Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
He hummed contentedly. “Yup. Made up my mind in the sauna.”
I grinned. “I love being this close to you. You give me energy.”
He smiled up at me. “Good. No more stressing, okay? Beginnings are meant to be savored, not fretted over.”
I smirked a little. “I thought you said you knew me.”
He found me funny, and that worked for me. “Let’s go, my fretting comedian. We have a punk rock show to attend.”
The first opening act to a band called Flogging Molly had been atrocious.
Now, while we waited for Noa’s band to take to the stage, a DJ was blasting the aforementioned Flogging Molly across the club.
I bet Molly was a happy woman.
I took a swig of my beer and didn’t even try to listen in on Jack and Kingsley’s conversation. The music was way too loud, but at least they seemed to get along very well. The grins and chuckles were ominous. Tate thought so too, judging by the look of him.
We hadn’t been able to find a table; the establishment was filled to the brim. Perhaps two thousand or so people were packed in like sardines, possibly violating a code or two, so we just stood in the middle of the crowd and waited. Not in the middle, literally speaking—to the left, because I’d been warned about mosh pits.
If my sixteen-year-old self with a Sex Pistols tee could see me now…
I drank away the chagrin.
After a while, Kingsley excused himself to go help Noa, and Jack slipped his hand into mine and leaned in to say something to Tate. Whatever it was, it made him laugh pretty hard.
I smiled at the sight.
A rush of happiness flowed through me as I acknowledged that this was exactly what I’d hoped to find. A group of people to have fun with, friends who were as different as they were similar, a tight-knit community that looked out for one another.
BDSM could truly bring all kinds of people together. Just in our group here tonight, we had a corporate lawyer in KC, Lucian worked in finance if I wasn’t mistaken, Kingsley, a former Navy engineer—or something to that effect—who repaired elevators and could spend hours discussing hydraulics and the troubleshooting of electrical systems that made up the infrastructure of airports… Tate, a special needs teacher. Cameron was a data analyst, I was fairly sure. We came from all walks of life, and they’d brought me into their fold without a second thought.
Jack would be our next member. He was moving back home.
Movement on the dark stage caught my eye, and I looked up to see the band members emerge with their instruments. Noa had dressed down for the occasion, showing off his lovely upper body and a pair of jeans. He was one of the many Mclean kinksters with an affinity for tattoos.
KC appeared next to me, leaning heavily on his cane and looking every bit the proud Daddy he was. Cameron and Lucian followed, and the latter was endearingly protective of KC when he used his cane rather than his wheelchair. It was possible I’d spent a lot of time observing their dynamic. It fascinated me and gave me hope. Loving relationships really could look a million different ways.
Maybe Jack was right. Maybe we could have everything.
Maybe I could step out of the shadow of denial and admit that I’d already grown attached to Jack.
As the music faded and everyone turned to the stage, I allowed myself to be greedy and steal Jack away. I positioned him in front of me, wrapped my arms around his chest—made sure I didn’t spill my beer—and I pressed my lips to the top of his head. It was my turn to have him. Tate could bond with his new friend later.
Jack tilted his head and grinned back at me, and I was quick to kiss him.
Mine.
Mine, mine, mine.
Fuck, that felt good. So goddamn amazing. It was a brief moment, a stolen minute in a bubble where only the two of us existed—while someone from the crew introduced the band—but it was enough to solidify something within me.
I left a trail of kisses to his ear. “If you plan on owning me one day, I plan on calling you mine.”
I caught the surprise in his eyes, followed by the most gorgeous smile.
Unfortunately, our bubble burst when the singer of Noa’s band hollered into the mic in an Irish accent. Something, something, it wasn’t every day you got to open for Flogging Molly. The audience went berserk.
Hugging Jack to me, I noticed that Noa was the youngest band member by decades. The other three—scratch that, a fourth came out, holding an Irish whistle—were in their forties.
“…but enough about Flogging Molly, eh?” the singer yelled. He didn’t have to yell. Two spotlights flashed across the stage, though the light was dimmed low. “We got a wee show for ya—and a wee wolf. If you’ve caught any of our gigs before, you know Noa. Take it away, lad!”