“I’m not sure. I thought maybe it might interest you. You know because . . .”
It finally dawned on her, what Cady was trying to insinuate. “You think I’m a submissive. I’m not a submissive.” She’d never have imagined Cady was either. She seemed so strong, so tough, like she’d never let anyone tell her what to do. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you don’t seem like you’d let, like you’d be . . . um . . . I don’t know how to put this . . .”
God, she was making a mess of this. And the last thing she wanted was to insult Cady and lose their budding friendship. But this was so out of left field it was taking her a while to catch up.
“I don’t seem submissive? I’m not. Not in everyday life. Hunter and I aren’t twenty-four-seven, although sometimes he acts that way. I’m submissive to Hunter during play. Because I choose to be. Outside of play, I’m not submissive to him in most things, however there are some rules that we live by.”
“Rules?”
“Yeah, like, rules about safety. If anything happens or I feel unsafe, I’m supposed to call him right away. Say, if I broke down while driving home, Hunter would want me to call him immediately so he’d know where I was and so he could help me. Just simple things that are kind of common sense, but for us they’re important. Hunter needs to know I’m safe, it’s a big thing for him. For both of us, actually.”
“So how does the submission thing work? If you don’t mind me asking.” She was curious, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and annoy Cady or make her think she was judging her.
Cady shrugged. “I brought it up, so nope, I don’t mind you asking. I’d been to a few clubs before I met Hunter. It never felt quite right, though. I was a cop. I was used to making tough decisions, to being in charge, and suddenly when I walked into a club with a Dom, I was supposed to give up control and let someone else be in charge? Be vulnerable? But what I’ve realized is that I couldn’t be submissive with just anyone. Only Hunter. With him, I can let go. I can just be. And the sex is off the charts.”
“So, you let him . . . ah, take charge when you’re at the club? Does he . . . what does he do to you?”
Cady let out a snort of laughter. “He doesn’t lock me in a cage for weeks on end and feed me rations of bread and water.”
“Of course not. I didn’t think that.” Not exactly that anyway.
“Hunter doesn’t do anything I don’t want him to. If you think about it, I’m actually the one in control of everything.”
She was?
“How?”
“Because I can always use my safeword. I can put a stop to everything. I have my limits, and Hunter respects them. Anything I don’t feel comfortable with is a hard limit. Anything I’m unsure about but think I could try is a soft limit. I’m in charge, although that’s not to say that, as my Dom, Hunter won’t push me within those limits. There have been many nights when all I’ve wanted is to come, and Hunter has made me work for it. The bastard.”
There was a fondness in her voice that Lacey didn’t quite understand. How could she feel so much affection towards him when he’d withheld an orgasm? That sounded kind of painful. Not that Lacey had really had an orgasm. Well, not one that wasn’t by her own hand.
“I thought you’d know a bit about this considering who your cousins are.”
“Who my cousins are?”
Cady’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh? Uh-oh, what? Are you trying to say that my cousins are Doms?” Shock filled her.
“Well, they’re certainly not submissives. Travis owns the biggest and most successful BDSM clubs in New York.”
She scowled. “That bastard. He never told me. None of them did. Are they all Doms?”
“I think so. I know for sure that Travis and Jace are, anyway, because I’ve heard Hunter talk about them.”
Okay, her mind was reeling from all this information. She scrambled for something sensible to say, but nothing came to mind.
“I just . . . wow.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have given you all this information at once.”
“It’s okay.” She thought everything out. It did make sense. For Travis, at least. She couldn’t quite imagine Jace as a Dom, but then she didn’t have a checklist of attributes for spotting one.
Could be quite handy to have one, though.
Might make her feel like less of an idiot.
“Why did you bring this up? I mean, why now?”