Chapter Twenty-Eight
Today was the first of hopefully many Kink and Gaming Nights at Whipped.
Nolan had thought he’d be a mess going into it, given that this had all been orchestrated as a way to pivot out of the mess Carter was making. Instead, he felt calm. Hopeful.
That probably had a lot to do with the fact that Carter and his buddies hadn’t weaseled out of this situation.
An “anonymous” tip had dropped the website featuring the accounts of women who’d been harmed by Carter and Ken to the cops, along with the articles about past issues involving Carter’s other aliases.
Needless to say, Carter and Ken weren’t leaving the area anytime soon, since they were under active investigation, and Ken was no longer working with James and Parker. Thank fuck.
Whipped could move forward again, threats and disturbance free.
Tonight felt more like a celebration than anything.
“Are you looking forward to this?” James asked, threading his fingers through Nolan’s as they strode down the sidewalk in the direction of Whipped. “You worked hard—not just with marketing the hell out of this event, but also on coming up with the strategy to push Carter out of our scene.”
Nolan nodded. As much as he was excited about tonight, he was even more excited that James would be by his side.
For the last few years, the one secret dream he’d held close to his chest was finding someone who was his.
Someone who saw past all his issues to the person beneath.
Who let him take care of them, and who took care of him in turn.
James was more than he could’ve hoped for, far beyond his wildest fantasies.
He was a wicked sadist in the bedroom and a kind, patient partner outside, and Nolan was wholly and utterly in love.
James leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m so proud of you.”
Fucking swoon. Nolan squeezed his hand, his heart so full it threatened to expand out of his chest. Around him was the hum and whir of the city, the screech of tires, the honks of cars, and the thump of footsteps. The stars overhead were barely visible, but down here, the streetlights, they glowed.
“Momma’s already asking when the next dinner is,” James said.
“As soon as she wants it,” Nolan said, not even shy about the fact that James’s mother was as much of a charmer as he was.
She was outspoken and loved to tell stories, and Nolan had bonded with her at once.
When some of his OCD tendencies flared up during dinner, James worked with him, not calling attention to them or acting like he was dramatic or an inconvenience.
“She likes you,” James said with a soft smile.
“I’m luckier for it,” Nolan said. “Now, are you ready to go play a campaign?”
James lit up, his expression incandescent. “I can’t wait. It’s been so long.”
“Maybe I’ll even sit in on a session,” Nolan teased. “At least after we make the rounds and I put my time in at the newbie corner.”
At the end of the block, Whipped’s sign was backlit, and a few people walked in through the door. It was all hands on deck, but after Nolan spent the whole day decorating, Meg kicked him out and made him go home for a breather before returning. One she clearly wasn’t taking herself.
Nolan’s heart pumped a bit harder as he approached the front door.
This place was his home, as much as his residence, as much as this city.
Whipped had carved a permanent mark on his heart, and if he had it his way, he’d make sure it survived, no matter what storms dropped to their doorstep.
As much as he’d longed for a partner, he’d found acceptance long before that—in Sloan’s way of making sure his mug sat in the right place when his day started.
Of Fin always sterilizing equipment when they played.
Of Meg’s firm insistence that he went home for the day.
This place was a rarity, a safe haven where he always knew he’d be welcomed.
Where he’d see family whenever he arrived.
The sounds of the event washed over him at once, more voices than he was used to hearing upon entering.
The usual scent of vanilla wafted through, but more mingled in—a variety of different spices he wasn’t used to that smelled delicious.
The tables were spaced apart, different from how they set up for the weekly munch, and were filled with platters of bite-sized samplers from Tabletop Tavern, courtesy of Arjun, as well as pastries and desserts typically available at Whipped on any normal day.
Both Fin and Micah manned the bar, which was crowded with folks waiting for their drinks.
Fin waved at Nolan. “Babe, it’s hopping. How did you get the word out to this many people?”
Nolan grinned. “That’s my job, right?” Though, truthfully, the amount even up here was double what he’d expected, crowded to the point he was weaving through as he clutched James’s hand tight.
The abrupt cancellation and implosion over at Euphoria Club had a little more to do with the turnout.
They’d avoided public feuds, and when Carter was exposed, people turned to the alternative that had been there all along.
Parker popped out of the back room, along with Ollie, both carrying backup cups and lids for the bar.
They’d signed on to help here all night, while Pixie and Meg started the newbie class.
Sloan and Nolan had agreed to be floaters, pretty much ushering people in, answering any questions necessary, and handling the replenishing of supplies.
The chatter and excitement was infectious.
“Oh my god, this food is amazing,” a college-age girl gushed as she pointed to one of the platters. “Where is it from?”
“Tabletop Tavern,” Nolan said as he slipped over to grab a mini-samosa. He popped it in his mouth and savored the burst of flavor as it hit his tongue. “They’re partnering with us for the event—the gaming part of the Kink and Gaming Night.”
“Good to know,” she said, whipping out her phone, clearly to jot down details.
Nolan guided James through the crowd to the dungeon steps, and the noise down there reverberated upward. Thankfully, no one lingered on the stairs, so they easily made it down. When they reached the basement, the sight took his breath away.
The setup was just as he’d envisioned, the newbie kink class in one corner, with Meg and Pixie already instructing around fifteen or so folks, some standing, some sitting on beanbags strewn around the area.
On the other side, they had set up tables that fit six people apiece, and Hunter stood at one, and at another, one of the owners of Tabletop Tavern, Cal.
They looked involved in whatever one-shot Hunter and Cal were running, with dice, character sheets, and pencils messily splayed on the tables.
The last table had three younger guys sitting at it, but no one was at the head.
Sloan approached them. “Hey, everything’s going great, but the turnout is a bit more than anticipated. We’ve got a group waiting to get in on a one-shot when they can.”
Nolan’s brows rose, and his mind whirred. One idea settled staunchly in his brain, and he glanced at James. “Hey, Mr. Former DM…what do you say about running this?”
James’s eyes widened. “Me? Now?”
“You’ve got the experience,” he said, squeezing his hand. “And this would be a great way to get back on the saddle. I bet Hunter and Cal have more print-ups of the modules they’re running.”
James pressed his lips together and furrowed his brows as he deliberated over what to do next.
“There’s also no pressure if you can’t,” Nolan said softly, meeting his gaze.
James nodded. “I want to do it.” The excitement lighting his features was electric, and damn, Nolan was ready to soar. He fell more and more in love with this man by the day.
“Here, I’ll take you over to introduce you to the guys,” Sloan said.
Before James stepped off with him, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Nolan’s. “Thank you,” he said. “For knowing when to push but checking in regardless.”
“I love you,” Nolan said, meaning those words with his whole soul.
“I love you too,” James said back, giving Nolan’s hand one more squeeze before he jogged after Sloan to start his own one-shot campaign.
Nolan let the chatter wash over him, the joyful excitement infectious in the air.
This dungeon had been a safe space for him for so long, had been where they celebrated triumphs, where they’d enjoyed filthy, filthy nights together, and where they’d come together and mourned or lifted each other up too.
It was only fitting to be here now with the man he’d fallen for, taking those new steps forward down a path they’d travel together.
Nolan had been broken for so long, too damaged to love, but this place healed him.
The crew at Whipped had put his pieces back one by one, and then James came and settled the final piece in place.
He fulfilled him with every cozy night they curled up together on the couches, every morning ritual they shared, and every scene that James brought him to his knees and built him back up again.
He didn’t doubt for a second—this was the man he wanted to be with…for life.