked a brow at him. “The idea was for you to rest all day.”
He’d worked overtime the past month, so he needed some time off.
“If it makes you feel any better, I took one look at the banister and walked away.”
I laughed. Just as well. If he’d tried to fix it, chances were it’d be even looser than before.
I was already planning on repairing it after dinner.
It would take me an hour, tops. It was just one section of it, but that part was right outside Dylan’s room upstairs, where shit needed to be bolted down. Kid was wild.
A few hours later
Nathan Mills
“They’re asleep,” I yawned, rejoining Ash in the living room.
I picked up discarded toys and clothes along the way, leaving it all in my reading chair for later.
Hallie wasn’t much for playing with toys anymore, even though she was only eight.
Instead, she was obsessed with video games and crafts—although, she did have an impressive collection of stuffed animals.
Dylan, on the other hand, wouldn’t retire his Legos and dinosaurs for quite a while.
Ash lifted an arm on the couch, and I was quick to join his side and rest my head on his shoulder. My legs landed on the coffee table, alongside his.
“Want some dirty talk?” He pressed his lips to my temple, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.”
I rumbled a sleepy laugh and smacked his chest.
He chuckled and grabbed his phone next to him. “Do you recognize this number?” He showed me the screen—and a text that’d been sent a couple of minutes ago.
Who is this?
I suppressed another yawn and eyed the number, then shook my head. “Text back and ask.”
He hummed, and I watched him type out a response.
Depends. How did you get my number?
I blinked sleepily and slid my gaze to the TV. The news was running on mute, perfect to fall asleep to.
I had an early day tomorrow with sessions starting at seven, so I had to go to bed soon.
“Mystery scammer responded.” Ash showed me the screen again.
If I knew, I’d be able to figure out who you are. I’m just cleaning up my phone, and I saw I had a number saved as N.A UK.
N.A UK?
“I don’t think it’s a scammer, but it’s definitely weird,” I said.
“Yeah.” Based on the little smirk on Ash’s face, he was going to be a dick in his answer. He looked way too smug typing, and he didn’t show it to me until he’d sent it.
Looks to me like you’ve been in touch with Narcotics Anonymous in the UK.
Yup. Called it. Wait—in the UK? N.A.
Uh.
I sat up straighter and scratched my nose. “N.A could also stand for Nathan and Ash in the UK.”
Ash looked at me like he sometimes looked at the math problems in Dylan’s homework.
I raised my brows. “The Marine we hooked up with in London? You exchanged numbers.”
He snapped his fingers, realization dawning on him, and he went back to typing. “We fucking did.”
Then he showed it to me.
Possibly a long shot, but did you hook up with a couple whose names start with N and A in the UK?
What was his name—Kane, something. Kris? No—Kyle. Kyle.
As hot as that evening had been, Kyle mustn’t have made the cut last time Ash bought a new phone.
“He texted.” Ash showed me Kyle’s response and chuckled.
The kinky Americans. Fond fucking memories. How the hell are ya? Still together? You’re not in New York by any chance?
I snorted and lay back down on his shoulder.
Ash opted to speak out loud what he wrote back.
“Fine as hell. Definitely together. But no, we’re not in New York. We settled down with two kids outside DC. How many ‘Who dis’ texts have you sent tonight?”
I chuckled drowsily.
Another yawn slipped out, and I closed my eyes.
Ash kissed the side of my head and rubbed a hand down my arm.
It was going to be impossible not to fall asleep in his arms…in the next ten or so minutes. Maybe five. Maybe two.
“I’ll wake you up in a bit, baby.”
Perfect.
“He replied, by the way,” he chuckled. “Eighteen fucking times, he’s asked people who they are. He swears he’s just cleaning out his phone.”
I hummed. “Sounds like he’s terrible at naming people in his contact list.”
“Or he gets around that much.”
That too.
“Didn’t he mention in London he had a kinky brother?”
Fuck, who could remember? “Maybe. I don’t know. Why?”
“He mentioned him again. Said maybe we’d crossed paths since we run in the same circles—he lives in the area. I’ve heard of Mclean House.”
I cracked one eye open and peered up at him. “Kyle’s brother is a member there?”
“I guess so. Well, Kyle said Mclean-something.”
I nodded and closed my eyes again. “Mclean House is on the list I gave you of communities that cater more to Sadists and rough play.”
From what I could tell, they didn’t have much of a bondage community, but I wasn’t picky at this point. I just wanted us to get back to kink somehow. Ash was holding so much of himself back.
“It would be nice if we could at least go to a munch,” I said.
“I dare you to find time for that in our schedule.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes, had they been open…
We’d moved closer to our family for a damn reason. My folks could watch the kids whenever.
You’re a little too good at making me forget potential problems, love.
That’s all I’m saying. Because when you come home from work with pizza and a new bundle of rope for us to “try out when the kids are asleep,” you can’t fucking expect me to hold a grudge or point out that you’re denying your own identity in kink.
Damn you.
We will circle back to this at some point, but okay, let me tie you up first.