Chapter 8
Three years ago
Mclean
Ash Riley
It was crazy how much a place could both put me at ease and unsettle me.
Mclean House consisted of a grand, three-story Victorian, with playrooms, nightclub area, shower rooms for watersports, a dojo for the ropers, and a million possibilities.
We were surrounded by fields, a forest, and memories of takedowns, brat screams, and pain.
The inspiration wrote itself out here, and yet, I wasn’t ready for much of it.
Perfect. The patio was almost empty. Members hadn’t started showing up for tonight’s happenings yet, so I was looking forward to catching some late-spring sun at one of the picnic tables while I prepared for my demo.
Reese had asked me to demonstrate knife play to D-types only. No playthings allowed.
Cam was the only one out here. He was one of the younger kids. Around twenty or so.
It helped that they hadn’t uncovered the pool yet for the season. Otherwise, the pool drew a crowd. Every damn day, it seemed.
I glanced over at the founding members’ six A-frame cabins that lined the western perimeter, wondering if the twins were around. I knew Colt and Lucas were here somewhere. Their task for the afternoon was to hide candy bars down in the forest.
“How you doin’, brat?” I asked, dumping my knife bag on the table.
He glanced up from his book and gave me a frustrated look. “I’m not a brat, Sir. And hello. Good to see you again.”
Oh. Huh. See, I was under the impression you were a brat if you did bratty things.
Maybe I was wrong.
I sat down across from him. “So, last time when you helped Tate fill Kingsley’s shoes with sand, that was what?”
“A one-time thing,” the boy responded quickly. “I owed him a favor.”
I snorted in amusement. “Sounds like brat logic to me. It never makes sense.”
“Oh, let’s not discuss logic, Sir. I’m not sure you know what that is.”
I smirked and lifted a brow at him.
He turned sheepish. “That was a bratty response, wasn’t it?”
I tapped my nose, then unzipped my bag.
“What’s that?” he wondered.
“Knives.” I pulled out my favorite set of throwing knives and my tool kit.
Cam widened his eyes. “You use them during play?”
“Well, sure. It’s a popular toy in fear play.”
“Hmpf. That’s so not me.”
I already knew that. He was busy exploring high-protocol and bondage. He was also making eyes at Lucian whenever he was here.
Lucian wasn’t completely innocent either. I’d caught him eyeing Cam a few times, but for starters, the man was off the market. Secondly, I’d heard him say he could never go for someone so young.
Cam would find someone eventually.
“What’re you studying, by the way?” I nodded at his textbook.
He held it open so I could read the title, and that alone almost put me to sleep. Applying generalized models in data analysis and… I stopped reading. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Are you some kind of genius?” I asked.
He laughed and shook his head. “No, Sir. I’m just dumb enough to wanna study data.”
“Hrrm.” I made a sound of disapproval. “Don’t call yourself dumb, pet. That’s incredible. You should be proud of yourself.”
Sheepishness bled across his cheeks, and he smiled a little. “I am kind of advanced, I guess.”
“Yeah, I fucking bet—with a title like that,” I replied. “A bit of a spoiler too, innit? The title gives the whole book away. Now I know what it’s about.”
He cracked up. “You’re funny, Sir.”
I smiled.
The doors to the main house opened behind me, so I glanced over my shoulder and saw Nathan poking his head out.
“Hi, Sir,” Cam said.
“Hello, Cameron.” Nate smiled at him before refocusing on me. “I thought I’d order our food now. I’ll be knee-deep in rope soon, and I don’t think jute and pizza grease go together.”
“Good call,” I chuckled. “You know what I like.” I turned back to Cam. “Have you eaten, kiddo?”
He nodded. “I’ve had breakfast and a vending machine snack.”
I furrowed my brow and returned my gaze to Nathan. “Grab an extra pie for brats who don’t take care of themselves properly.”
“I’ll find something.” Nate closed the doors again.
At the same time, I heard signs of life down the lawn, so I looked past the pool and spotted Greer coming out of his cabin with another guy.
“I’m not a brat, Sir,” Cam reminded me.
“So you keep saying,” I answered distractedly.
Had I met that guy before? I didn’t think so.
He must be new. We’d had an influx of new members lately, and we kinda needed it.
We were running low on brats and primal prey.
Timothy had lasted less than a year, Emilio had hightailed it after the Tenleys had ended their dynamic with him, and Caleb had moved to LA. “Who’s that?”
Cam followed my gaze. “His name is Eric. Eric with a ‘k,’ he introduced himself as. He’s the boyfriend of one of Greer’s friends in New York or something. I got a little lost in the intro earlier.”
Well, fingers crossed he stuck around for a while. We needed willing targets to chase down around here.
“I’m gonna go see if Macklin is here yet.” Cam grabbed his stuff. “I’ll come running when I smell cheese. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”
“Nah, I’m good—but thanks.”
He headed inside while Greer and Erik walked past the pool. Cute-as-fuck guy, there was no denying that. He was on the short side but looked like he had plenty of attitude. And a charming grin.
“Are you keeping brats hidden in your cabin, Greer?” I called.
He let out a laugh and draped an arm around the guy’s shoulders. “Funny you should ask.” They picked up the pace, and he spoke again when they were ten feet away. “I want you to meet Erik.”
“Spelled with a ‘K,’” Erik interjected quickly. “That’s important.”
“I’ll respect that better than a Starbucks barista,” I replied, extending a hand as they reached me. “Good to meet you, kid. I’m Ash.”
He shook my hand with a big smile on his face. “Master Greer has told me about you, Sir. You’re one of the four Daddy Doms out here I have a big crush on.”
My eyebrows lifted, and I exhaled a laugh. “Well, I’m flattered to be part of a somewhat exclusive club. Who are the others?”
He grinned impishly. “Mister Colt, Mister Reese, and Mister KC.”
Solid group.
Greer shook his head in amusement. “Erik went through the online albums from our recent events and decided he had to come down here and visit the community. He’s also on a mission for his Daddy—to see if they should relocate from New York to Virginia.”
“And to possibly find play partners!” Erik added. “Daddy and I like to have fun with others sometimes.”
How about that. “So you have a packed schedule while you’re here.”
He nodded proudly.
Greer clapped the boy on his shoulder. “Our food should be here any minute, so I’ll go out front. You wanna stay here with Ash?”
“Yes, Sir.” Erik wasted no time. He sat down next to me. “I have studied your online profile like a good boy, and I have questions.”
Greer and I chuckled, and we exchanged a brief look, a silent understanding passing between us. I’d keep an eye on Erik until Greer was back. If the kid was in the middle of regression, it might be necessary.
“First of all, what’re you doing, Sir?” Erik pointed at the knife I was working on.
“I’m dulling the edge.” I ran the sandpaper along the blade and showed him. “It’s to make it safe for knife play. I’m hosting a demo for Tops tonight.”
“Cute Littles who like knife play such as myself can’t come?”
He was fucking cute.
“Not this time,” I said. “We don’t want the bottoms to know all the tricks in fear play.”
It was up to each Dom how much they wanted to divulge.
On the other hand, I’d planned on asking Kingsley if I could borrow Tate to demonstrate some things on. But knowing their kinks, maybe I should consider Erik instead. Tate was definitely one of those primal prey who didn’t want too much information before a fear-play event.
“Makes sense,” Erik answered with a nod. “So…you’re a Daddy Dom and Sadist and Primal Predator, according to your profile.”
“Correct,” I chuckled.
“But you’re listed as married to Rigger, or whatever his real name is, and he’s a Dom and rope rigger.”
“Yup, yup. Nate—he’s my husband.”
“Right. I can’t math that. Are you open? Where do the subs come in?”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?
“We’ve had some casual play with subs,” I settled for saying. It wasn’t technically wrong. It’d just been a long-ass time.
Maybe too long.
“Interesting…” Erik planted his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand as he watched me. “Master Greer says you’re wicked in a good way. I like wickedness.”
The boy wasn’t subtle.
“What else did Master Greer say?”
“That you and your husband are very nice, but you’re not lifestyle kinksters. And then he said I’d have to ask you myself and that I ask a lot of questions.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Yeah, that sounds like him. But questions are good. Better to ask too many than not enough.”
“He said that too! Just that he was the wrong person to ask about you.”
There you go.
“You’re not shy, are you?” I smirked.
He smiled and shook his head. “Life’s too short for shyness, and I’m getting old fast.”
I felt my forehead wrinkle. “Are you even twenty-five?”
He sat up straighter and puffed out his chest. “I’m twenty-eight.”
Ah. Well. Still very young in the eyes of someone who cruised by forty a couple years ago.
A few hours later
Mclean
Nathan Riley
Part of me wanted to ask right now what’d been wrong with the Little who’d so clearly shown interest in Ash tonight. The other part…had evidently decided that I was going to sit here in the car on the way home and stew in silence.
I hadn’t planned on attending Ash’s demo, but since it’d been closed to the public and only open for fear-players, they’d opted for a demo room on the second floor… So close to the rope dojo. I’d snuck in during a break. I’d seen him on a small platform with the young man he’d introduced at dinner.
Little Erik had been super excited to be Ash’s test subject in front of all those Tops.
For a short minute, I’d been flooded with hope, anticipation, nerves, and worries.
I’d started thinking about boundaries and possibilities—and my reaction to seeing Ash and Erik banter together had been so strong that I couldn’t help but feel scared of the resignation and emptiness that were left behind once I realized Ash wasn’t going to do anything about this opportunity.
When the demo had been over, Ash had thanked Erik, kissed the top of his head, and left the guy with Greer and KC.
I had reached the stage where I was willing to explore the option of Ash seeing a Little on his own.
Without me involved. Because that would be one factor that could be taken out of the equation; as in the potential play partner needing to have good chemistry with me as well.
I didn’t fucking care anymore. I didn’t have to be there. It was Ash’s core kink, not mine.
“How did the suspension session go?” he asked. “You’re too quiet for my liking, and I need you in a good mood the second we go to bed.”
Jesus.
I didn’t need to be a psychologist to understand he’d built up some needs from the role he’d shouldered tonight. I’d bet my career on the fact that he’d gotten another too-small taste of the Daddy Dom lifestyle.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we haven’t fucked in almost a week,” he mentioned. “That’s unlike us.”
I had noticed.
Even worse, we used to shower together at least four or five times a week. Mainly for the intimacy and having a moment that was just ours. Ten minutes of mending fences, taking the edge off, and catching up.
I glanced over at him in the darkness as unease spread in my chest, and it dawned on me that we had actual problems in our marriage.
But it was confusing and…a side of me didn’t want to admit it, because nothing was wrong with our feelings or level of commitment.
Ash was the love of my life, and I felt it every damn day.
I loved him so much. I loved seeing him at the end of the day.
I loved spending time with him. We could still make time fly like nobody else. He was my best friend.
Something big was brewing, though. And I worried that this conflict between us was already too infected. I mean, I was reluctant to ask him about Erik because I knew the reaction I’d get. He’d go on the defensive and get angry.
“What’re you thinkin’ so hard on?” he asked, squeezing my thigh.
“You.”
He smiled. “I like where this is going.”
“No, you don’t.” I had to say something. I couldn’t suppress it forever. “Erik was interested in you, Ash.”
As I’d predicted, he withdrew. His hand disappeared, his expression shuttered, he gripped the wheel a little tighter, and his jaw ticked with tension.
I took a breath and braced myself.
“I snuck in and watched the end of your demo,” I said. “You clearly had good chemistry. You were having fun. You were a Daddy.”
“He’s too young. Kid’s not even thirty.”
I furrowed my brow. That was the most ridiculous argument. “We’ve played with subs who are younger than that.” Thirty? Come on. If he’d said twenty, I would’ve been more understanding.
He shook his head, visibly irritated and tired. “Do we have to do this tonight? I’m so fucking sick of you pushing that whole playtime dynamic idea down my throat. If I’m not interested, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
I clenched my jaw and looked out my window instead.
You know what? I was tired too. Fuck it. It wasn’t worth arguing over anymore.
If I close my eyes and think hard, I can get lost in old echoes of your warm laughter.
I can see your infectious grins so vividly that my eyes burn with unshed tears, because I miss us so fucking much, Ash.
I don’t know what to do without you. If our children is my fuel, you’re the engine.
And the fucking GPS, because now I just feel lost.
It’s supposed to be you and me, honey.