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In retrospect, I didn’t think I would have found myself in an open relationship with him if he hadn’t been so respectful of my boundaries in the first place. I was glad for him every day, but as the adrenaline shot through my spine at the prospect of finding a new hookup for the night, I was even more thankful he’d come into my life. Travis was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love and a thousand different kinds of fun.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked.
I hadn’t forgotten I was on the phone, but I’d been so focused on getting to the loft that I’d gone silent. Stopping at the base of the stairs, I leaned back against the wall and raised the phone so we were at eye level, even if there were thousands of miles and three time zones between us.
“I don’t know.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I’d resigned myself to calling it an early night at the hotel until you said otherwise.”
“You don’t have to if you aren’t into it.”
I glanced up the stairs, the sound of leather against skin cracking out above the conversation and the bass drum of the music on the dance floor.
“I’m into it,” I assured him.
Travis grinned and folded one of his arms behind his head to prop himself up.
“Did you want to watch?” I asked.
I couldn’t hear the groan he let out, but it vibrated against my palm and the expression on his face was as much of a yes as the actual nod that followed.
“You love it,” I said.
Another nod.
“You love watching me fuck other people right in front of you, don’t you, Travis?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.” I pushed off the wall and headed up the stairs. “Let’s see what we can find.”
Rapture seemed like the kind of place where I’d be able to find the kind of encounter we were after, but it was always a fine line for us. For as open-minded as kinky people tended to be, so many of them felt uncomfortable with the idea of cuckolding. It was rare that Travis and I were able to engage in it in the ways we both liked, but this was LA and I was hopeful we were going to get lucky.
Literally.
I was already half hard by the time I reached the landing for the loft, and I tore my stare away from Travis’s flushed face to scan my surroundings. All the way down at the other end of the space I could see the back of Owen’s bleached curls and Archie’s close-cropped brown hair. They were all together with Archie’s friends watching a couple put on quite a show against a bench in the corner.
“It smells like sex up here,” I told Travis. “Sex and leather and whiskey.”
“Sounds like a wet dream.”
“Come with me next time I come to check on Owen,” I said.
He grumbled, tired and undoubtedly unhappy to be so far from the action.
“I love you,” I promised him.
“I love you,” he said. “Find anyone good yet?”
I stopped in front of one of the open playroom doors, debating if upstairs was the best place to look or if I would have to venture back down to the dance floor, let someone feel me up and grind against me to get the figurative juices flowing.
“Not sure.”
I slipped into the playroom, a decent sized space about the dimensions of a large primary bedroom, with an armoire in one corner, a small sink, a black leather couch, and a basic looking bed. There was a purple light in the ceiling that made the whole place look like a strip club, which for some reason made me laugh. I sat down on the couch and propped the phone up so I could talk to Travis. Even with the door open, it was considerably quieter than the rest of the club, but my ears rang anyway.
“You okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“I am,” I said quickly.
The shitty kiss with Flynn had thrown me off, and I was feeling entirely out of my element, but I figured with a quick reset I would be good to go. I wanted to do this. I wanted to hook up, and cuck Travis, and then stumble back to the hotel and sleep until lunch time.
