Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“He can’t!” Ivy spluttered. “He walloped my butt so hard last time. I’m good for a decade, thank you very much.”
I chuckled.
A couple minutes later, we wrapped up the call, and I promised she’d see us at the munch this weekend.
“What a horrible question,” Colt muttered, not taking his gaze off the paper.
“What if you had to choose?” I had a bite of toast.
“I don’t. Already got laid today, and now this.” He held up his coffee mug before taking a sip.
I shook my head in amusement. “But if you had to.”
“If I have to choose, I’ll have both. End of discussion.”
“Maybe you’ll only get coffee tomorrow,” I lied.
“That would’ve been believable if I weren’t engaged to a cock slut.” He winked at me, then returned his attention to the paper.
I rolled my eyes.
Even after eight years together, his arrogance hadn’t faded one bit. For a minute, I’d thought it would simmer down slightly when he semi-retired from the Air Force, which he did last year. Joke was on me. He was still active in the Reserve, and the Air Force loved to sic Colt on newer recruits for training missions. Colt simply held too many records for him to stop being a cocky prick every now and then.
The only time he became apprehensive was when we discussed playing with someone. For kink events and nonsexual arrangements, there was no issue for either of us. Our fetishes went beyond the sexual, and it scratched a nice itch just to play with Ivy or Tommy, who was a nonsexual Little.
It wasn’t perfect, though. It was far from perfect. And it was the most noticeable when we came home after events. Something was missing. Nothing we wanted to risk our relationship for, but it was there, something we wanted outside of events and temporary solutions. It was a compromise that stung to make, and in my opinion, Colt fought it too hard.
“Did you check that guy’s profile that I told you about?” I wondered.
“Nope.”
“Colt…”
He put away his paper and sighed. “Why are we still on this, darlin’? The last three attempts were colossal mistakes.”
To put it mildly. Two of the men had tried to come between Colt and me, failing miserably, and the third had…lacked something. Our kinks had lined up, and the play had been decent; we’d even invited him to our home. But the chemistry hadn’t been there, and we’d lost motivation and barely there desire to take things further.
Now it’d been over a year since we’d done anything remotely sexual with a submissive.
“Are you not happy?” Colt asked, shifting in his seat. He was trying to hide how much he hated asking that question. It wasn’t the first time.
“Nothing’s changed, baby. You’re the love of my life, and you’re my priority—always.” I reached over the table and squeezed his hand. “But we can’t shut the door on all guys because of how three of them were.” I paused. “What if we find that third and can finally have it all? You miss it. I miss it. You know the saying, and what we used to keep in mind—we need the exception that proves the rule.” There had to be someone out there for us.
He blew out a heavy breath and scrubbed at his face. “Tell me about the kid again.”
“He’s not a kid.”
Colt shot me a look. “He’s what, twenty-one? Twenty-two? He’s a kid.”
Oh, whatever. “You’ve seen him. His name is Kit Damien. You actually checked him out once.” I could tell he had no idea whom I was referring to. “He looks like a brat but acts like…” A wallflower. There was something going on with this boy. “He’s always dressed the same at munches. White dress shirt, black pants. He’s very shy and usually sits with Cam.”
I’d asked a couple of our friends about the boy, without much result. It was difficult to get to know someone when they never attended events, which this boy hadn’t in a very long time.
Colt squinted. “It rings a bell. He the kid who was in the car accident and lost his folks?”
“Yes.” If I’d known Colt was aware, I would’ve started with that. “Truth be told, the reason I can’t really let him go is because he and his online profile are night and day, and he hasn’t updated his profile since before he lost his parents. I think—I think he’s lost.” I went on to tell Colt about the cheekiness and sharp wit that bled through Kit’s writings online, and he was obviously very intelligent. I’d scrolled through old threads to see his biting comebacks to idiots, well-formulated responses with an undertone of sarcasm, and brilliant analogies that had both made me laugh and made me think. “And then I see him at munches, and he’s trying to blend in with the furniture.”