Twice the Touch (5 page)

"Focus right here, subbie," I
murmur to her; then I nod for Brayden to answer.

"We
've talked about limits and stuff," he replies and bites his lip. I can tell he's aware of my hand cupping his neck. "We don’t like edgeplay, and—"

"Subjective definition," I comment with a little smirk.

There are gray areas within the entire lifestyle. What's considered edgeplay for one couple might be tame for another. Rules and limits apply to the couple who agrees on them, no one else. That said, there are a few activities involving more danger than others, such as blood play, fire play, and breath play. Nicholas won't allow blood play—which I understand—and he doesn’t have permits for this club to allow fire play, but breath play is now okay as long as a DM is present for the scene.

Even more difficult to categorize are specific implements. Little Kayla would scream "Danger, danger!" and run for her life at the sight of a cane. Dante's sub would kneel down and propose.

"Can you tell me what edgeplay means for you?"

"Too much pain," Evange
line chimes in, and Brayden agrees. "We don’t like that. We're not masochists."

"Ah." I nod. "But edgeplay and masochism are two different things. One describes something you might be, and one is a category of acts involving greater risks."
I pause. "For example, have you heard of fire flogging?"

Brayden gulps; Evangelin
e shudders.

"
Fire
?" she squeaks out.

I smile
and give her hair a tug, forcing her to face me. "Yes. Fire." The thought of using a fire flogger on these two makes my cock harden again. "Imagine me flogging you." Turning to Brayden, I tighten my hold on his neck and bring him a few inches closer. "Or you." His pupils dilate. "Imagine being surrounded by darkness. Tiny flickers of fire coming down on your skin so fast you hardly register the feeling." Facing Evangeline, I continue. My voice lowers. "Imagine seeing the ends whipping through the air, the fire creating shadows that dance over your naked body." She exhales shakily, eyes widening.  "Imagine that as soon as the heat smatters your skin, the slight chill of the air follows right away." She shivers, much like she would if I used my flogger with Kevlar lashes on her. Fire play might be edgeplay, but it has nothing to do with pain. Like any act, there
can
be pain—a lot of it. But
I
use it to heighten the sub's senses. He or she will be extremely aware of my every move. "Have you ever swiped your finger through the flame of a candle?" I ask Brayden. He nods hesitantly and licks his lips. "It didn’t hurt, did it?"

With fire play, the impact varies depending on the implement you use, but there's no talk of real heat
when I play. No one's getting
burned
. It doesn’t mark the skin.

Putting edgeplay aside, we still have temperature play and sensation play. It's almost the same
; only, fire comes with a risk that makes it edgeplay. But the goal is the same—heightening the senses, making the sub more aware, making him or her
feel
more.

"Well, when you put it that way…" Brayden chuckles, though the
wariness and unease remain.

"You have nothing to worry about
," I assure him. "It takes complete trust and a lot of work before I would even think about it. My reason for bringing this up is to make you see. There are acts you two simply know too little about to push away and set as hard limits. It's your Dom's job to push those limits. It's his job to keep you on your toes, to learn new things, and to get you out of your comfort zone." Because if all we want is comfort, we wouldn’t want the BDSM lifestyle, right? "It's human instinct to run away from fire, so what you're feeling now is normal." I make sure they know I'm talking to both of them. At their nods, I go on. "The only thing I ask of you is to keep an open mind."

Outside our bubble of privacy, the music
changes into something more ominous, and Cade begins to welcome tonight's participants to the game of Hide & Seek. It's Nicholas's signal to end Kayla's punishment since they're going to play, and it's my cue to get my ass back to work. Well, I should've returned a long time ago, but now I really need to. Max's shift is ending in the Cave, leaving me to take over.

I wait to speak while Nicholas and Kayla get up to leave; she looks like she wants to say something to Brayden and Evangeline—having probably heard me earlier about the munches—but Nick shakes his head no. For which I'm thankful. It's time to wrap this up, and I need my subs' undivided attention to ensure they're all right after our scene.

Once we're alone, I ask them a few more questions, and I also tell them that it's normal to feel overwhelmed and confused after playtime. Handing over my contact information to Brayden, I make it clear that they have to call me if they experience their moods dropping or anything like that. It's not optional. It's easier to release them, though, since they're two. They will be each other's support, and that certainly helps.

A few minutes later, we're all st
anding in the pretty empty lobby of the club and I'm helping Evangeline with her trench coat. Tonight's main event has just started, so this is hardly a time to leave. But these two do look like they could use some time alone to share their thoughts about our scene and to simply be together.

"Sir?" Evangeline's big
, brown eyes peer up at me. "What about you? We haven't given you any pleasure."

My mouth quirks up and I touch her cheek. "On the contrary, kitten."
I may not have gotten a release, but I will. At some point. For our scene, I didn’t care. I suppose I was too wrapped up in wanting them to get a proper introduction to my lifestyle. "I enjoyed myself very much." I give Brayden a glance because he's just as included. "If we scene together again, expect me to crank it up." I smirk as two sets of cheeks flame with heat.

"You—you're willing to do another scene with us?" Brayden asks hesitantly.

"Of course." There's no denying that. "But if we do, we will sit down and talk beforehand—about limits and so on." The thought of maybe having them in a bed where they're both restrained…or perhaps strapping Brayden to a sawhorse…or maybe fucking Evangeline into oblivion in a swing…
fuck
.

Too many possibilities.

Chapter 4

"
You owe me, my man." Kevin walks up to the bar in the Cave and sits down on a stool. "I'm all sweaty and drenched in beer."

I chuckle as I
prepare a Jack and Coke for one of the guests. Switch in all its entirety is dark and foggy, subs and Doms running around playing Hide & Seek, so it's not easy to see what I'm doing. "Tell your wife to go easy on you tonight. Or…maybe extra hard?" Kevin's wife is one scary Mistress. Sadist, hard-core, and unforgiving. But that’s what does it for Kevin. "But you're right." I set the drink down in front of the Dom who ordered it and return to Kevin. "I do owe you. Thanks for covering for me."

One naked sub runs into the
Cave, quickly finding a hiding spot in one of the hollow foam blocks, and Kevin and I watch in amusement as her Dom—or Daddy Dom, actually—is hot on her tail. John, I note when I squint my eyes to see in the dark. That means the subbie's Gabriella, his Little Girl. Also Nicholas and Kayla's friends.

The fog the DMs
keep releasing makes it close to impossible to recognize faces, but if you're close enough, it works.

"I'm surprised you're not playing tonight." Kevin turns in his seat to face me again. "There's always a line of subs around you, so it can't be that you haven't found anyone."

"Liam's daughter is sick. I'm covering for him," I answer, but my focus is on a sub who might be skirting the rules soon. Because she's standing near a scening stall, fiddling with the curtain. Considering. Looking around. And when she lifts the curtain to slip inside, I let out a sharp whistle to get her attention. Oh, I get it, all right.
Caught with her hand in the cookie jar
. Folding my arms over my chest, I stare her down as she dutifully walks over. "You know the stalls are off-limits."

"Yes, Sir.
I'm sorry, Sir." She gulps, her eyes flicking around, presumably to see if her Dom is near. "May this one go now?"

Speaking about herself in
the third person is a sure giveaway to the fact that she's a slave. Not every one talks like that, but it's common enough.

"What's your color, slave?"

"Oh, green." She nods furiously, and I give her body a once-over.
She's only wearing a thong and her collar. Flushed cheeks, eyes wide with excitement, constricted nipples, and thighs pressed together for friction.
Fair enough
.

I s
nicker and quickly jot down two lines on a notepad. Next I tear off the top sheet and fold it together. "I want you to give this to your Master." I tuck it into her white glow-in-the-dark wristband. "Off you go."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." She runs.

Kevin and I share a laugh and then someone orders a beer, so I get to it.

"What did you write on the note?" he asks.

"That she tried to hide in one of the stalls." I slide the beer over the bar to the patron, as always checking for wristbands, but this man isn't wearing any. "That’s seven dollars, sir."

"And what if I know the owner?" The man lifts his head and smirks.

I'll be damned
. "Rio!" I laugh in disbelief and shake his hand. "When the hell did you get back?" This guy is always in some remote corner of the world. Doctors Without Borders—an honorable man for sure. "Damn, it's good to see ya, buddy."

"You too." He grins and takes a sip of his draft. "It's good to be home." When he pulls out his wallet, I wave it off. "Cheers, mate." A geographical cocktail, that’s what he is
—with looks to match. With a half-Brazilian mother, an Australian father, and one grandparent who is Irish, he's inherited a bit of everything. Black hair, alabaster skin, striking green eyes, and his own little accent. It's mostly American since he actually grew up in the States, but there are definitely a few quirks. "And I just got back yesterday." He answers my previous question. "For good."

My eyebrows rise. "For good?"

As far as I knew, those two words didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Unless it's saying that he'll be a vagabond for good. He used to work at a private hospital here, but when his fiancée died in a car accident five years ago, he left it all behind and joined Doctors Without Borders. I don’t think he's still mourning her, but there's been a definite change in his behavior. A bit more subdued. Quiet. Detached.

He shrugs and eyes a laughing sub being chased by his
Domme. "I'm getting old." His gaze travels back to mine. "And my last stint made me miss home."

I scoff
. "Old. You're what, thirty-five, thirty-six?"

He smirks and tips his glass at me. "Cheers—but it's forty in a couple months."

Eh. Still not fucking old. Christ, people are too obsessed with numbers these days. If my mother's not complaining I haven't settled down yet, it's my sister-in-law who wants cousins for my niece. It's like every time I see them, they remind me of my age. As if I've forgotten.

"So, you're going to look for a job here, then?" I assume. He's a
trust-fund baby, so he might not need it, but the years I've known him have shown he's a hard worker.

"I'm in no rush, but…yeah, eventually." He giv
es the club an appreciative glance. "Nick's really done well with this place. I've missed it." He points to a few stalls. "Good idea—this expansion."

I couldn’t agree more, and we keep talking a little about this and that; I also introduce him to Kevin, who started working here a year and a half ago, right after Rio took off for…Cambodia, I think.

We fill
Rio in on what's new, mainly Nicholas meeting Kayla, and I chuckle my way through the story of how they met. Nick told me earlier this evening that they're flying up to Oregon this Christmas to see Kayla's family, which will be the first time since his ex's sister's wedding when he came with one woman and left with Kayla.

"Sounds like drama to me."
Rio shakes his head in amusement. "Is he around? I looked for him, but I didn’t see him."

"He's playing." I jerk my chin toward the original club area.

At this point, several subs have been found by their Doms, and the laughter of those who are running mixes with the sound of owners staking claim. Some scream out in pleasure as they get fucked publicly, some beg for mercy, some plead for more.

It's heady and reminds me once more of the fact that I'm stuck behind the
fucking bar instead of playing.

Next time
, I vow to myself.

Chapter 5

The day after, I make my way toward my big brother's house in Sausalito and park outside, seeing all the cars I expected to see. My younger brothers—Ted and Seth—are here, as are my parents. An unconventional family. Only our immediate family is here. Because my siblings hate the others.

Walking up the path littered with Abby's outdoor toys, I steel myself for another dinner with the family. God knows I love them, but sometimes I don’t know how I put up with their shit. I'm talking about my conservative brothers, not my parents. Mom and Dad are the opposite. Here at my brother's place, we get white picket fences, the suburban feel, and the all-American dream
sprinkled with a few extra zeroes in the bank account. All my brothers are the same.

Greg followed
in Dad's footsteps first and became a lawyer. Only, instead of having half a load of pro bono cases and working for the environment like our father, Greg is all about Corporate America.

When Dad retired early and left the firm his own father started, Greg changed things around
. Seth joined a few years ago. Cooper Law II is all about billable hours now, and I know it's only a matter of time before Ted makes partner too and turns that II into III. Three money-hungry Coopers owning a law firm.

I ring
the doorbell, and my seven-year-old niece rips the door open, a gap-toothed grin on her face. "Uncle Mark!"

I chuckle and ruffle her hair.
It's all blond and curly and adorable with bows. "Hey, my little pumpkin. Pretty sure you're not allowed to open the door by yourself." And as the words leave my mouth, I hear Tess calling Abby's name from inside. I grin and cock a brow, eager to get out of the cold, harsh winds. "Uh-oh. Sounds like Abby's in trouble." She's fucking cute, this one. Had Alexa and I been good together, maybe we would've been parents now, too.

"You come save me." She giggles and pulls me into the hallway. "
My new friend also saves me from Mommy lots and lots." Ah, that means she's got a new babysitter. Again. Greg rarely likes the people watching Abby after school, so he fires them. And it's up to Tess to find a new sitter. Ideally for Greg, Tess would stay home with Abby, but she doesn’t want to give up her job as a nurse. It's her passion, and she knows how needed she is in her profession. "She's here for dinner, 'cause Daddy wans'ta talk to her a bit more."

"I see." My brother—much like me, I suppose—needs to be in total control. Only, he's obnoxious about it. Even Tess rolls her eyes when he gets going, both affectionate and annoyed.
She gets him, loves him, which makes Greg a lucky bastard. Removing my jacket and shoes, I follow Abby toward the noise; as always, there's a choice to make. In the kitchen I will find my mother, Tess, and probably Ted's fiancée. In the living room I will find Dad, Greg, Ted, and Seth. It's a no-brainer. "Kitchen, pumpkin."

"I know," she replies frankly. "You
gotta meet my new friend. Her name is
not
easy to say."

I smile down at the little whirlwind and roll up the sleeves of my
gray button-down.

W
e reach the kitchen, and it's a familiar sight. Mom and Tess by the stove, Ted's fiancée—Jessica—pulling something from the fridge; well, I assume. The fridge door is blocking my view, so all I can see are a pair of pink ballet flats. And lastly, the scents permeating the air are enough to make any man's stomach growl.

"Darling!" Mom's the first one to spot me, and she gives me a bright smile as she walks over to me
, her reddish-brown curls bouncing. While my brothers have inherited her Irish features, I look just like my dad. Darker hair, blue eyes, and a skin tone that doesn’t turn lobster red in the sun. Dutifully, I dip down so she can peck my cheek; then I return with a kiss to her forehead. "You're almost late, I'll have you know."

I wink. "Emphasis on almost."

"Abby, what have I told you about opening the door without asking us first?" Tess is busy fussing over my niece, but she gives me a quick smile in greeting.

Just as I'm about to ask what's for dinner, the fridge door closes, and I see th
at it's sure as hell not my brother's fiancée standing there.
What in the…?
Not another blonde with the perfect Stepford appearance. No, this one's a petite, curvy brunette. One I distinctly remember flogging last night. One I restrained while her boyfriend fucked her.

My eyes grow wide
, but I note that hers don’t. She doesn’t look shocked one goddamn bit. There's guilt instead. Written all over her too-fucking-beautiful face. Which can only mean she somehow knew.

Knew what?

Knew I was coming. That I'm me. That the favorite uncle Abby always raves about is
me
.

"Oh, that’s right," Tess mutters with an apologetic
smile. "You two have met." My eyebrows rise. Next she cups Mom's elbow and says, "Let's leave Mark and Evangeline for a moment. They need to catch up."

"Evangel…" Mom trails off, confused.
"You know each other?" Her question goes unanswered as she disappears from the kitchen with Tess and Abby.

I
tense up, despising being left in the dark, and shoot Evangeline a stare that's hard enough to make her fidget and shrink. No longer wearing fetish clothes in latex, but dressed modestly in black pants and a form-fitting soft pink cardigan. Submissive and lovely as ever. Apparently also dishonest. Hard limit of mine.

"Speak, Evangeline," I grit out quietly.

Her eyes well up rapidly. "I'm
so
sorry." Voice almost breaking, she takes a breath and bites down on her quivering lip. "I really am, Sir—um, Mark." My name on her lips sounds weird but not unwelcome. "I wish I, or we, had an excuse, but there isn't one. I was gonna tell you last night, but I chickened out."

I r
aise a brow, hands on my hips. "You were going to tell me what, exactly?" Anger continues to boil up inside me.

"That I knew who you were before…"
Before last night, Sir. Before you flogged me. Before you restrained my legs and spread them for Brayden's cock.

My jaw ticks and I fight the urge to growl like some savage animal. The sounds of Abby's laughter and family members talking about whatever filters through, reminding me that this isn't the time or place for…
for what?
Shouting at Evangeline for omitting the truth? For taking her over my knees and turning her ass red? For having a sub at my brother's house?

All of the above.

"Tess," I say flatly, nodding once to myself, and look down for a moment. Evangeline must've heard of me through Tess. I've never made my lifestyle a secret because I'm not ashamed of it. My family knows. And my brothers tolerated it when I was married to Alexa. Maybe because she could play both parts—mainly the part of a Stepford wife, which mattered to them. They never saw her as a woman I'd whip or gag occasionally. They saw pristine, blonde, perfect. But, regardless, the only ones who accept it now are my parents—given their own alternative lifestyle, it'd be strange if they didn’t—and Tess.

"Yeah. Tess, um, she recommended the club." Evangeline sounds closer now, so I look up
and there she is. Right in front of me, looking vulnerable, remorseful, and guilt-ridden. "I accidentally let it slip one day that my boyfriend and I were looking for, ah…" A blush spreads over her cheeks. "Something different, something else—that’s more for us." I assume Tess and Evangeline know each other from before a simple babysitting gig, then. Though, at first glance I have to wonder what they could possibly have in common. "We met at our book club." Book club. Got it. One might wonder how they go from discussing books to BDSM, though. But what the hell do I know? "And she told me about you—that you work at Switch, and that you're a Dom."

I find that hard to believe. "If you're telling me Tess sent you and Brayden to me, I'm not buying it."
Tess can be casual and free-spirited, but not to the point where she'd send an acquaintance or whatever to be topped by her brother-in-law.

"Oh! No. No, no." She shakes her head. "Tess just recommended the club. She said that since you work there, it had to be good. A trustworthy place. So, Brayden and I went last night—as you know," she chuckles nervously
and wrings her hands awkwardly. "But, I mean, we didn’t seek you out." I can tell that my even thinking that would cause Evangeline stress. There's a tremor of need in her voice. Need to be believed. "After we filled out the form—the one for first-timers?"

I nod in acknowledgement. It's
required for everyone who hasn't been to Switch before to read through the club restrictions and so on. Then you're in the database for a year—before you have to go through it again, unless you're a member.

"Yeah, so, after that, we looked around for a bit and…" A small shrug and a scrunch of her nose.
Cute
. "We decided to try the St. Andrew's Cross." And look how that turned out. "That DM, Master Hill?"
Simon
. "He interrupted—paused the scene to get someone who could guide us through it properly." That someone turned out to be me. "When he came back, he mentioned a few things about what we were doing wrong, and then he said, 'Master Cooper will assist you. You'll refer to him as Sir.' Then he checked my bindings and left right before you entered." She swallows, her words coming slower, as if the urgency has left her. "There was barely any time for me to react." Her eyes turn beseeching, tugging at me uncomfortably. "He said Cooper—Tess's last name,
your
last name—and I nearly freaked."

Averting my gaze, brows knitting together, I do recall the almost panicked look in Evangeline's eyes when I entered their stall.

"But you came in right after," she adds quietly. "I didn’t know what to do, and…to be honest, I was selfish." Her shoulders slump. Defeat, perhaps. "I wanted this so badly—Brayden did, too."

Well, I appreciate her honesty. I just wish it'd come sooner. A
lot
sooner. With an absent nod from me, I acknowledge what she's said, but I don’t really know what to say in return. Like I've mentioned, this isn't the time or place. Plus, we all fuck up at times, right? The anger drains out of me; I sigh, not really thinking, either. But I still detest dishonesty.

One glance at the timer above the stove tells me we only have another three minutes and thirty-four seconds before dinner is ready.

"I'm so, so sorry, Mark," she whispers. "What you gave us exceeded our wildest dreams, and then I just chickened out. I should've told you. I'm sorry—"

"Enough
, Evangeline," I say with a tired chuckle. "I believe you." That’s the truth. And while I have a question or ten, I don’t want to ask them at my brother's house. "You can stop apologizing now." I reach out and squeeze her shoulder gently, lingering. The relief rolls off her, causing the wryness in my smile to vanish. More genuine. "You little troublemaker."

Her
round, dark eyes brighten. "I want you to know that Brayden and I are willing to take your punishment. Anything to make you forgive us."

Oh, is that a fact?
That amuses me for sure. It also intrigues me, lures me in, and turns my thoughts into something far less than proper. Downright indecent. There's no end to the possibilities. Having been in the lifestyle since I was nineteen, I'm pretty fucking creative.

"You're very naïve, kitten—you know that?" I murmur and pull her close to my body. Her breathing hitches, eyes widening in wonder and ex
citement. A pinch of fear, too. Perfect. "So eager to throw yourself into the lion's den. Some would call that stupid."

She gulps.

I lean down and slide my nose along her jaw. "Do you even have the slightest idea how I punish my subs?" I whisper in her ear. My fingers curl around her wrists, tightening swiftly.
Like cuffs
. Some think that just because I'm a boisterous and carefree bartender, I'm one of the nicer Doms. Big mistake. "Remember when we talked about edgeplay last night?" Like she'd ever forget. A shallow breath, a quick nod—yeah, she remembers. "That’s my game, kitten." Fire play, erotic asphyxiation…intense scenes that last for days, humiliation, pushing limits fearlessly. "It's what I do." Not with a newbie; that goes without saying. But it's what I ultimately want. Alexa allowed some of it—not most of it. It's all about making compromises. "But you don’t like pain, do you?" Now I'm taunting her.

"I—" She's all breathless now. I fucking love it. "I d-don’t know enough about it."

Good girl. She was listening to what I said last night. With her reply, she's also saying that she's open to try.

"So, you'd let me punish you?" Gripping her hips forcefully, I push my hardening cock into her soft stomach. The timer says I
have one minute left. But that’s enough to envision two willing bodies at my mercy—much like I dreamed about last night. Fuck, I woke up panting this morning, sweaty and tangled in my sheets. Flashes of Evangeline and Brayden. The three of us. I'd ordered Evangeline to spread her legs, then told Brayden to get on all fours and eat her out. Meanwhile, I was behind Brayden, ready to prepare him for me. Stretching him using my tongue and fingers, lastly taking his tight ass with my cock.

Inch. By. Inch.