Well, maybe I was kind of really looking forward to the day we became parents.
Tate: Where was this coming from?
Lee had been on me since we got home. No complaints! I was just…curious.
After we’d eaten and showered, he turned off the news we’d barely watched anyway, and he steered me to the bedroom.
“Let me take care of you, Master,” I murmured, out of breath. He clearly needed a release.
Except, he shook his head, never stopped kissing me, and flattened me to the mattress with his body.
I moaned as he pressed our cocks together, and I raked my fingernails along his shoulder blades.
He hissed and breathed something against my neck.
“What?” I panted.
“I said…” He nipped at my earlobe. “I wanna have a family with you.”
All air left my lungs.
“Let’s have a kid.”
Oh my God.
“Now?” I croaked. Hope exploded within me.
“Let’s start researching our options,” he corrected. “Let’s contact a surrogacy agency. Let’s get started.”
My eyes welled up so fast, and I lost control of my emotions. “Okay. Okay.”
“Yeah?” He inched up to look me in the eye.
I nodded and cupped his cheeks. “I want nothing more, Lee.”
He smiled and kissed me softly. “Good.”
Holy shit. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. He better brace himself because I was going to attack. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t describe the sheer fucking excitement and joy.
FRIDAY
Greer | Archie | Corey | Sloan
Greer Finlay
“This is your ten-minute notice, Dominus!” Corey yelled over the sound of the drill.
“Thank you!” I turned off the tool and brushed sawdust from the hole I’d drilled in the door. Then I made quick work of attaching the new metal numbers Tate had bought.
I couldn’t fucking believe how far we’d come this week. The second floor would actually be done by tomorrow. All the walls had been repainted, now the doors too. A couple walls had been knocked down. A couple had gone up. New baseboards, new spotlights. New gleaming numbers on the doors. Two viewing windows had been polished and cleaned, same with the card readers next to each playroom. Tate and Ivy were in full swing rehanging black-and-white erotic art on the wall along the entire hallway. Only the art on the first floor had perished in the fire.
Sloan and Corey had thought it was a good idea that I modeled for some of the new photos for downstairs.
I had half a mind to cancel. On the other hand, only thing left to do up here was assemble the last of the furniture and move some shit around. We had people working in all twelve playrooms.
“Coming through,” Kit grunted. He pushed a heavy roll of linoleum flooring up the stairs, on his way to the new interrogation room.
“Do you need a hand, buddy?” I asked, moving my toolbox to the next door.
“No, I’m strong. I got it, Sir.” He started panting but didn’t let up. He shoved the linoleum all the way down to Room 7.
I smirked to myself and continued my task.
This was so wrong.
I grimaced and saw my annoyed discomfort reflected in Colt’s eyes.
“How the fuck did we agree to this?” I asked.
He made a face too, as a highly amused Lucas dragged a razor down Colt’s chest. “I was played,” he muttered. “Luke sprung it on me when Kit was losin’ his verbal skills on my cock.”
I let out a laugh, the sound echoing in the dressing room.
Then I stopped laughing because I hadn’t even gotten an orgasm out of the deal. Sloan and Corey had just kissed me, murmured what a hot and sexy man I was, and…yeah, I’d gotten played too. Fuck. So that was why I had Ivy shaving my chest right now.
“I’ll have you know chest hair is hot as shit,” I stated.
Ivy giggled and rinsed the razor under the tap. “I know, but we want more of a spotlight on the rope, Sir.”
Right. The theme of the photo of Colt and me would be rope bondage. Nathan and Lucas were going to tie some harness or whatever.
I had nothing whatsoever against bondage; hell, I loved it. But the decorative kinds like Kinbaku and Shibari required patience I’d rather place elsewhere. Like mind games. Nathan and Luke could stand for fucking hours and create patterns based on the softness of a sub’s flesh, where the rope would leave marks, how the marks would look right there, what kind of rope to use, how rough the fibers would be, what color matched the sub’s skin tone or underwear, decide whether it was sensual bondage or painful, which muscles to manipulate, how to cinch the rope—and on it went.
I’d seen a demo once where Nathan and his boyfriend showcased suspension bondage with a fair number of risks involved, mainly nerve damage. Nathan had studied anatomy and all kinds of shit to know exactly where to place the rope. And even though we were both kinksters, both involved in the same community, our core fetishes were night and day. He played with a sub’s body the way I played with a sub’s mind. Something that took years of practice. The buttons I pushed caused emotional reactions. His were pressure points.