Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Kit eyed the mistletoe hanging in the kitchen doorway, then glanced back at Luke. He wasn’t our little clown at the moment. His mind was racing.
“I don’t know what you mean, Daddy.”
I cleared my throat, figuring I could take this one and then Luke could handle the rest. “We’ve had a mistletoe tradition out in Mclean the past few years—and there ain’t a whole lot to discuss. If you happen to run into a Top under the mistletoe, he’s allowed to be a nice Sadist to you.”
“Nice Sadist!” Kit laughed. “Ain’t no such thing, sugar.”
I smiled.
“You do have options, though,” Luke elaborated. “First of all, we’re talking about a few seconds. No one is taking their clothes off or racking up a collection of bruises in the doorway.”
Kit scrunched his nose and grinned a little. “See, I thought it was just a sweet thing between partners. Like, if you and I walk under the mistletoe at the same time, we kiss. But if I walk under there with Master Kingsley, nothing happens.”
Sweet, sweet, innocent mind. How I adored him.
“That’s one of the options.” Luke’s eyes flashed with mirth. “I, for one, don’t normally partake in the game. It’s totally up to you.”
That caused Kit to shift his gaze to me, and the question was written on his face.
“Of course I’m joinin’.” I hadn’t missed a year. “It’s my annual wrist exercise.” I flexed my hand as if I was ready to smack a nice little ass. Which was essentially what I’d done the previous mistletoe years. Three quick whacks got any party started.
Kit snickered. “I think you’ve gotten plenty of exercise on my butt too.”
“And that’s another option.” Luke cut in again. “If you join the game, you choose the body parts the Top can do something to, and some opt for the butt. But you can choose arms, thighs, nipples, hair, mouth—”
“Mouth!” Kit squeaked. “I don’t want to get smacked in the mouth!”
Christ, he was so innocent. Despite the tightness in my gut, because I sensed Luke was slowly getting closer to the topic he was aiming for, Kit’s expressions were like aloe on a sunburn.
“Mouths are usually for kissing.” There we go. Luke had gone there now. The door was open. “In short, you write down your limits on a note, and those limits apply to every Top who will be here. If kissing is okay, you can add mouth to the list.”
Even in the dim lighting from the TV and the Christmas tree, I saw the blush creeping forward on Kit’s face.
“No one’s gonna stick their tongue down your throat, baby,” I said. I didn’t want him to overthink this tradition. It was just a fun little game running in the background. “Tate, for instance, will write somethin’ like, just go for it, because he knows nobody will take anythin’ very far. It’s a smack here, a smooch there, and maybe a quick tug on his hair to piss him off. Cam, on the other hand—if he’s allowed to join—might write down ass and thighs. Tops will stay away from the rest of him, and we’ll give him a spank or two in passing. But I reckon most of the subs will write similarly to Tate.”
“Which is easier for all the Tops to remember,” Luke chuckled.
I grinned. That was true.
Kit snuck an arm around Luke’s neck and seemed to hesitate. “What happens when Tops meet each other in the doorway, then? Or two bottoms?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Laaaaame.” He grinned, but something was missing in his eyes. He was uncertain—maybe. Either way, it brought out my protectiveness in full force, because the last thing I wanted him to feel was uncertain. “It’s much funner when two Daddies kiss and stuff.”
Hmm. He’d said something to that effect before.
“There will probably be some of that too, sweetheart,” Luke assured. “You haven’t witnessed Reese and Colt drunk yet.”
I snorted under my breath and rolled the stress toy between my hands. I was changing my mind. It would’ve been comfortable to stick my head in the sand a few more days, but if Luke was insisting on discussing potential group play, we might as well cut the shit and speak bluntly. I couldn’t sit here and watch him slowly peel off the Band-Aid.
“It’s better we discuss who Kit wants to make kissy faces with.” To use his brat terminology. “You’ve been on and on about Greer and me, so how about you with others? Is that somethin’ you’re curious about? Or, you know, playin’ with others in general.” I cleared my throat and went a step further to eliminate his potential worry of giving the “wrong answer.” Because I knew Kit. “Wantin’ to explore with others is perfectly natural.”
“Absolutely,” Luke agreed. “Colt and I are a little curious about your thoughts on this—on group play and so on. We have a lot of that in our community.”