Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
He hmpf’d and accepted his drink, then promptly paid with a crumpled ten-dollar bill.
“I can start a tab if you want,” the bartender said over the music.
“Yeah, no thanks—I’m good.” The guy took a sip of his drink, and he wasn’t impressed by that either. “How difficult can it be to find a kink community that doesn’t suffocate you with rules? And while we’re at it—safe, sane, and consensual? One person’s sane is another’s fuckin’ bonkers.”
I chuckled. Maybe he had a point.
“Anyway.” He wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it to me. “I’m Reese.”
I shook his hand. “Lucas West.”
“Good to meet you, Lucas West,” he said. “You enjoy your night. If we get on the road now, I reckon my brother and I can make it back to DC and the sadomaso event in Logan before they stop lettin’ people in.”
Whoa, what? I perked up. “There’s an event for sadomasochists in DC tonight? I thought I looked all over.” DC could be a frustrating jungle, because I heard of so many places, but they were difficult to find if you didn’t know where to look.
Reese nodded with a dip of his chin. “First and third Saturday of every month at a gay club.”
Please take me with you! I wanted to shout.
“Would you mind giving me the name of the place?” I asked instead. The prospect of finding something so much closer to where I lived was almost too good to be true.
Reese quirked a faint smirk and gave me a brief once-over. “You into pain?”
Oh hell. I hoped he wasn’t eyeing me as a potential masochist—or Sadist, for that matter.
“I’m not a Sadist, nor a masochist,” I replied firmly. “It’s just been a while since I bottomed, and I prefer rough play. My hope is to make friends and maybe find play partners—but when push comes to shove, my core kink, I think, is Daddy/Little Boy. I haven’t explored much, to be honest.”
He nodded slowly, then finished his drink in one gulp. “Well, you’re welcome to join us if you want.”
Was he…
Did he think I was a sub?
Did he mean anything by that invitation, or was he just offering for me to tag along?
Oh, screw it. I wanted to make more friends. I needed that. I only knew three fellow kinksters, and two of them were moving to Boston soon. I was itching to be a part of a community.
“I’d love to,” I said. “I drove here, but I wouldn’t mind following you and your brother.”
It was interesting to me that Reese went to kink events with his brother. Unless it was another type of dynamic.
“Cool. I’ll just go drag River away from that scene over there.” He pointed toward a few stalls, and I immediately did a double take. No need to ask any questions about their relation, because that guy was a carbon copy of Reese. They were twins. “See you out front in five?” Reese asked.
I nodded dumbly. I needed to process what was happening. So I was going back to DC with two complete strangers, after I’d committed to being here and seeing what Baltimore had to offer.
All right, then.
Reese’s brother left an impression without saying a word to me. The briefest of introductions had been handled by Reese, and River had nodded once, eyed me quickly, then headed for their car.
I had the name and address of the club we were going to, and maybe that was a good thing. Being able to go there by myself, in the safety of my own vehicle, and not be locked down by a pair of twin brothers who screamed trouble.
For one, Reese’s scar. For two, Reese drove like a maniac. For three, River was sporting a black eye and a busted lip.
If that was the result of their pain-play, I was going to arrive at this club and immediately find new people to get to know.
The drive gave me roughly an hour to think things through, but I wasn’t too worried. I’d heard of the club before; I just had no idea they hosted BDSM crowds too. Either way, it was bound to be packed, so I was sure I could lose the twins if they struck me as unsafe.
Perhaps I wouldn’t have to lose the twins. Halfway to DC, they lost me. Reese drove way too fast, so that was that.
By the time I arrived in Logan—and found parking three blocks away—I was cutting it close to not being allowed in. Reese had said something about them closing the doors at eleven.
I blew out a breath and wiped my forehead, and I spotted the twins’ car near the club entrance. A black sedan with tinted windows in the back.
It was a nice car.
“Lucas West!”
Oh. I looked up and spotted Reese at the door.
He smirked and jerked his chin, signaling for me to step on it.