Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I believed the trick with Daddy was to understand the severity of the situation but also to assume that he had the strength to adapt. Like, “What’re you talking about? Of course you can ski or rock climb. Don’t be stupid.” And that part, Lucian was great at. He still had expectations of Daddy, and that was vital. The problem arose if expectations were lowered—too much.
That was how I viewed it anyway. I was gonna talk to Daddy about it and maybe find support groups online. Either way, Daddy was a moron if he thought I was going to accept him lowering the expectations on himself. That was the worst.
My phone rang again, and I sank down in my seat to fish it out of my pocket. Conveniently, Lucian’s hand ended up a couple inches higher.
It was Cameron calling.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey, babe,” he echoed with a sleepy chuckle. “I wake up and everyone’s missing. KC filled me in, though. Can you ask Master if he wants me to make it a late waffle lunch when you get back instead?”
I relayed the question to Lucian.
“That’s an excellent idea,” he agreed.
“He says yes like a good little boy,” I answered, bracing myself. Come on, Lucian. Squeeze my balls or something, touch me inappropriately, grip my neck. He didn’t do any of that. He removed his hand from me and returned it to the wheel.
Fuck, fuck.
“Jeez, Noa,” Cameron muttered. “You’re playing with fire.”
Was I? Because it felt like I’d just killed it.
Then Cameron launched into a “by the way” harangue on something he’d discussed with a few other subs in the community, but I couldn’t really focus. I had to make it right with Lucian.
I tapped him on his arm, and he glanced over at me with a patient expression. Casual. As if he didn’t know what’d just transpired!
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I mouthed.
“For what?” he whispered back.
“…and this is top secret—you can’t tell any of the Doms, Noa.”
Whoa. I smelled secrecy!
“I get it,” I replied quickly. And just as quickly, I mouthed my response to Lucian. “For calling you a good little boy.”
“Ah. And possibly for thinking you could force a reaction from me?”
I lowered my gaze. “Yes, Sir.”
“What?” Cameron asked.
Okay, I couldn’t talk to two people at once! Frustration burst through me, and I decided to wrap up my call with Cameron. “I’ll have to call you later, honey. But whatever you need, I’m game. Love you, bye.”
Lucian chuckled. “Too much?”
“A tad. I can’t concentrate when I think I’ve disappointed someone,” I mumbled.
“You didn’t disappoint me, sweetheart,” he reassured. “I just don’t want you to think you can play me. But you’re a young, naïve little boy. I have patience for your slow learning process.”
I gaped at him.
Young, naïve? Slow to learn?
Then he rumbled a warm laugh, and I couldn’t fucking believe him! He was messing with me! What a turd!
I talked to Cameron again while I waited for Lucian to pick me up outside the studio, and suddenly I was looking forward to the Game event even more. We were going to surprise the Tops with one hell of a message.
“Sometimes we have to show them that we’re capable of keeping them on their toes too,” Cameron said. “They think they’re hilarious when they turn a Funhouse event into a haunted mansion? Well, we’re gonna light their shit right up. Because that’s fun too.”
I loved this side of him. It wasn’t often he embraced the brat.
I’d listened to the plan concocted by Shay, Ivy, Kit, and Cameron himself. We weren’t actually going to expose the Sadists to anything revengeful-like; we were just gonna remind them that we could be sneaks too. We could go behind their backs and catch them off guard just like they did with us all the freaking time.
We had a job to do, and I had calls to make. Because of my career goals and passion for music, Cameron had asked if I could “make edits” to some songs we were gonna use. No problem. I had the software I needed on my laptop at home, and if I had to gain access to more advanced tech, I was sure I could talk to Shawn. He’d changed his attitude somewhat today. He liked my ideas. He listened to me. And that meant a lot.
Lucian rolled up a couple minutes later, and I climbed into his car.
“Hi, Sir. Did you get your errands taken care of?”
“I did, and then some. How was your studio time? Did you fix the problem?”
“Sort of. We put more options on the table, anyway.” I fastened my seat belt and clasped my hands in my lap. “Shawn and his crew are meeting with the artist later, so we’ll see.”
Lucian drove into traffic and said, “If she doesn’t like your suggestions, there has to be something wrong with her.”