The Shepherd (The Game 6)

A small stack of coloring books sat on the coffee table. I was supposed to give them to Emma-Jo.

So much to do, so little time. But I was glad I had shit that kept me busy. Always be on the move, was the goal.

Next to the front door, I had my little kitchenette. This was where I kept my mother’s homemade cookies in the tiny freezer. I loved Sloan and the kids with all my heart, but I got two batches of Ma’s white chocolate and macadamia cookies a year. I wasn’t sharing a single one.

After preparing a cup of coffee and heating two cookies, I got comfortable on the couch and flipped open a notebook. Most of the time when I had arrangements with subs who wanted something from me, we had negotiations but rarely a written contract. That wasn’t what I was drawing up here either, but we clearly needed to decide some boundaries and conditions.

Given the time of day, I assumed Corey was showing up alone. Maybe he’d stay till tonight; maybe he’d leave and come back with his Top. Either way, this slip of paper was going to reach Marcus. If he didn’t agree to my terms, Corey and I couldn’t go on.

But as I sat there and stared at the blank paper, an exhaustion crept in, one I couldn’t push past. It forced me to ask what the hell I was doing. Even when I lived right in the middle of my kinky world, I existed on the sidelines. Always the helper, the organizer, the dungeon monitor—never the groom, for lack of a better word.

Where was my sub? Where was the man who wanted to kneel at my feet for more than an evening? What the fuck was wrong with me? Why could I attract temporary playthings like bees to honey but never hold on to a steady partner?

While I’d been pushing Sloan to get back to kink, I’d been blinded by events and parties that I’d attended but not participated in in the way I craved. Just a few weeks ago, I’d demonstrated sounding on three happy subbie boys—an amazing night. I’d had fun. I’d gotten some brief but fantastic playtime. And then…? I’d gone home alone, of course. It was the story of my goddamn life.

I wasn’t thirty anymore either. I didn’t have all the time in the world. I’d be forty-six next spring.

A text from Corey brought an end to my pity party.

Just parked. Where do you want to talk, Sir?

There’d be no funny business today, so I texted him back saying he could come to my cabin.

Then I dipped both cookies in my coffee and crammed them into my mouth as I got a soda for Corey from the fridge. I remembered he liked Mountain Dew and Coke, and I had the latter. I opened the front door too, to let some fresh air in. October was the month when it was too hot for starting a fire, too chilly to start the AC.

October… I scratched my eyebrow and thought about our future Games. They tended to fall near the end of the month, but it was Thanksgiving at the end of the next. Even though we were in the middle of planning our October Game, we should get cracking on the November Game too, because we’d have to host it earlier in the month. I was thinking the second or third week.

Outside of the cabin, I heard Corey greet someone, presumably on the main patio, so I put together a quick text to the usual suspects. For every Game, we had a group chat.

It’s time to make plans for our November event, friends. Colt, you’ve been talking about sensation play and sensory deprivation. Maybe that’s a good pick for November since it’s likely to require less manual labor.

The last event and the one we were planning for in October had brought us a lot of work. And in November, when people were heading elsewhere to visit family for the holiday, it’d be nice to have something simple.

“Knock, knock! Hi, Sir.”

I grinned and eyed Corey in the doorway. “Hey, kid. Have a seat.”

“Oh wow! You have so many books!” He kicked off his shoes and walked straight in, eyes filled with amazement at all the shelves.

I smiled at his evident excitement. I’d thought he’d been to my cabin before, but maybe he hadn’t. Then I added one more text, this time in the group chat for our October Game.

Reese, can you talk to Kingsley about adding him to the conversation? Now that he’s back with Tate, I’m thinking they’ll wanna join.

“How are you today?” I pocketed my phone.

“I’m okay.” He plopped down on the far end of the couch while I took the other end. “But my bruises have healed almost completely. I don’t like that part.”