Breathless (The Game 3)

Since he was one of the founders of our BDSM community, his attendance was required for today’s get-together.

“Mack,” I called.

He looked up from the wine bottle he was opening and flashed a grin. “Hey, I’ll be right there.”

He looked…happier. Good. His breakup this past spring had been pretty ugly.

When I met him almost nine years ago, I’d thought he would be one of those who dipped their toes into the kinky pond before hightailing it out of there. He’d just turned twenty-one, and he’d “read about BDSM” and proudly declared himself a switch. Interestingly enough, that was true to this day, and he was our community’s youngest founder.

He joined me shortly after and set my radar off when he walked close to me on the way up to the third floor and asked if River and I were seeing anyone.

“You know we’re not. Anything you wanna ask of us?”

He chuckled self-consciously, letting me know exactly what mind-set he was in, and diverted his gaze to the floor. Precious. It wasn’t as if Riv and I would turn him down. We’d played with Macklin before.

He failed to look casual. “I only wanna point out that it’s been a long time since we did any group play.”

I smirked and side-eyed him. “Set something up then, slut boy.”

He grinned back, a spark of excitement flashing in his dark eyes that I’d missed. “Okay, I will. I’ll check the schedule online tonight.”

“Sounds good.” I smacked his cheek lightly before I pushed open the door to the rooftop terrace.

The two long picnic tables were packed during munches, even leaving several attendees to utilize the bar tables along the brick wall framing the area. But today, it was only us eight founders, and Macklin already had his staff up here to serve drinks and snack platters.

Fuck, it was hot. The fabric ceiling did fuck-all to shut out the sun, and there wasn’t a hint of a breeze.

“There he is.” Colt nodded at me. Luke, his man, sat beside him, though he was busy on his phone.

I offered a two-finger salute to everyone as I took my seat next to my brother, and he gave my thigh a squeeze. I knew he didn’t like to face our friends without me.

Peering down the table, I did a quick headcount. Colt, Luke, Macklin, Greer, Penelope, Lucian. Everyone who’d been there eight years ago when Riv and I had started talking about forming this community.

“I take it you didn’t gather us here to discuss the next Game?” Luke asked.

No, we had everything planned for the next event already. “It’s one of our members.” I figured it was best to stand up for this, so I took a swig of my water before I left my seat. “As some of you know, we had a minor problem last month, which August reported to us.” I positioned myself at the head of the table and opened the file I’d brought. “A member named Shay Acton approached August with hopes of getting some S/M playtime, but when August tried to vet Shay—who’s fairly new here—the kid scrambled. He didn’t want to explain his masochism or take part in any pre-play discussions—or aftercare, for that matter.”

We were lucky it was August, a well-known friend and Sadist who took safety as seriously as one could.

“Shortly thereafter, Shay approached another Sadist,” I went on. “Same thing. It was reported to us, and there was reason to believe Shay was looking for punishment.” I gestured to Penelope. “Pen talked to him at the last munch.”

She nodded. “I reminded him of the rules—and the consequences if they weren’t followed—and offered counsel in case he wanted to talk or needed help.”

Colt scratched his jaw and squinted at me. “Wasn’t there talk of banning him?”

I inclined my head. “Briefly, but we don’t wanna go there. Especially not now.” I glanced at Riv, silently asking if he wanted to share his findings, but he shook his head minutely. All right. I cleared my throat. “The other week, Riv and I heard from a couple friends in another community. After some back-and-forth about a masochist they’d encountered, we understood it was Shay again. He’s literally turning DC’s kink communities upside down in a quest to find a Sadist who will beat his ass for the wrong reasons.”

“It won’t take him long to find one,” Luke said with a shake of his head.

“No, it won’t,” I replied. “We already know he’s found his way to the wrong crowds.” Thanks to River following Shay two Saturdays in a row. And digging around a bit. It was what my brother had done professionally for over fifteen years. Old habits died hard. “River has found out some things about Shay’s personal life that I won’t share here, but it’s led us to believe that pushing him away might have disastrous effects.” I paused. “As far as we know, he doesn’t have a regular job. Instead, he makes his money as a cage fighter on the weekends.”