Their Boy (The Game 2)

“So? Either way, you should prepare yourself for the fact that this might be a playdate,” he told me seriously. And his tone was enough to give me pause and make me listen. “You’ve seen how quickly things happen in clubs, and we in the Daddy/Little community don’t use that platform as much. But that doesn’t mean we don’t go from greeting potential partners to fucking them in five minutes sometimes.”

I widened my eyes at that last part. “Exaggerate much?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but you know what I mean. If you all like each other, don’t be surprised if they make a move fast.”

I nodded once. On that, we could agree. Playtime did occur casually and without much beating around the bush. Even so, I didn’t see that happening with Colt and Lucas. I could certainly see me losing my marbles around them, however. And I told Abel as much.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Excuse me for being a romantic and thinking you’ll hit it off, you shithead.”

I grinned.

He narrowed his eyes. “I can’t wait for you to tell me I was right, and I can’t wait to rub it in when I get there in a few weeks. My buddy Kit, in a triad. That’s wild.”

Yeah, well. I was hoping I’d be able to tell him in person then that I’d made two new friends. That was all.

“I guess we’ll see,” I said.

He nodded. “I’m curious about the house, though. Something’s missing there. Suddenly, they didn’t want a place for the summer?”

I was confused about that too. As Lucas had been when Colt had returned to the kitchen and declared, “New plans, darlin’.” The baffled look on Lucas’s face had remained there while Colt gestured for them to leave. He’d told Lucas about the plans for the weekend, and then when they got to the hallway, he’d said something about, “Remember when we talked about the exception that proved the rule?” Then some understanding had dawned on Lucas. With me, not so much.

“I have no idea,” I said to Abel with a shrug. “Maybe they’ll let me know tomorrow at 1200 hours sharp.”

Abel scrunched his nose. “That’s noon, right?”

I nodded. “They told me comfy clothes are mandatory. Sweatpants and a hoodie should work, right?”

“The sweats are fine…” Abel cocked his head. “T-shirt or no shirt at all. You’d only wear the hoodie to hide your arms. It’s time you show off that hot ink.”

“Ugh.” I fidgeted with the collar of my button-down. “In my defense, I wore a tee to the munch.”

“Then there’s even less of a reason to run back into hiding.”

He was right; I just hated it. I felt so damn exposed. Especially in the presence of two Doms. At the munch, I’d only had to answer to my acquaintances and their curiosity. I had a feeling Lucas and Colt wouldn’t settle for brush-offs or bullshit.

I ran my thumb over the faint scar that extended up my jaw. Would they be close enough to notice it? There were some smaller scars on my face from cuts that hadn’t faded either, but you almost had to be nose-to-nose to see them. My thighs and legs had some minor scarring too, and I didn’t think I’d ever have the energy to cover those up with tattoos. My torso and arms had to be enough.

“What’re you scared of, babe?” Abel asked, concern in his eyes. “The whole point of having friends is being able to share your shit with them. Not being alone, having fun together, helping out—and so on. It’s what you want. And you do it just fine with me. Now you just have to stop keeping others at arm’s length.”

I huffed and narrowed my eyes. “When did you get so bossy?”

He laughed.* * *I really had to be more meticulous with my skincare. I’d used everything prescribed to me religiously the past three days, and I was reaping the benefits as I woke up on Saturday morning. My skin felt much better, and there was no rasping against the sheets. I rolled over onto my back and stretched out, and then I caught a whiff of the familiar smell of Rosa’s baking.

I blinked sleepily and peered over at the alarm cl— “Crap!” I bolted out of bed, only to stop abruptly because I was too disoriented. Hell. Begone, sleep. I rubbed at my eyes and yawned. I was late, damn it. I’d stayed up half the night arguing with some idiot who thought the Eurofighter was a better-equipped plane than our Raptor. I’d been so mad!

I ignored my T-shirt that was draped over the chair by my bed and stuck my feet into my pajama bottoms.

After stumbling into my bathroom, I relieved myself, washed up, and brushed my teeth. I was still squinting when I headed down the stairs, and I hoped Rosa had something that could wake me up properly. Because Colt and Lucas would be here in less than an hour, and I probably shouldn’t look like I’d just rolled out of bed then.