Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
I nod. “Right. And that’s the problem. How do I stop the instinct from… being set off?”
“Uh-uh-uh, my friend. That’s not your job to figure out. It’s your Dom’s,” she tells me.
My head jerks back. “What?”
“Think about it, Twy. There’s a limit inside you, whether you’ve consciously set it or not. And he’s reaching that limit, which sets off your stress reaction to freeze. Other people might be able to call yellow, or red, or their safe word, but it stops you in your tracks,” she explains, and it rings true.
“Okaaay.”
She switches gears. “Let me ask you this. And don’t go wigging out. It’s important. Okay?”
I take a deep breath, let it out, and make a valiant effort to stay clearheaded when I tell her to go for it.
“What happens during your scene, after you freeze and don’t follow Seven’s command?”
Instantly, I feel heat creeping up my neck, but instead of allowing my mind to follow its course up the rest of my face, I bulldoze through to answer her quickly, “He recognizes it immediately, stops our scene, and wraps me up for aftercare to let me know I’m not in trouble and he’s not mad at me.”
She doesn’t respond for a moment, and I check my phone to make sure our call didn’t disconnect.
“You there?” I finally ask.
“Yeah,” she breathes, and I’m surprised by the emotion in my badass friend’s voice. “I’m just so fucking proud of you right now, Twy. You did it.”
I feel tears try to climb up my throat and tingle my nose at her response, but I laugh to keep them down. “My face is super-hot right now,” I admit.
“But you answered me, woman! You didn’t let that anxiety steal your voice.” After a few seconds—in which she forces me to do a happy dance with her over the phone—she says, “Okay, so that’s an excellent Dom. As we all know Seven is. It’s a Dominant’s job to recognize when their submissive has reached a limit but is, for whatever reason, unable to call their safe word. And whether that safe word is called or not, if a limit is reached, it’s their job to either pause or completely end the scene, without any repercussions for the sub. So, just to clarify, he’s always completely ended the scene? He’s never attempted to pause and assess, then continue on with it? Like he would if you called ‘yellow’ instead of ‘red’?”
I nod again. “Right.”
“Hm.” She’s quiet while she deliberates. “Sooo… okay. I think I’m having a thought.”
I bark out a laugh, and it must be loud, because Seth glances over at me with a small smile on his face, telling me he heard it even from outside of my car. I snort and cover my mouth when Luna throws the ball at him and nails him right in the crotch. The ball is hollow plastic and way lighter than a normal basketball, but she really chucked it at him, and he falls to his knees in the grass, covering the front of his pants. My face falls right along with him, and I almost end the call and run to check on him. But just as Luna reaches him, she lets out a shriek when he lunges upward and grabs her, pulling her down on top of his belly and tickling the hell out of her.
“What’s your thought?” I ask Clarice, hurrying her along now, because I really want to join my little family in all their fun.
“Right. Here’s what you do,” she tells me.
And hearing her out, knowing she’s a part-time Dominant herself, I believe her plan will work brilliantly.
As long as I don’t mess it up.
CHAPTER 9
Seth
My birthday so far has been one for the books. It started out as a fun-filled morning and afternoon with my girls, exploring the science museum we hadn’t been to since before Luna was born. Watching her absorb all the exhibits with looks of fascination and wonder was worth every second of the two-hour drive each way. Now, we’re finishing up dinner at Doc’s house, where Astrid served the entire crew one of the best home-cooked meals I’ve ever had.
Even if I’m a meat-eater, and the food was all plant-based.
She made a point to tell my wife each dish’s list of naturally grown ingredients every time Twyla or I remarked on how delicious it was, razzing my woman about her undying love for fast food. Well, until Doc shut her down with a laser-focused glance that went from her eyes, to her throat, then back to her eyes. Her little gulp was adorable and so similar to a reaction my wife often has that it makes it obvious the two women are siblings, even while they don’t look very much alike.
At the head of the table is Doc in his usual spot, Astrid to his right, with Luna between her and Twyla, since our daughter is obsessed with her aunt. I’m sure it has a lot to do with the fact that Astrid is a professional makeup artist, and they play dress-up every day she’s here when Twyla and I are both at work. We would’ve hired a nanny or at least found a way to split our schedules so she could be with one of her parents at all times, but Astrid put her foot down the very first time she heard what we were considering for childcare. She had finished cosmetology school, now sets her own hours as a makeup artist, and was home “with no one but Scout-boy to keep me company while Neil is at work,” so she assigned herself the job of being her niece’s nanny.