by Cara Dee
I wait to speak while Nicholas and Kayla get up to leave; she looks like she wants to say something to Brayden and Evangeline—having probably heard me earlier about the munches—but Nick shakes his head no.
Once we're alone, I hand over my contact information to Brayden. I make it clear that they have to call me if they experience their moods dropping or anything like that. It's not optional. It's easier to release them, though, since they're two. They will be each other's support, and that certainly helps.
A few minutes later, we're all standing in the pretty empty lobby of the club and I'm helping Evangeline with her trench coat. Tonight's main event has just started, so this is hardly a time to leave. But these two do look like they could use some time alone to share their thoughts about our scene and to simply be together.
"Sir?" Evangeline's big, brown eyes peer up at me. "What about you? We haven't given you any pleasure."
My mouth quirks up and I touch her cheek. "On the contrary, kitten." I may not have gotten a release, but I will. At some point. For our scene, I didn’t care. I suppose I was too wrapped up in wanting them to get a proper introduction to my lifestyle. "I enjoyed myself very much." I give Brayden a glance because he's just as included. "If we scene together again, expect me to crank it up." I smirk as two sets of cheeks flame with heat.
"You—you're willing to do another scene with us?" Brayden asks hesitantly.
"Of course." There's no denying that. "But if we do, we will sit down and talk beforehand—about limits and so on." The thought of maybe having them in a bed where they're both restrained…or perhaps strapping Brayden to a sawhorse…or maybe fucking Evangeline into oblivion in a swing…fuck.
Too many possibilities.
Chapter 4
"You owe me, my man." Kevin walks up to the bar in the Cave and sits down on a stool. "I'm all sweaty and drenched in beer."
I chuckle as I prepare a Jack and Coke for one of the guests. Switch in all its entirety is dark and foggy, subs and Doms running around playing Hide & Seek, so it's not easy to see what I'm doing. "Tell your wife to go easy on you tonight. Or…maybe extra hard?" Kevin's wife is one scary Mistress. Sadist, hard-core, and unforgiving. "But you're right." I set the drink down in front of the Dom who ordered it and return to Kevin. "I do owe you. Thanks for covering for me."
One naked sub runs into the Cave, quickly finding a hiding spot in one of the hollow foam blocks, and Kevin and I watch in amusement as her Dom—or Daddy Dom, actually—is hot on her tail. John, I note, when I squint my eyes to see in the dark. That means the subbie's Gabriella, his Little. Also Nicholas and Kayla's friends.
The fog the DMs keep releasing makes it near impossible to recognize faces unless you're close enough.
"I'm surprised you're not playing tonight." Kevin turns in his seat to face me again. "There's always a line of subs around you, so it can't be that you haven't found anyone."
"Liam's daughter is sick. I'm covering for him," I answer, but my focus is on a sub who might be skirting the rules soon. Because she's standing near a scening stall, fiddling with the curtain. Considering. Looking around. And when she lifts the curtain to slip inside, I let out a sharp whistle to get her attention. Oh, I get it, all right. Caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Folding my arms over my chest, I stare her down as she dutifully walks over. "You know the stalls are off-limits."
"Yes, Sir. This one is sorry, Sir." She gulps, her eyes flicking around, presumably to see if her Dom is near. "May this one go now?"
Speaking about herself in the third person is a sure giveaway to the fact that she's probably a slave.
"What's your color, slave?"
"Oh, green." She nods furiously, and I give her body a once-over. She's only wearing a thong and her collar. Flushed cheeks, eyes wide with excitement, constricted nipples, and thighs pressed together for friction. Fair enough.
I snicker and quickly jot down two lines on a notepad. Next I tear off the top sheet and fold it together. "I want you to give this to your Master." I tuck it into her white glow-in-the-dark wristband. "Off you go."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." She runs.
Kevin and I share a laugh and then someone orders a beer, so I get to it.
"What did you write on the note?" he asks.
"That she tried to hide in one of the stalls." I slide the beer over the bar to the patron, as always checking for wristbands, but this man isn't wearing any. "That’s seven dollars, sir."
"What if I know the owner?" The man lifts his head and smirks.
I'll be damned. "Rio!" I laugh in disbelief and shake his hand. "When the hell did you get back?" This guy is always in some remote corner of the world. Doctors Without Borders—an honorable man for sure. "Damn, it's good to see ya, buddy."
"You too." He grins and takes a sip of his draft. "It's good to be home." When he pulls out his wallet, I wave it off. "Cheers, mate." A geographical cocktail, that’s what he is—with looks to match. With a half-Brazilian mother, an Australian father, and one grandparent who is Irish, he's inherited a bit of everything. Black hair, alabaster skin, striking green eyes, and his own little accent. It's mostly American since he actually grew up in the States, but there are definitely a few quirks. "I just got back yesterday." He answers my previous question. "For good."
My eyebrows rise. "For good?"
As far as I knew, those two words didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Unless it's saying that he'll be a vagabond for good. He used to work at a private hospital here. Then his fiancée died in a car accident five years ago, he left it all behind and joined Doctors Without Borders. I don’t think he's mourning her, but there's been a definite change in his behavior. A bit more subdued. Quiet. Detached. Maybe he can return to kink now, too. He's been absent for too long.
He shrugs and eyes a laughing sub being chased by his Domme. "I'm getting old." His gaze travels back to mine. "My last stint made me miss home."
I scoff. "Old. You're what, thirty-five, thirty-six?"
He smirks and tips his glass at me. "Cheers—but it's forty in a couple months."
Eh. Still not fucking old. Christ, people are too obsessed with numbers these days. If my mother's not complaining I haven't settled down yet, it's my sister-in-law who wants cousins for my niece. It's like every time I see them, they remind me I'm thirty-four. As if I've forgotten.
"So, you're going to look for a job here, then?" I assume. Despite being a trust-fund baby, he's a hard worker.
"I'm in no rush, but…yeah, eventually." He gives the club an appreciative glance. "Nick's really done well with this place. I've missed it." He points to a few stalls. "Good idea—this expansion."
No arguments from me, and we keep talking a little about this and that; I also introduce him to Kevin, who started working here a right after Rio took off for…Cambodia, I think.
We fill Rio in on what's new, mainly Nicholas meeting Kayla, and I chuckle my way through the story of how they met. Nick told me earlier this evening that they're flying up to Oregon this Christmas to see Kayla's family, which will be the first time since his ex's sister's wedding when he came with one woman and left with Kayla.
"Sounds like drama to me." Rio shakes his head in amusement. "Is he around? I couldn’t find him earlier."
"He's playing." I jerk my chin toward the Club.
At this point, several subs have been found by their Doms, and the laughter of those who are running mixes with the sound of owners staking claim. Some scream out in pleasure as they get fucked publicly, some beg for mercy, some plead for more.
Chapter 5
The day after, I make my way toward my big brother's house in Sausalito and park outside, seeing all the cars I expected to see. My younger brothers—Ted and Seth—are here, as are my parents. An unconventional family. Only our immediate family is invited because my siblings hate the others.
Walking up the path littered with Abby's outdoor toys, I steel myself for another dinner with the family. God knows I love them, but sometimes
I don’t know how I put up with their shit. I'm talking about my conservative brothers, not my parents. Mom and Dad are the opposite. Here at my brother's place, we get white picket fences, the suburban feel, and the all-American dream sprinkled with a few extra zeroes in the bank account. All my brothers are the same.
Greg followed in Dad's footsteps first and became a lawyer. Only, instead of having half a load of pro bono cases and working for the environment like our father, Greg prefers Corporate America.
When Dad retired early and left the firm his own father started, Greg changed things around. Seth joined a few years ago. Cooper Law II is all about billable hours now, and I know it's only a matter of time before Ted makes partner too and turns that II into III. Three money-hungry Coopers owning a law firm.
I ring the doorbell, and my seven-year-old niece rips the door open, a gap-toothed grin on her face. "Uncle Mark!"
I chuckle and ruffle her hair. "Hey, pumpkin. Pretty sure you're not allowed to open the door by yourself." And as the words leave my mouth, I hear Tess calling Abby's name from inside. I grin and cock a brow, eager to get out of the cold, harsh winds. "Uh-oh. Sounds like Abby's in trouble." She's fucking cute, this one. Had Alexa and I been good together, maybe we would've been parents now, too.
"You come save me." She giggles and pulls me into the hallway. "My new friend also saves me from Mommy lots and lots." Ah, that means she's got a new babysitter. Again. Greg rarely approves of the people watching Abby after school, so he fires them. It's up to Tess to find a new sitter. Ideally for Greg, Tess would stay home with Abby, but she doesn’t want to give up her job. "She's here for dinner, 'cause Daddy wans'ta talk to her a bit more."
"I see." My brother—much like me, I suppose—needs to be in total control. Only, he's obnoxious about it. Even Tess rolls her eyes when he gets going, both affectionate and annoyed. She gets him, loves him, which makes Greg a lucky bastard. Removing my jacket and shoes, I follow Abby toward the noise; as always, there's a choice to make. In the kitchen I will find my mother, Tess, and probably Ted's fiancée. In the living room I will find Dad, Greg, Ted, and Seth. It's a no-brainer. "Kitchen, pumpkin."
"I know," she replies frankly. "You gotta meet my new friend. Her name is not easy to say."
I smile down at the little whirlwind and roll up the sleeves of my gray button-down.
We reach the kitchen, and it's a familiar sight. Mom and Tess by the stove, and Ted's fiancée—Jessica—pulling something from the fridge.
The scents permeating the air are enough to make any man's stomach growl.
"Darling!" Mom's the first one to spot me, and she gives me a bright smile as she walks over to me, her reddish-brown curls bouncing. While my brothers have inherited her Irish features, I look just like my dad. Darker hair, blue eyes, and a skin tone that doesn’t turn lobster red in the sun. Dutifully, I dip down so she can peck my cheek; then I return with a kiss to her forehead. "You're almost late, I'll have you know."
I wink. "Emphasis on almost."
"Abby, what have I told you about opening the door without asking us first?" Tess is busy fussing over my niece, but she gives me a quick smile in greeting.
Just as I'm about to ask what's for dinner, the fridge door closes, and I see that it's sure as hell not my brother's fiancée standing there. What in the…? Not another blonde with the perfect Stepford appearance. No, this one's a petite, curvy brunette. One I distinctly remember flogging last night. One I restrained while her boyfriend fucked her.
My eyes grow wide, and I note that hers don’t. She doesn’t look shocked one goddamn bit. There's guilt instead. Written all over her too-fucking-beautiful face. Which can only mean she somehow knew.
Knew what?
Knew I was coming. That I'm me. That the favorite uncle Abby always raves about is me.
"Oh, that’s right," Tess mutters with an apologetic smile. "You two have met." My eyebrows rise. Next she cups Mom's elbow and says, "Let's leave Mark and Evangeline for a moment. They need to catch up."
"Evangel…" Mom trails off, confused. "You know each other?" Her question goes unanswered as she disappears from the kitchen with Tess and Abby.
I tense up, despising being left in the dark, and shoot Evangeline a stare that's hard enough to make her fidget and shrink. No longer wearing fetish clothes in latex, but dressed modestly in black pants and a form-fitting soft pink cardigan. Submissive and lovely as ever. Apparently also dishonest. Hard limit of mine.
"Speak, Evangeline," I grit out quietly.
Her eyes well up rapidly. "I'm so sorry." Voice almost breaking, she takes a breath and bites down on her quivering lip. "I really am, Sir—um, Mark." My name on her lips sounds weird but not unwelcome. "I wish I, or we, had an excuse, but there isn't one. I was gonna tell you last night, but I chickened out."
I raise a brow, hands on my hips. "You were going to tell me what, exactly?" Anger continues to boil up inside me.
"That I knew who you were before…" Before last night, Sir. Before you flogged me. Before you restrained my legs and spread them for Brayden's cock.
My jaw ticks and I fight the urge to growl like some savage animal. The sounds of Abby's laughter and family members talking about whatever filters through, reminding me that this isn't the time or place for…for what? Shouting at Evangeline for omitting the truth? For taking her over my knees and turning her ass red? For having a sub at my brother's house?
All of the above.
"Tess," I say flatly, nodding once to myself, and look down for a moment. Evangeline must've heard of me through Tess. I've never made my lifestyle a secret because I have no reason to hide it.
My brothers find it degrading, whereas my parents find it fascinating. Tess stands close to them on that matter.
"Yeah. Tess, um, she recommended the club." Evangeline sounds closer now, so I look up and there she is. Right in front of me, looking vulnerable, remorseful, and guilt-ridden. "I accidentally let it slip one day that my boyfriend and I were looking for, ah…" A blush spreads over her cheeks. "Something different, something else—that’s more for us." I assume Tess and Evangeline know each other from before a simple babysitting gig, then. Though, at first glance, I have to wonder what they could possibly have in common. "We met at our book club." Book club. Got it. One might wonder how they go from discussing books to BDSM, though. But what the hell do I know? "And she told me about you—that you work at Switch, and that you're a Dom."
I find that hard to believe. "If you're telling me Tess sent you and Brayden to me, I'm not buying it." Tess can be casual and free-spirited, but not to the point where she'd send an acquaintance or whatever to be topped by her brother-in-law.
"Oh! No. No, no." She shakes her head. "Tess just recommended the club. She said that since you work there, it had to be good. A trustworthy place. So, Brayden and I went last night—as you know," she chuckles nervously and wrings her hands awkwardly. "But, I mean, we didn’t seek you out." I can tell that my even thinking that would cause Evangeline stress. There's a tremor of need in her voice. Need to be believed. "After we filled out the form—the one for first-timers?"
I nod in acknowledgment.
"Yeah, so, after that, we looked around for a bit and…" A small shrug and a scrunch of her nose. Cute. "We decided to try the St. Andrew's Cross." And look how that turned out. "That DM, Master Hill?" Simon. "He interrupted—paused the scene to get someone who could guide us through it properly." That someone turned out to be me. "When he came back, he mentioned a few things about what we were doing wrong, and then he said, 'Master Cooper will assist you. You'll refer to him as Sir.' Then he checked my bindings and left right before you entered." She swallows, her words coming slower, as if the urgency has left her. "There was barely any time for me to react." Her eyes turn beseeching, tugging at me uncomfortably. "He said Cooper—Tess's last name, your last name—and I nearly freaked."
Averting my gaze, brows knitting together, I do recall the almost panicked look in Evangeline's eyes wh
en I entered their stall.
"You came in right after," she adds quietly. "I didn’t know what to do, and…to be honest, I was selfish." Her shoulders slump. In defeat, perhaps. "I wanted this so badly—Brayden did, too."
Well, I appreciate her honesty. I just wish it'd come sooner. A lot sooner. With an absent nod from me, I acknowledge what she's said, and I don’t really know what to say in return. Again, this isn't the time or place. Plus, we all fuck up at times, right? The anger drains out of me, though I still detest dishonesty.
One glance at the timer above the stove tells me we only have another three minutes and thirty-four seconds before dinner is ready.
"I'm so, so sorry, Mark," she whispers. "What you gave us exceeded our wildest dreams, and then I just chickened out. I should've told you. I'm sorry—"
"Enough, Evangeline," I say with a tired chuckle. "I believe you." That’s the truth. And while I have a question or ten, I don’t want to ask them at my brother's house. "You can stop apologizing now." I reach out and squeeze her shoulder gently, lingering. The relief rolls off her, causing the wryness in my smile to vanish. More genuine. "You little troublemaker."
Her dark eyes brighten. "I want you to know that Brayden and I are willing to take your punishment. Anything to make you forgive us."
Oh, is that a fact? That amuses me for sure. It also intrigues me, lures me in, and turns my thoughts into something far less than proper.
I'm pretty fucking creative.
"You're very naïve, kitten—you know that?" I murmur and pull her close to my body. Her breathing hitches, eyes widening in wonder and excitement. A pinch of fear, too. Perfect. "So eager to throw yourself into the lion's den. Some would call that stupid."
She gulps.
I lean down and slide my nose along her jaw. "Do you even have the slightest idea how I punish my subs?" I whisper in her ear. My fingers curl around her wrists, tightening swiftly. Like cuffs. Some think that just because I'm a boisterous and carefree bartender, I'm one of the nicer Doms. Big mistake. "Remember when we talked about edgeplay last night?" Like she'd ever forget. A shallow breath, a quick nod—yeah, she remembers. "That’s my game, kitten." Fire play, erotic asphyxiation…intense scenes that last for days, humiliation, pushing limits fearlessly. "It's what I do. But you don’t like pain, do you?" Now I'm taunting her.
