Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Moreover, I wanted to get to know Macklin. I couldn’t quite pinpoint him yet. The gorgeous sub with a playful streak had lasted about four hours in Florida, before he’d found out Walker was on his way. Then they’d gotten back together in a way that’d left their foundation shaky, so their behavior had altered plenty since then.
The only thing I knew for sure was that he was loyal to both Walker and Lane. He was protective of them too. Oh, and he definitely fucking knew how Lane and I had met before.
I’d been pretty certain up until Macklin had talked to me before the demo, and now I was 100% sure. Lane and I had met. Zero doubt. Because the way Macklin had changed the topic when I’d let my frustrations show…? Yeah, no. Lane had told Macklin. Any rational person would’ve responded to my outburst with something like, “What do you mean?” or “Wait, you’ve met prior to Florida?”
Why Lane had fed me horseshit in Florida was just another mystery for me to solve.
“As Master Lucian mentioned earlier, there’s no right or wrong in how you and your sub shape your high-protocol dynamic,” Walker started by saying. “Over the years, my boy and I have explored countless rituals and levels of intensity—some to see if they’d be somethin’ for us permanently, and some for just a weekend or two.”
By the mere sound of his warm voice, I felt tension leave my shoulders. Flexibility, he’d reminded me of the other day. A dynamic wasn’t set in stone. It was okay to test the waters and make changes along the way. Hell, it was only natural.
Perhaps the high-protocol Master in Walker was somewhat laid-back too. He didn’t strike me as ritualistic and square-shouldered as the other two. Besides, he stood there in jeans and a tee, and his feet had to be filthy as fuck by now. His dirty-blond hair wasn’t too neat. He’d run his fingers through the waves. A flogger was attached at his hip, and a tiny black towel stuck out from his back pocket. He wasn’t clean-shaven either.
“Hey, pet.” Walker wove his fingers into Macklin’s hair and tugged back, forcing his boy to look up at him. “Give the audience two versions of our speech restriction rule, one for events, one for vanilla life.”
Macklin kept his gaze upward and answered immediately. “Yes, Owner. When you activate our high-protocol, I’m only allowed to speak when asked a direct question by a Dom—unless you say otherwise—and when you give me an order, if necessary. In our everyday life, you will tell me beforehand what goes. For instance, to keep myself brief and polite.”
My first instinct was to claim I’d never put anyone on speech restrictions, but then I forced myself to see things from Lane’s perspective. If he might ever need something like that—and how he’d communicate that need when it struck. Would he simply go, “Hey, Master, can you tell me to shut up?” That wouldn’t be much of a command on my part, more like I was following his lead.
“That’s right.” Walker glanced at the audience next. “Just this morning, Macklin and I decided that we should aim to have lunch together every day during the workweek. We both have busy schedules, and it’ll do us good to be able to touch base in the middle of our day. And a subtle rule—for him to keep things brief and polite—can make all the difference. For example, if he runs across the street and brings up food to my office—and he doesn’t have a rule to follow…? That’s when I find him half an hour later swapping life stories with my assistant.”
I grinned.
“Macklin is a born caregiver, and he wants to make everybody happy,” Walker continued. “These rules help him stay on track, which ultimately gives him more peace—and me my lunch while it’s still warm.”
The audience chuckled, with some of them going a bit louder because they knew Macklin.
Walker wasn’t done. “Joking aside—while my boy has always been social and outgoing, he adopted a new level of that behavior years ago for my benefit. Thanks to him, I’m the guy with the super-charming husband, rather than just the guy who waltzes into a company and tells them what to do differently.”
All right, that was sweet. And I was sure that rumor would garner strength now that they were back together.
The more I listened to him talk about their structure—and the rules he made Macklin recite—no matter if they were from their past or the dynamic they were building up now, the more I understood. My perspective grew wider until it dawned on me that Walker and Macklin—and I was sure they weren’t alone—implemented rules to mend breaks and highlight strengths. Their high-protocol-isms that bled into their everyday life weren’t their core so much as their scaffolding or framework, helping them hold things together.