Chapter 6 #2
He nodded once and rubbed his hands against his jeans, kind of like I did when my hands were sweaty. “Yeah. A little nervous, perhaps.”
“About what? Tell me.” I didn’t want him to think my caregiving only extended to Jordan. “Just like I’ll want Jordan to get used to the idea of coming to me with kink-related worries…”
He flicked me a hesitant look, and then he dug something out of his back pocket. “What if it goes beyond kink?” He handed me a folded piece of paper.
I opened it and saw a lengthy list that Jordan had written.
Ask Mister Rigger about his favorite snacks, meals, and treats.
Ask Mister Rigger about his favorite hobbies and interests.
Ask Mister Rigger about his favorite music and TV shows.
Ask Mister Rigger what he thinks about ducks.
Dig for clues about what to put on Mister Rigger’s door sign. Maybe something for his office? Be mindful of the nature of his work.
Does Mister Ash want a door sign for his office too? Dig for clues!
“You have to tell me if I should advise him to ease off,” James said quietly.
“I understand we’re lookin’ to start a kink dynamic here, but he’s so focused on getting everythin’ right, and he cares so deeply already.
And this is happenin’ on top of everythin’ else—work, friends, family, me.
He ain’t neglectin’ anythin’. He’s just takin’ more on. ”
That sweet little boy. Christ, my heart took a hit at this. The list went on for several more items, but I felt it wasn’t for my eyes. So I handed it back to James.
“He doesn’t have to ease off one bit,” I murmured.
“There’s room for all this in a kink dynamic.
We want to know everything about both of you.
The—yeah. I guess the one thing you can remind him is that we can’t set aside several hours every day.
But as long as he’s patient—we’ll get there.
” I pointed to the list in his hand. “I appreciate you showin’ me that, but he ain’t the only one compiling lists. I promise.”
I’d show him. Now that Nate and I were back together, James and Jordan would see for themselves that we needed them in our lives. And we weren’t in it for instant gratification or just to satisfy ourselves.
James nodded once and appeared to relax. “Thank you, boss. Maybe I’m overprotective because I know Jordan’s folks.”
“I’d say you’re the right amount of protective.” I squeezed his leg.
I’d heard more than one story about Jordan’s parents from James, so I didn’t blame him for looking out for his husband.
It wasn’t one of those horrifying stories of abuse and neglect, but rather the low-key heartbreak that flew under the radar for so many kids all over.
One parent having narcissistic tendencies, another drinking just a bit too much on the weekends, too much fighting, another parent using the children as therapists, using guilt as a tool to gain sympathy and assistance, anger issues, broken promises, and on it went.
Jordan was closer—much, much closer—to one of his uncles and his wife. Some cousins too. He had family he loved, and he had family he avoided.
From an early age, Jordan had turned to arts and crafts to shut out the world.
To build his own universe, in which he felt safe.
It was why he used it to show his appreciation as an adult.
The gifts he gave, he’d made himself. He hadn’t invited me to his hobby room at home yet, but he’d shown me pictures.
The guy had it all. Lily would take one look at the room and scream at the top of her lungs that she wanted the exact same setup.
I leaned closer to James and kept my voice down.
“But yeah, I want a door sign for my office. Tell him I’d like two penguins and two black swans on it.”
This time, there was no hesitation in his smile. “I will.”
“Good.” I leaned back in my seat and left my hand on his leg. Nate was welcoming everyone to tonight’s event, and I didn’t wanna miss anything. “Now, let’s watch our boy get tied up by the best rigger in the world.”
James chuckled. “No bias, right?”
“Absolutely no bias.” I smiled to myself, knowing full well that Nate would cuss me out for what I’d said. With the mandatory smack to my shoulder too. “What’s your first impression of him anyway?”
He let out a low whistle. “Very easy on the eyes. A bit intimidatin’. I reckon I need to watch myself around him.”
Smart observation. Definitely accurate. Nate saw it all.
And yeah, he was very, very easy on the eyes…
“…happy so many are here,” Nate was saying. “I’m Nathan Riley, for those of you who are new at Mclean. You can call me Nathan, Nate, Mr. Riley, Sir, whatever makes you comfortable.”
Jordan instantly raised a hand.
Nate smiled faintly, curious. “Yes, Jordan.”
“Can I call you Mister Rigger, Sir, and be the only one who gets to call you that?”
I stifled a laugh and scrubbed a hand over my mouth. Cheeky brat was ready to stake a claim in front of the other boys.
Nathan chuckled and inclined his head. “I’m fine with that. It’s settled.”
Jordan looked back at us with a beaming smile and gave two thumbs up.
I’d be a shit Daddy if I didn’t encourage that gutsy behavior, so I obviously gave him two thumbs up in approval.
Later tonight when I had railed my husband good and proper, I’d have notes about his introduction.
He’d spoken about safety, of course, as he always stressed, and he’d spoken about his background.
And not once in that speech—which was partly meant to reassure the members that he knew what he was doing—had he mentioned that his ropework had been featured in magazines and that communities from all over the country wanted him at their events.
He’d given demos at the biggest kink conventions.
I knew he wasn’t the type to brag, but come on. Nate wasn’t merely a bondage enthusiast; he had studied techniques and history and anatomy and rope for over fifteen years. He would have a PhD in ropework, if such a thing existed.
Seasoned kinksters who were into bondage knew his reputation, but these newbs didn’t.
“So, to recap,” he said. “What’s the first thing you grab when you enter the dojo if you’re gonna have a rope session with someone?”
Several hands went into the air.
“Leo, was it?”
“Yes, Sir. Safety shears.”
“Correct,” Nate replied. “And how quickly can a nerve injury set in? Jordan.”
“In mere seconds, at the worst,” Jordan said. “Also, at the worst, it can be permanent.”
“That’s right.” Nate picked up a bundle of rope from his table.
“Never hesitate to sever the rope. It’s more than nerve damage too.
Cutting off circulation can, in worst-case scenarios, create blood clots.
” He paused. “Now, let’s talk rope. If you continue on your bondage journey, you’ll develop your own preferences sooner or later.
I, personally, love jute. Nattie, whom you’ll meet eventually, is the queen of nylon—a material I rarely want to touch with a ten-foot pole.
But eight times out of ten, when we host tutorials and sessions in here, we will use this six-millimeter hemp. ”
I tuned out as I watched him toss that bundle of rope between his hands while he spoke.
And it made me think about Saturday. The masquerade ball.
An evening that’d always been perfect for Predators to find their prey.
Maybe we were in nice clothes instead of sturdy ones.
Maybe we were in a club instead of a forest. But when the lights were low, anticipation buzzed in the air, and everyone was hiding behind a mask, it was all the same. It was a fancy takedown.
The event was popular every year, with upward of 150 members joining. Each door leading to a playroom had to remain open, because it was the one night of the year for voyeurs.
Nathan and I had never participated, of course. Not the way we should have, because I had been held back by my own bullshit. But this year…
It was also one of the few events we had to pay extra to attend, given the cost to put it all together. Which had already started. The organizers were downstairs right now, finalizing shit before volunteers showed up tomorrow to help with setup.
A special night at Mclean House, for sure.
It should be special for us too. With some extra planning, Nate and I could probably make something happen. We could come out here tomorrow, just the two of us. I’d need an hour or so, and I had to talk to a few of my friends who’d be here. Afterward, we could pick up dinner on the way home.
I rubbed James’s thigh, shifting my hand a little higher, and hoped we could incorporate Nate’s love for bondage on Saturday.
I wanted us to prey on our enticing neighbors.
Maybe throw them off a little bit. Maybe scare them.
Within reason. And maybe scare was the wrong word.
I wanted them—mainly James—uncomfortable.
Unsettled. Not about us, but about what he could expect.
He shifted in his seat next to me, not appearing very comfortable now either.
I withheld my smirk and eased my hand over his cock, to which he sucked in a breath and tensed up.
There we go.
Now I knew what was gonna be on his mind tomorrow when we started a new project in Georgetown.
I’d noticed he watched me more when we arrived at a new worksite, because that was when I yelled at my crew at the slightest screw-up.
Couldn’t help it. Our job could get dangerous real quick, and I had zero tolerance for incompetence.
If you wanted to work in scaffolding, you better tighten the fuck up and know your shit.
James let out an unsteady breath as I applied pressure.
Since Nathan was just showing basic knots used in Shibari, I didn’t feel like I had to pay attention to the demo right now. Instead, I leaned over and spoke for only James to hear.
“Do you and Jordan have everything you need for Saturday?”
He swallowed and side-eyed me. “Um, yeah. I guess.”
“We’re spending the night out here,” I told him.