Jordan huffed.
“Instead of a brat talking about rules, maybe it’s a makeup artist knowledgeable about dress codes,” Nathan offered.
I furrowed my brow. “Whose side are you on?”
“In this case? His.” Without giving me time to respond, he folded his arms over his chest and turned to James and a smug Jordan. “While you two get changed, we want to know if there’s anything sexual that’s off-limits. We won’t do anything risky tonight—like asphyxiation or higher levels of pain from whips and canes and so on—but if there’s something you haven’t told us yet, do so now.”
“I might want my hand around your throat, but I won’t apply pressure,” I clarified. “And Jordan, you’ve said you love spanking.”
“So much.” He nodded eagerly. “I like crying from spanking. That’s a good cry.”
I smiled. We could make that happen, even more so if he flashed his smug grin my way again.
“James?” Nate walked over to him and actually took over, undoing his belt. “Is there anything Ash and I can’t do to you?”
James ducked his gaze a little. “I can’t think of anythin’, Sir. I’m not much into pain, but you already know that.” Right, because Jordan was good at communicating. “I’m here to please you.”
Good time for him to read his own text to us, then.
That would please me.
I handed over my phone to Nate, who unlocked it and found the message.
“Read it out loud,” he commanded quietly.
James released a breath.
In the meantime, Jordan jumped into his black onesie jammies. No animal ears this time, just a hood. But what I noticed the most was the hesitation in his expression. Was he withholding something?
“Jordan?” I tilted my head.
He made eye contact and chewed on his lip.
Hmm. Definitely something.
I nodded to the Finlay bed, silently telling him to come with me. James could read to Nate.
Ten feet away, I sat down on the edge of the bed, and Jordan shuffled closer with reluctance lacing every step.
“Is there something you wanna tell me, sweetheart?”
He pouted and slumped down next to me. “Maybe, but it’s embarrassing.”
I rubbed his back soothingly, waiting him out. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?
“James says I have to tell you,” he whispered.
“Is it something I should know?” I murmured.
He made a face and nodded.
“Then let’s listen to James just this once.”
My joke fell flat, and he hugged my arm, seemingly only so he could hide his face by pressing it against my bicep. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t even begin to guess.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, Jordan.”
“Ohhh!” he whined. Huffed a little too. “I…I don’t like to swallow.”
