Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I chuckled. “No, I’m an outsider, Noa. An outsider who has no desire to find a way in.” I could tell I’d confused him, so I backtracked, because I was evidently airing all my thoughts to a twentysomething-year-old I’d met last night. “I just got out of a marriage older than you are. I come out here, to the biggest playground for kink I’ve ever seen, and I see love everywhere.” I paused, thinking of the briefest way to explain the impression Tate unknowingly bestowed upon me. “When I befriended Tate this summer, he shared bits and pieces, some stories vague, some not, but I gathered most of them belonged to his friends in this community. He absolutely loves this place. So does Kingsley. And I can see why. You can’t hide the open arms with black paint and ghostly spotlights.”
Noa’s forehead creased. “You don’t wanna be at a place that’s welcoming?”
“No, I do…” I frowned to myself. Perhaps this was a bad idea. My thoughts and realizations were still settling. I didn’t know exactly what I felt. “I think—I think I’m wary of attachments. I don’t want to feel anything at the moment. I’ve just broken free from one set of chains. I don’t want to risk finding myself confined anytime soon. It’s not even on the horizon.”
He scratched his nose and grinned a little. “Who’s stopping you from having limitless fun? Will you catch feelings for Master Kingsley by cuddling with him?”
I let out a laugh. “No, I don’t think so. No matter how ridiculously attracted I am to him, I don’t think I’m capable of forming deeper feelings for him—or anyone else—right now.”
“So you want your own guest room, why? This is where old people gotta complicate things so damn much. Just do what you want. Kingsley and Tate aren’t looking for a third. They’re not gonna trap you or anything.” He shrugged. “Instead of worrying about boundaries to distance yourself from things you don’t want, focus on what you do want and just do that.”
He made it sound so simple.
Life was never simple.
Right?
“What do you want?” he asked. “If Kingsley or Tate offered you one of their invites to become a member here, what would you want this kinky playground to be for you?”
“Just that,” I replied. “A playground. A place to meet other men, to explore fetishes, and to have fun. I don’t wish to answer to anyone outside of playtime.”
“That’s literally the purpose of this funhouse, Gramps.” He smirked at me. “Some want all that within the confines of their relationship, some don’t. If you come out here and see love everywhere like it’s some obstacle course, that’s on you.”
Damn it. The boy rattled me with his easy manner. Was he right? Was I overthinking things?
“Aren’t most members here part of a dynamic?” I asked hesitantly. “Tate made it sound like everyone here was either looking for love or already struck by Cupid.”
Noa snorted softly. “Does it matter what others do? And maybe Tate’s focus has been on love because he’s missed Kingsley so much. You should stick around and form your own opinion.” He wasn’t wrong about that. “For the record, a dynamic can have any level of commitment you want. You’re in a dynamic with Kingsley and Tate if you meet up every now and then to play. Doesn’t mean you’re together-together, if you know what I mean.”
That was the problem. This was brand-new to me. In my world, men and women got married for life, had occasional affairs with tennis instructors and nannies, and if a divorce occurred, the man remarried someone half his age, and the woman sought out boy toys for fun while hunting down her next ex-husband.
I hated my world. I’d left it for more than one reason.
What Noa had told me was foreign, yet so very tempting. To think, I could have a casual dynamic with Kingsley and Tate, all while I was free to be with others? Could Kingsley and Tate be interested in such an affair with me? It sounded too good to be true.
Things were still up in the air where Tate and I were concerned, so it was too soon to guess—or get my hopes up.
Noa yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I should get some more sleep before work. And you should sleep because you’re old, Franklin.”
I grinned tiredly. “Are you trying to push my buttons?”
“Maybe—and your age evidently doesn’t trigger anything,” he muttered and stood up. “Go be someone’s fuck toy if that’s what you want. You can star in your own love story when your hair is white and you need diapers.”
Sweet child. That didn’t work either.
He said something I liked, though. I could star in my own love story when I was ready, and this wasn’t it. The only love I was interested in was my budding obsession with sex, filth, and pleasure.