Page 32 of Naughty November
“If you’re trying to recruit me to vanilla dating, don’t bother,” I said. “I want BDSM in my life.”
He groaned through a chuckle, clearly frustrated with me. “All I’m sayin’, you stubborn motherfucker, is that once you click with someone, your chemistry is going to make shit real simple. That’s why I never bothered lookin’ for someone within a specific kink box. It doesn’t fuckin’ matter—and I trust myself to be drawn to men who want pain in some capacity. But even if I didn’t…? Hell. I don’t know.” He sighed. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t know.
“I just think…” He cleared his throat. “Once you meet someone you want more of, you won’t care if it’s a sub, a regressing masochist, an every-now-and-then bottom, or a switchy primal player.”
I wasn’t gonna give him shit. I did understand what he was getting at.
“When you mix two components, you don’t know what the chemical reaction’s gonna be,” he finished.
I stared down into my glass, watching the ice melt into rounded cubes.
Water mixing with vodka.
When you mix two components…
I’d had some explosive chemical reactions, and of-fucking-course, most of them involved Reid. Mostly group play. When we found eachother playing close together, and we sort of gravitated toward each other…
One memory stood out. Maybe three years ago, when we’d all rented a big house in the Keys. We’d essentially had a three-day-long fuckfest.
“Do you remember when we had Joey between us in the hot tub?” I asked.
I finished my drink, and a slow dizzy spell rolled through me.
“You mean before he went monogamous with LC? Yeah, I remember.”
I furrowed my brow. “I’m monogamous too.”
“So am I, but it doesn’t make shit easy for group play.”
True enough.
“What about that night?” he asked.
I shrugged to myself and left the glass on the table. I was officially drunk, and I was done drinking. Otherwise, I’d never get up tomorrow.
“It was hot,” I said.
LC had filmed us in the water. It was back when they were just play partners. Sam had spotted us. We’d been so rough on Joey, one of the most hardcore masos I’d ever played with. Well—Reid had been rough. I’d ended up on the receiving end, despite having Joey between us.
With Joey on my lap, and him fucking himself on my cock, facing me, I’d been too close to Reid’s target. He’d used a rubber flogger on the boy’s back, and the lashes had struck my arms and neck. Then later, when Joey had taken both of us at the same time, Reid had gotten so swept away by the moment that he’d become grabbier with me than the boy. Because I remembered so vividly how he’d picked up the pace, looking down at where his cock was disappearing into Joey’s tight ass alongside my own, while his hand had slipped up my throat?—
“My go-to memory is the jungle takedown.” Reid’s low voice shook me out of my own reminiscing, only to shove me into a new memory. And this one—fuck, I’d almost forgotten. Wait,thiswas his go-to? But he’d… “The look on your face when you got caught in the crossfire.”
I clenched my jaw, instantly annoyed, even as a thick rush of desire slithered through me.
Got caught in the crossfire—vague way of reminding me of how he’d shoved me up against a tree in order to get me away from the prey I’d thrown down on the ground. Reid had scratched up my entire back with that move.
He’d also let the prey escape, however briefly.
I swallowed hard as the memories came rushing back.
The anger, the shock, thefight. Oh fuck, the fight. How had I suppressed this memory?
He’d grabbed me in a chokehold, taking advantage of my frozen state, and grazed his nose up my jaw.
“Having fun?”