Prowl (The Game #12) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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One of those old factories near the waterfront was where I rented my workshop.

I took the industrial elevator to the third floor and dug out my keys. It’d been months since I’d been here, so I would need to get everything up and running. The upside of high ceilings and enormous vaulted windows was of course the natural light, not to mention the grand view of the water outside, but…it came at a cost too. In the winter months, the place never got warm enough. Despite that the electric bill skyrocketed because I kept my portable heater on at all hours.

I unlocked the heavy sliding door and pushed it open, and I took a deep breath as the scents of oil, wood, and leather washed over me.

So many nights had I spent here when Macklin and I had neared our demise.

Being with others won’t diminish our love for each other.

“Christ.” My gut grew uncomfortably tight.

No. Focus on the distraction. I was here. I’d deal with Macklin later.

The sky outside the big windows was gray and gloomy, so I flicked on the lights in the ceiling and shut the door behind me.

This place was always alive. Focus, focus. I knew the painter next to me was obsessed with Stevie Nicks. A metalworker downstairs filled the factory with muted clanking noises. The two Japanese artists above my space worked with sculptures, and that was never a quiet affair.

I had contributed to plenty of noise over the years too. After setting down my grocery bag, I veered right to rip the sheets off my glasswork station. Except for the furnace and the annealer—I didn’t keep those covered. I eyed the shelves with my modest collection of glass toys that hadn’t been sold yet. Dildos, beads, and bondage decorations gleamed in the light. The workbench was cleared. I ran a hand over the smooth surface, wondering if maybe I should host a glass-toy demo soon.

The market had been oversaturated with cheap crap for years, resulting in a controversy around the entire kink. These days, it was safer to say that glass toys weren’t recommended. Because most people didn’t want to spend a couple hundred bucks on a dildo, even if it was actually guaranteed not to break inside your asshole.

I shook my head to myself and wandered across the studio to my main workbench. I uncovered the lathe and the 3D-printer, too, and tossed the sheets in a corner. My work with leather and wood took up most of the space, in comparison to my other hobbies.

The wall above the bench was where all my floggers, whips, and paddles hung. I had a nice selection of canes too. Macklin wasn’t the biggest fan of those.

I drew my fingers between the strands of a thick flogger. I would have to treat these a bit. Leather only got better if you used it.

All right, last station. Along the wall with the windows, I pulled away the final sheets from the equipment I used to sculpt my molds for silicone toys. I had all the supplies in case Ty wanted a demo.

Last time I’d created a thick silicone sleeve for playing with Macklin, he’d loved the bluish-black color I’d made it in, and I knew I had a note here somewhere so I could blend that exact color again. He wanted his tentacles dark and glossy with a paler underside, either in blue or pink, where the suction cups sat.

I was eager to start. It was so damn easy to get swept away in here, but Ty would arrive in about ten minutes, so I should at least fill the fridge first. I grabbed the groceries and ducked into the “office” between the glasswork station and the silicone tables. Why I still called it an office I had no idea. It’d been called an office on the blueprints, but I’d never used it as one. A big mattress took up half the space, and behind a curtain, I had a safety shower station, a toilet, and a small fridge.

I left my coat and suit jacket in here after stowing away the groceries, and then I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and brought the portable heater to the workbench. I switched on the speakers too and found a playlist on my phone.

Damn, I’d missed a text from Ty.

I’m outside. I take it you’re McKenna Studio on 3?

Just as my fingers flew over the keys to respond, I heard the heavy door squeak and creak.

I grinned as Ty poked his head in.

“Zero security around here, man—what the fuck? I just walked right in.”

I chuckled. “You try havin’ a conversation about security with a bunch of free-spirited millennials, I dare you.”

He laughed and walked in, and I helped him shut the door.

With him came a delicious smell of melted cheese and oregano.


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