Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Looks to me like you’ve been in touch with Narcotics Anonymous in the UK.
Yup. Called it. Wait—in the UK? N.A.
Uh.
I sat up straighter and scratched my nose. “N.A could also stand for Nathan and Ash in the UK.”
Ash looked at me like he sometimes looked at the math problems in Dylan’s homework.
I raised my brows. “The Marine we hooked up with in London? You exchanged numbers.”
He snapped his fingers, realization dawning on him, and he went back to typing. “We fucking did.”
Then he showed it to me.
Possibly a long shot, but did you hook up with a couple whose names start with N and A in the UK?
What was his name—Kane, something. Kris? No—Kyle. Kyle.
As hot as that evening had been, Kyle mustn’t have made the cut last time Ash bought a new phone.
“He texted.” Ash showed me Kyle’s response and chuckled.
The kinky Americans. Fond fucking memories. How the hell are ya? Still together? You’re not in New York by any chance?
I snorted and lay back down on his shoulder.
Ash opted to speak out loud what he wrote back.
“Fine as hell. Definitely together. But no, we’re not in New York. We settled down with two kids outside DC. How many ‘Who dis’ texts have you sent tonight?”
I chuckled drowsily.
Another yawn slipped out, and I closed my eyes.
Ash kissed the side of my head and rubbed a hand down my arm.
It was going to be impossible not to fall asleep in his arms…in the next ten or so minutes. Maybe five. Maybe two.
“I’ll wake you up in a bit, baby.”
Perfect.
“He replied, by the way,” he chuckled. “Eighteen fucking times, he’s asked people who they are. He swears he’s just cleaning out his phone.”
I hummed. “Sounds like he’s terrible at naming people in his contact list.”
“Or he gets around that much.”
That too.
“Didn’t he mention in London he had a kinky brother?”
Fuck, who could remember? “Maybe. I don’t know. Why?”
“He mentioned him again. Said maybe we’d crossed paths since we run in the same circles—he lives in the area. I’ve heard of Mclean House.”
I cracked one eye open and peered up at him. “Kyle’s brother is a member there?”
“I guess so. Well, Kyle said Mclean-something.”
I nodded and closed my eyes again. “Mclean House is on the list I gave you of communities that cater more to Sadists and rough play.”
From what I could tell, they didn’t have much of a bondage community, but I wasn’t picky at this point. I just wanted us to get back to kink somehow. Ash was holding so much of himself back.
“It would be nice if we could at least go to a munch,” I said.
“I dare you to find time for that in our schedule.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes, had they been open…
We’d moved closer to our family for a damn reason. My folks could watch the kids whenever.
You’re a little too good at making me forget potential problems, love. That’s all I’m saying. Because when you come home from work with pizza and a new bundle of rope for us to “try out when the kids are asleep,” you can’t fucking expect me to hold a grudge or point out that you’re denying your own identity in kink.
Damn you.
We will circle back to this at some point, but okay, let me tie you up first.
CHAPTER 6
Five years ago
Arlington
Ash Riley
“I’m serious, Ash.”
I unlocked my truck and glanced at Nate over my shoulder. “About what?”
“The munch.”
I furrowed my brow and stopped. What he said didn’t make a lick of sense. He had to be joking.
He put on his shoes and closed the door behind himself—for a semblance of privacy, maybe. The kids were running berserk inside, with my mother trying to tame Hallie’s hair after her shower.
“If you wanna go, just go,” I said. I didn’t have time for that nonsense.
Nate’s jaw ticked with tension, and he walked closer, almost tripping over Dylan’s scooter.
It was poetic. He’d chosen our overgrown, messy front yard to lay into me? About a fucking munch?
“Six months ago when I became a member at Mclean House, you promised me you’d come with me to the next munch,” he told me. “Do you remember that?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s been five munches since then,” he finished.
I faced him and folded my arms over my chest. “Lemme get this straight. Our house is packed with wedding decorations, Ma’s running wild, we have guests flying in tomorrow… Two days before we get married in front of all our family and friends, and six days before we welcome home two new children—one of who needs medical care—you decide to get on my case about a goddamn munch?”
I was impressed. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he took a step closer, and he was dead serious.
“I’m not asking, Ash,” he said quietly. “It’s a condition. Or we’re not walking down the aisle.”