Chapter 8 #3
I dipped down and kissed him quickly. “No swallowing for you. Which works out great for me, actually. I was planning on emptying myself in your tight little bottom anyway.”
He let out a needy sound and crawled up on my lap. “That sounds so hot.” He buried his face against my neck. “But I still wanna suck you lots and lots, okay? And I don’t have a problem with pre-come.”
I laughed silently and hugged him tightly.
“That’s good to know.” As I kissed his shoulder, I saw Nathan and James.
More than that, Nathan in charge of James.
They were kissing, teasingly, lips just brushing, Nate murmuring something, James nodding and acting greedy, trying to kiss Nate harder, but he wouldn’t have it.
He had a tight grip on James’s chin. “Look at James and Mister Rigger, Jordan.”
Jordan looked over his shoulder. “Oh gosh.” He turned back to me. “Mister Rigger is so gorgeous, Sir. And he’s more intimidating than you are.”
“Damn right, he is. I’m the nice guy.”
At that, he turned dubious. “Okay, Sadist. But seriously, I don’t feel switchy at all with him.”
I grinned faintly, not surprised for shit.
“You’re not gonna feel switchy with me either, sweetheart.”
He pursed his lips. “We’ll see.”
Yes. We would.
I felt much better about everything when we returned downstairs some twenty minutes later.
When Jordan had skipped off to the bathroom real quick, I’d filled Nathan in on Jordan’s limit, just so we were all on the same page.
Nate had been understandably irritated by whatever piece of shit had made Jordan feel bad.
The only thing missing for me was that I hadn’t gotten to hear James reading his text, but I planned on getting a taste of it soon enough. Right now, I was happy. Jordan was comfortable in his jammies—and a black tie—and James was uncomfortable in a pair of boxer briefs—and a black tie.
They had their masks too.
I adjusted my own as we reached the bottom step.
“We have to get ready for the waltz!” someone hollered, rushing by.
I hitched my brows at Nate. “What fucking waltz?”
“Did you read the information at all?” he chuckled.
“I skimmed it.” I’d read the important stuff.
“I read it’s a new feature,” Jordan announced. “Like, there’d been some complaints about how the ball wasn’t actually a ball, so they’ve added ball stuff.”
“You talk a lot about balls, little one,” I told him.
He grinned goofily.
Nate rubbed my arm. “Don’t worry, it’s only mandatory for the Game participants.”
Thank fuck. I couldn’t fucking waltz.
I bet it was Lucian who’d complained.
As we returned to the club area—nay, ballroom—I put on my mask again.
It sure looked like they were getting ready for something in there. The dance floor had cleared, and Reese was holding a microphone on the low stage. He was soon joined by Lucas and Kingsley.
Reese spotted me and shook his head in amusement. “Leave it to Ash to interpret black-tie very freely.”
Yeah, he said that into the microphone so that all heads turned my way. But fuck it. I wasn’t the one wearing a tie and underwear like James. Jordan had it easier because he hid behind Nathan. He was also giggling up a storm back there.
“Freely or literally?” Corey piped up. “Because I used to think the black-tie dress code meant you had to wear a black tie.”
“We can be geniuses together, little Cruz,” I said.
Corey beamed.
If they were doing individual contests for the masks, his green frog mask better bring it home.
“For the record, Reese,” I said loud enough, “you might wanna check your own info page. It clearly states black-tie optional. In other words, I’m going the extra mile for you.”
“Just go sit down,” he laughed. But he laughed in the way that also told me he was done with my obnoxious ass.
Nate did that sometimes.
I blew him a kiss before aiming for one of the few available spots in the seating area. The others continued with their Game fun, and I—
“Excuse me, Sir Ashhole.”
Well, damn. I came to a stop and faced Jordan. Talk about a blast from the past. I hadn’t been called that since tenth grade.
“You didn’t read the info page either,” he pointed out.
I scratched my forehead. “Rewind first, boy. What did you call me?”
He immediately started fidgeting, and if the club hadn’t glowed red from the spotlights, I was sure I would’ve seen a blush too.
“I-I think you heard me, Sir.” He tried to act confident.
“I did.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I just wanna see if you have the balls to repeat yourself.”
This was it. I was realizing that his assertiveness and occasional cocky attitude came from the switch in him, and it was also dawning on me what a winning lottery ticket he was.
Not only was I getting a submissive Little, but I was also getting a feisty young man who was used to being in control.
Including being the one who pushed buttons and tested limits.
He could test those limits all over me, and I’d serve him the consequences on a fucking platter.
He toed the floor and went for innocence. “Isn’t it more important that I’m cute?”
I chuckled through my nose.
Nate cleared his throat. “James and I will be back with drinks. Good luck, Jordan.”
“Heh.” Jordan rubbed the back of his neck.
I nodded for him to follow me, because I didn’t wanna lose those seats over there. The seating area was mostly chairs, but some low tables had couches instead, and I wanted to snag the last two.
“You haven’t safeworded, so I hope I haven’t crossed a line,” he said. “You know your safewords, right?”
I side-eyed him. “We went through them fifteen minutes ago.”
“Right. Yeah. Just checking.”
He was more than checking. He was struggling to let go.
“Allow me to just check too,” I said, gesturing for him to take the other couch while I sat down on the closest. “You’re a masochist, Jordan.
I’m a Sadist. You’ve been very clear on the fact that you get the best mental releases from pain.
Pain also fuels you, you’ve said. It makes you angry and fight back until there’s no fight left. ”
He nodded hesitantly. “I feel like you’re building up to something here.”
“You’re sharp.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my thighs, and I clasped my hands casually. “So I’ll ask again. What did you call me earlier?”
He bit his lip. “I have a better question—”
“No, you don’t.” I felt my jaw tick, and I stared at him.
“Gosh.” He shifted in his seat. “Like a cute noodle, I’m trying to wriggle myself out of this situation.”
“How’s that going for you?”
He tipped his hand in a silent so-so.
I waited him out.
He was stubborn, I could give him that.
Even better for me. “I like ’em feisty” would be engraved on my headstone.
“Is this where you go fetch floggers and shackles to put me in my place?” he asked.
“Why would I fetch a flogger? You’re not getting a reward.”
There it was, the yikes-face. He hid it quickly, though.
He tilted his head. “Why even bring up that I’m a maso? Wouldn’t that be a reward too, if you beat me?”
I leaned back and draped both my arms along the top cushions. “You’re not here to suffer tonight, whether you get off on it or not. You wanna play with Daddy for the first time and lose yourself in his control.”
He swallowed. Even with his mask on, I could see the uncertainties amassing. The question was if he could swallow his pride and retreat.
Fuck me, I’d missed this—and I’d never really had it in the first place. I’d gotten a weak taste of it here and there, just enough to make me work harder to deny my nature.
“We could do that, you know,” he reasoned. “If we just forgot this little hiccup ever happened. I’m ready to cuddle. Are you?”
I smirked faintly.
Nate and James were on their way over. I saw them in my periphery, but I didn’t break eye contact with Jordan yet. For this to blow over, I’d settle for nothing less than sweet redemption. I wanted him on his knees, begging me to forgive him.
It was me he was testing. He’d lose respect for me if he could walk all over me.
I wasn’t even gonna let him step on my toes.
“How’s it going over here?” Nathan asked.
I gave Jordan one more stare before I shifted my gaze to my husband. “What did you bring us?”
“A whiskey sour for you, and a vodka Sprite with a splash of blue curacao for little Jordan. James informed me it’s a favorite.”
Oh, perfect. “You’re the best, baby. I’ll take both. Jordan’s not thirsty at the moment.” I sat forward and reached for the drinks. “Thank you. Sprite’s a little too sweet for me, but I’ll wash it down.” Later. Not now. It could sit on the table for a while and taunt Jordan.
“But Daddy, I—”
“You can shut the fuck up,” I told him. “You’ve had your fucking-around fun. We’ve reached the find-out portion of the night now.”
He smashed his mouth shut and pulled up his knees to hug them to his chest.
Nate pursed his lips, hiding his mirth. “That bad, huh?”
“Nah. He’s just a mouthy little shit.” I took a sip of my whiskey sour and nodded in approval. That was a good drink, which it always was when Gretchen bartended.
I patted the spot next to me so James could stop hesitating over which couch to pick.
“Well…in the spirit of finding out,” Nathan said, aiming for Jordan, “I think I’ll share a story with you, little one. It’s about a Sadist whose leash always seems so long—but in the blink of an eye, it’s so short that you can’t move.”
Sounded like a great story. I’d let them get cozy with that tale while I gave James some attention instead. I still wanted him to voice his desires out loud.
I leaned toward James’s drink and sniffed it. “What did you get?” It smelled like rum and Coke.
He shifted where he sat. “Rum and Coke, boss.”
Knew it.
“Is he being disobedient?” he asked quietly.
“He’s just testing me. All part of the fun.” I leaned in closer and kissed the spot below his ear. “You know what else is fun? When you get nervous around me.”
He chuckled awkwardly and took a gulp of his drink.