Chapter 3 #3
“But you’ve spoken about six point seven and eight before.” Uh-oh, Kit wasn’t happy.
“Not with this aircraft,” Colt responded. “I’d say no more than six point five. After that, you’re overstressing it. Flight’s over. Consider that dive—you’re going from 8000 feet to, what, 3000? It’s immense pressure at 450 miles per hour.”
Kit huffed. “They should fly F-18s instead, then.”
Colt chuckled. “Then it woulda been a different story—hold on. Where are you goin’ now?”
“To admit I was wrong,” Kit grumbled. “Consider me flying up to lame-duck territory.”
That made Mister Colt laugh.
No ducks were lame, but I appreciated the mention. Ducks were awesome and should be discussed on a daily basis.
Ash never mentioned ducks. That irked me. Never about seeing any cute ducks in special places like his glovebox, in his pants, in his lunch box, at home…
Huff.
I turned around again and headed for the exit—only to come to a stop when I heard people coming down the stairs.
“No, let’s go out front,” someone said. “The shit stains from the Brat Squad are always on the patio. I think I saw Kit when we arrived.”
Whoa! Was that the troll? I hurried over to the edge of the doorway so I could hide.
“What’s wrong with Kit?” someone else asked. “I’ve only seen him clown off online—and talk about airplanes.”
“Oh, please. The rich guy who’s never suffered a day in his life suddenly bags two Doms? He’s hardly any better than Noa.”
“You don’t sound bitter at all, mate,” the friend chuckled. “There’s something about you and that Noa bloke. Didn’t you bottom for his Daddy Dom last year?”
I poked my head out a little from behind the doorframe, but I couldn’t see them. Wait—never mind. They reached the bottom steps just then, and they were carrying what looked like one of those portable X-crosses.
“We never got that far,” the dipshit replied quietly. “We played a little nonsexually, but he has this rule where he doesn’t get intimate with anyone the first few weeks.”
Um. That wasn’t true. Noa had told me about the day he and Mister KC finally got together. And all the group-play events that’d ensued.
“You’re not friends with them, are you?” the dipshit wondered.
“Fuck no,” the friend laughed. “They’re ridiculous with their constant bratting, but I don’t let them bother me like you do.”
Okay, so they were both dipshits. Dipshit motherfuckers!
Why were they being so mean? Kit and Gael had said there was very little drama at House Mclean.
The two guys headed out the door with their contraption, and I squinted toward the dirt road. Was that him? Was that Noa? If so, I had a good shot at stopping him. It looked like he was carrying a skateboard, and if I remembered correctly, his boyfriend Cam had taught him.
Now was my chance.
I walked carefully out to the lobby, staying behind a bit so the dipshits could put some distance between us, and I inched closer to the door.
If I went out right now, maybe they’d think I had overheard them, so I waited another few seconds.
Noa—and it had to be him—still hadn’t reached the last stretch of the driveway.
Three…four…five…
Welcome to House Mclean, Jordan. What an uneventful day with no horrible surprises.
This was exactly how I wanted to meet my friends for the first time.
Feeling my fingers tremble a bit, I ran them through my hair and sucked in a breath. Then I stalked outside and started crossing the lawn. In my periphery to the left, I saw the shit-talking bastards, and I hoped for their sake this didn’t escalate.
Hi, Noa. It’s me, Jordan. Yeah, funny running into you here. Nice to meet you in person and all that.
When some forty feet separated us, I caught Noa tilting his head, as if he was puzzling things together. Yeah, it was me. I was here. Yeah, I was shorter in real life. Almost as short as him!
I tested a smirk that held no confidence, so I was sure I looked ridiculous.
Thirty feet.
“Jordan?”
I nodded with a dip of my chin. “Hi.”
He flashed a lopsided grin, looking way more casual than someone who might be planning on talking with his fists soon.
Twenty feet.
“At long fucking last, man.” He picked up the pace. “You’re even hotter in person.”
And with those words, he punched all the nervousness out of me. I exhaled a laugh, and I could almost fucking cry. Sweet Jesus. The relief was so immense.
Ten feet.
“You’re one to talk.”
All of a sudden, it was as if we’d known each other forever. We exchanged a grin and closed the last distance, and it felt completely natural to just hug it out. Weeks of fretting and worrying were gone in an instant, and I was so dumb. This happened every damn time. Every time!
After almost knocking my elbow against his skateboard, I eased back and—
“Are you sure you and your hubby will be exclusive?” Noa did not beat around the bush. “If things don’t work out with Ash, call me. Even if things do work out, call me. KC has reduced humiliation sluts into pleading puddles before, and it’s hot as fuck to watch.”
Good grief! Those images were going to invade my fantasies, weren’t they?
“Umm, let’s focus on the online troll before I consider that indecent proposal,” I chuckled, maybe a little nervously.
Noa and his Daddy were way more open than James and I would ever be, but I couldn’t deny that the thought had struck before.
Like, having kinky fun in a group. It was one of the many reasons I needed Ash and Nathan to pull through.
Four was more than three, and so forth.
“What about him?” Noa peered over to where the two dipshits were setting up their X-cross. “You can’t talk me out of this, you know. I chose not to respond to your texts for a reason.”
“And what exactly is that reason?” I pressed. “Do your Owners know you’re here? What if it turns into a fight? I’ll happily help you, but they’re both significantly taller than us, and I’m not super strong. We’re just gonna look like two miniature Dachshunds barking at two Rottweilers.”
“That’s a very specific image.”
I shrugged. “I love Dachshunds. I’m trying to convince James that we should adopt one.”
He scratched his nose. “Well, I’m the attack dog in our family, and I’ve had it with that Rottweiler’s bullshit. Have you checked out his activity in the app?”
What little I had seen wasn’t good—
“All he does is talk shit about people,” he went on.
“I’m worthless and can’t fend for myself, Kit’s the rich kid who gets everything he wants served on a platter, Tate can’t stop talking about the wedding, Ivy and Gretchen shouldn’t be in charge of the munch in a community mostly for men, Gael’s a fat know-it-all, Corey’s too much, and Archie’s a poser for some fucking reason. ”
I felt my jaw tick with tension. I hadn’t known it was that bad. I mean, I’d seen some of his posts. He didn’t appear to come out here often, but he had a group of friends online and they didn’t feed his hatred. They seemed to just ignore it when he made mentions of others.
“You should go inside,” Noa stated. “We can catch up when this is over.”
Whoa. “You don’t think I’m letting you face those two goblins on your own, do you?” I placed a hand on his chest when he tried to walk past me. “I’m coming with you—if you swear you’ve thought this through.”
He jutted his chin. “I have. I’m gonna show him I can fend for myself.”
That wasn’t the best defense, because I was guessing he’d taken offense to the troll’s nonsense. But so be it. I backed off and showed my palms.
He nodded once and started walking again, and this time, I followed.
Please don’t let this escalate into a fight.
I hadn’t been in a fight since junior high when Wilson tried to steal my lunch money.
Oh, for the love of God! Now someone was calling me? My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I couldn’t very well take the call when we were roughly thirty feet away from Troll One and Troll Two.
“Do you know the fuckwit’s name?” I asked under my breath. All I knew was his username—
“Axel,” he replied. “Lucian looked it up last night when he sent the warning. No idea who the friend is.”
My phone buzzed again, right as Axel and Whatshisface glanced our way. I couldn’t lie—I felt a little nervous. I was brand-new out here, first time I was here in person, and it was during a conflict.
What if I was asked to leave?
I knew Noa sufficiently to feel confident that he would stand up for me, but that wasn’t always enough. I was a grown man. I was responsible for my decisions.
Axel tilted his head at us and smirked.
Crap.
They had finished setting up the cross, and the friend was holding a bundle of rope.
They were dressed very casually for a bondage session, but what did I know? Maybe some liked getting tied up in jeans and hoodies.
“If it ain’t a yappy little squirt,” Axel drawled.
Noa let out a laugh and tossed his skateboard in the grass. “This squirt can still fuck you up.”
The friend let out a whistle and looked amused.
I swallowed my nerves and steeled myself for something that didn’t exactly look like a peacemaking venture.
Axel snorted and folded his arms over his chest. “How are you gonna do that? Can you even reach my knees?”
I furrowed my brow. “Are we really commenting on each other’s looks?”
Because I could play that game too.
He flicked me a glance. “And you are…? Oh hell. You’re the newcomer—the guy who’s a makeup artist.”
Uh. That wasn’t weird. Did he know anything about the entertainment industry?
“Yeah, and no amount of makeup can fix what you’ve got going on there.” I gestured vaguely at his face.
He clenched his jaw when Noa cracked up.
“I think we all know I’m not the one who needs to level up in that department,” Axel bit out, eyes fixed on Noa.
“Ohh, so you look like that on purpose,” I said, nodding. “Got it. My bad.”
My pulse started drumming faster as Axel took a step toward us.
“Did you fucking want something?” he snapped. “It’s bad enough I gotta see your ugly mug online all the time.”