Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“I’m happy you two could join us today. We’re a very informal bunch, and we love meeting new people. We’ve got food coming, and you can just hang around, talk to anyone. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Paxton nods. “We appreciate that.”
“Can I ask what kinks you’re both into and I can point you in that direction?”
I blink. “Kinks?”
“Usually how these things go is that niches within the community sit at the same table so they can meet people who are into the same things.”
“Oh, right.” I nod like I know what’s going on.
“We’re pretty open to whatever the lifestyle offers,” Paxton says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“No pain though,” I add on.
Woody nods. “I get it. Let me introduce you to Natalie. She’s into a lot of different things, and I’m sure she can be a big help to the both of you.”
“Okay, thanks. I met her earlier.”
Paxton raises a brow at me. “Lead the way,” he says, returning his attention back to Woody.
I hesitate for a moment because I’m slightly jealous of having Paxton anywhere near Natalie. But then I remember he’s just my friend, nothing more.
This is all so new to me, and I can’t believe I’m here. I hug my notebook closer to my chest as Woody drags us over to a table with Natalie and a few other people.
Time to pretend I know what I’m doing.
Good luck with that.
Chapter Six
Paxton
If this motherfucker stares at Hartford one more time, I might have to deck him right here and now. I haven’t punched anyone that wasn’t one of my brothers since high school, but I can’t handle the way this man’s eyes linger on Hartford’s legs.
It’s the fishnet stockings.
I have to admit when I arrived to pick up Hartford today, and she opened her front door, I had to pick my jaw off the floor.
I’ve never seen her in fishnets and a short plaid skirt that makes her look like a naughty version of a schoolgirl.
Almost gave me a woody. Ha. I would never have told this joke if not for a man named Woody leading me to a group of people at a picnic table right this very moment.
He introduces us, and we smile and say our hellos. Before he can introduce us to the last man at the table, I smile and say, “Rigsby Collins?”
“Oh, you two know each other?” Woody asks me.
“I’ve seen him play a few times at a coffee shop a friend of mine owns. Haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet.” I hold out my hand, and Rigsby stands and gives it a firm shake.
“A true fan,” he says with an amused smile. “Not too many of you around.”
I let out a low chuckle. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re a talented musician. I love your songs.”
Hartford shakes his hand next. “Hi, Mr. Collins. It’s an honor to meet you. I love your song, ‘Down By The Bayou.’”
“Thank you,” the older man says. Rigsby Collins exudes a blues singer vibe with weathered lines etched into his face and a lifetime of soul radiating from his pores. This man has definitely lived a life, and he’s the last person I’d ever expect to see at a community munch. Or maybe he’s the exact type of man who’d be here.
I have to admit, most everyone here isn’t what I expected.
Rigsby glances at Hartford, taking in her outfit. “You two must be into age play.” He winks as he tips his fedora at us. Yes, the man has a style all his own, complete with a fedora.
“I read a few things about that. Is that like Daddy stuff?” Hartford sounds so innocent, and I try to imagine her calling me Daddy.
I honestly think it would be too awkward if she ever tried.
“Doesn’t always have to be about that. Paxton could be the grumpy professor and you the naughty student,” Natalie says with a wink to Hartford. “I love playing a bratty student.”
I picture Hartford leaned over a desk, and me spanking her plump ass with a ruler. Her soft brown eyes glazing over with desire as I punish her for being a brat during class.
Fuck, now I’m getting a hard-on right here at this munch.
“Why don’t we get food?” I choke out.
Hartford nods. “Okay, sure.” She glances at the group. “It was so great meeting all of you.”
They all say their goodbyes, and we walk toward the food buffet.
“Are you okay?” Hartford asks while we snag a couple of plates.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Your eyes went someplace else for a minute there. What were you thinking about?”
I can’t lie to this woman. But can I tell her what I was thinking about? Doesn’t hurt to try. “I was thinking about what they were saying.”
“About me as a naughty schoolgirl?” She plops a bread roll onto her paper plate.