Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

“There’s a part of that doctor test meant to keep the kinky folks out?” He faked shock before taking a sip of his water. “And you’re plenty cute enough.”

“Thank you. I don’t mean to sound uptight or judgmental. It’s more that I feel like my time for exploring any Daddy kink might have expired. I was too busy with school and training, and then a failed relationship, during the time most people experiment. I keep expecting to outgrow those particular desires. Get new ones.”

Adam’s shoulders rolled in another of his maddening shrugs. “And yet, you didn’t grow out of it. Kink isn’t a phase. It’s a part of someone. Like how you like vegetables, and how you get nervous so easily, or how I like to hunt. Enjoying being a Daddy is an important part of my sex life.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t disagree with all that wisdom.

“So if it’s a part of you, why would it disappear simply because you got a degree and a mortgage?”

He had a point. Such a good one that I took a minute to serve us both some of the food, trying to figure out how to counter that.

“But it’s embarrassing,” I whispered at last, the dismissive tone of my former lover continuing to drown out Adam’s far kinder words. We’re supposed to be grownups now, Quinn.

“Being submissive is embarrassing?” Adam cocked his head. His voice was carefully neutral, as if he had to make an effort to not get angry. “Liking kink is something to be ashamed of? Is that really what you think?”

“No, of course not,” I protested. “I don’t judge others—”

“But you sure do judge yourself.” He whistled low. “If it’s okay for other consenting adults, why should they get to have all the fun?”

“Good point.” Again, I certainly couldn’t argue with his logic. “Maybe I have trouble letting myself have fun.”

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckled. “But drunk-you sure sounded like you wanted more spontaneous fun in your life.”

“I do.” I couldn’t help my sigh. If I could only get out of my own way, I could have this opportunity he was offering. And Adam was right. I did judge myself far more harshly than I judged others.

“I’m not suggesting you make porn. Or even come down to leather night if that’s not your thing.” He blew on a forkful of macaroni, and the purse of his lips made all my blood rush south. The conversation might be all kinds of uncomfortable, but my body was still very much into him. “But what you do in the privacy of your own bedroom shouldn’t make you feel bad or ashamed. And talking about those interests should feel freeing, not scary.”

“It is. I’ve never talked about much of this aloud before. The few times I tried…didn’t go well.” I gave a shaky laugh. Adam was damn wise, but still, my fingers were shaking around my fork. “I get what you’re saying, but having you know all my dirty secrets still feels rather terrifying.”

“I’m a bartender. I deal in dirty secrets. Trust me that yours doesn’t even begin to qualify. I have gossip on half the town. But I never share. Or judge.”

“You just listen.” I exhaled slowly, trying to convince my lungs that we weren’t about to run for our lives. “You’re really good at listening.”

“Well, with you, I’d like to do more than listen.” Reaching across the table, he rubbed the back of my hand. “I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I do want you, Quinn. Being a Daddy for you would be hot as hell.”

“That’s honestly what I find the most surprising.” My cheeks went solar-flare hot at the implication that he found my kinks arousing. “I’m not sure why you’d want to hook up with me. You’ve seen me at my worst. And don’t tell me it’s a shortage of partners. I’m sure there are plenty of guys willing to look past your age.”

“First, you clearly haven’t browsed many of the hookup apps around here, especially in the off-season. It can be slim pickings. And maybe I’m tired of the guys who can’t even order a beer. Young is fun and all, but it’s also exhausting. A more experienced boy is far from a turn-off.”

“Twenty-year-olds do bring a lot of drama.” I had to agree. I moved some cucumber around my plate. My stomach wasn’t into the idea of eating, but I needed a distraction.

“They do. And I’m a bartender. It’s cute that you call a one-time drunk your worst. Gory and gross don’t faze me. A little puke is easily forgiven and forgotten. I’ve also seen you at your best, and that’s the sort of thing I can’t forget.”

“Oh?” This was surprising. I’d been aware of who he was prior to Monday, and certainly been attracted to him, but we’d never had a real conversation.