Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Everything okay?” He eyed me in a way that let me know he’d noticed my being distracted on the way over.
I sighed and figured I might as well tell him everything, and I sort of hoped he would call me paranoid. I mean, it wasn’t unheard of that people posted older photos like they were new. In today’s social media frenzy, humankind applied old-time preparedness as if we were facing an apocalypse. We always made sure we had pictures to post.
Dean and I walked at a slower pace as I explained what I’d found, and we were passed by an excited Kit when we were halfway to the house.
“Hello, Master Dean! Hello, Mister Santiago!”
He was already gone, so there was no time to reply. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Colt and Lucas at the carport. Then I refocused on Dean.
“Tell me I’m nuts,” I half joked.
At the same time, I did this for a living. I knew what I was doing. Caleb was stepping off his pattern, which had seemed forced to begin with, and I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was planning something.
Dean sidestepped a mud puddle in the middle of the lawn and furrowed his brow. “As fun as that would be, I can’t. His sudden return to the West Coast didn’t sit right with me. It seemed as if he was trying to establish an alibi and a sense of…nothing’s wrong here.”
Exactly.
“If anything, I’d like to help you,” he added. “He clearly needs to be watched.”
“There ain’t much you can do, love. We have surveillance where it’s allowed, and we’ve installed more security at Gael’s place,” I said. “But obviously, it’s best you and Gael stay with me until we know what Caleb’s up to.”
He grinned faintly and grabbed my hand. “Of course.”
Mclean House was the place for me. This was the community I wanted to invest my time, money, and energy in. They went above and beyond to make fantasies reality, and that was what I had missed.
Some of the texts in the group chat made more sense now. The downstairs club area had been emptied of sofas and tables, replaced by neatly organized wooden chairs that Greer had rented. The bar had been partially covered—well, the bottles were hidden behind a screen, and the bartop was now home to a coffee machine and a cookie jar. This was the faculty lounge, as it said on a sign. The platform where demos were usually hosted now had a podium and a line of chairs too. With a big backdrop on the wall with Mclean House Academy’s crest.
While the brats were treated to an orientation speech by Lucas on the porch, where nothing but outdoor heaters kept the members somewhat warm as they changed into their uniforms, the Tops got ready inside.
Those who wanted to enjoy the event as a spectator had an area reserved in the back of the club. That included some Tops who couldn’t participate but had their subs involved.
Greer, Colt, and I were PE coaches for the event, and we headed into Reese’s office to change into our own uniforms. Black tees with the Academy crest, black shorts, black socks, black sneakers, black headbands, and, of-fucking-course, whistles and stopwatches that hung around our necks.
“Kit don’t know it yet, but I’m more excited than he is,” Colt said.
I chuckled. That was probably true for most Tops. We’d have a goddamn blast.
“Is Gael a maso?” Greer asked.
I tipped my hand, weighing my response. “I don’t think he necessarily gets off on pain beyond the sensual kind, but he loves wearing bruises.”
I’d caught him this morning trying to take a picture of his cute butt in the mirror.
Greer smirked. “That’s maso in my book.”
“Just a whole other chapter from Corey,” Colt laughed.
“Oh yeah, don’t go easy on him today,” Greer chuckled. “I’ve been a sweetheart to him all week. You can say he’s frustrated.”
Colt lifted his brows. “Similar with Kit. Seriously, don’t hold back too much with him. He’s been tryin’ to rile me up since Valentine’s, when I let him know we’d provoke brats today.”
“Because we don’t do that otherwise?” Greer drawled.
I snorted in amusement.
“Gael’s a brat too, it’n he?” Colt asked.
“I wanna say yes, but we haven’t seen the extent yet,” I replied. “He’s testing the waters of submission first—to ground him a bit. He and Dean are slowly but surely establishing a servitude structure.”
I knew he had a brat in him, though. The goofball was alive and well, and I was ready for whatever degree he felt most natural.
“Huh.” Colt scratched his jaw. “I was a little surprised at first when Kit told me about the cooking class. I guess I thought Gael would be more Little like my boy—less focus on D/s.”
No, I’d had Gael pegged for a submissive right away.