Chapter One
Jack
Wakingupnakedinbed with a woman on the morning of Christmas Eve should be a good thing. But when you wake up naked in bed with your ex-girlfriend who you haven’t spoken to in years, it doesn’t feel that good. The sun shining off the snow and into her bedroom window was enough to make me want to cry. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so hungover, and the second I opened my eyes, all the memories started flooding back. Seeing Kyra with that asshole, Mitch Campbell, and wanting to tear his fucking head off. The irrational jealousy that ran through me knew no bounds after what had to have been a case of beer. Then when I went to take a leak and found him forcing himself on her in the hallway, it was all over.
The next thing I knew, we were tearing each other’s clothes off, and I was tying her to the wrought iron headboard with her bra. I looked over, and sure enough, it was still hanging from the bars.
“Fuck,” I groaned as I ran my hands over my face. Kyra saw a side of me last night that I never intended for someone like her to see. Growing up a Saint in the small town of Whitewood, New York, meant I wasn’t supposed to be how I was. I know it didn’t make sense, but the idea of anyone finding out what me and my brothers were into was terrifying. Kane and Nick were going to kill me. Our lifestyle was one we kept to ourselves. The frequent trips we took to New York City for work allowed us to play away from home and now one drunken night may have ruined it all.
I pried my eyes open a little more, looking for my phone and when I shifted in the bed Kyra snuggled closer into my side. Damn, why did she have to feel so good up against me? Even after a night of truly amazing sex, she still smelled like cinnamon with a hint of vanilla and it made me want to lick her fucking pussy until she screamed, not crawl out of bed and do the walk of shame all the way to my parents for Christmas Eve dinner.
Against my cock’s better judgment, I tucked a pillow under her and slid out of bed, searching for my clothes, my phone, any sign that I came here with something more than my birthday suit, but I came up empty. That’s when I remembered we hadn’t started in here. I walked through her apartment and found the disaster we had left in our wake. Our clothes were thrown everywhere and I’m pretty sure I wrapped her panties around an empty vodka bottle sitting on the kitchen counter. That bottle was most likely why my head felt like shit. Liquor before beer, but never drink on an empty stomach, was what my dad used to say. Not only did I forget the eating part, but I drank beer first. All I had planned to do was stop by for a couple of drinks and then head home, but the second I saw Kyra that had all changed. Even though we lived in a small town, we rarely saw each other. It was by design. After years of breaking up and getting back together again, we finally learned the problem. It was us. Anytime we were around each other, we were drawn in and then we had zero self control.
“Well, I was looking for coffee, but that fine ass will do.” I turned to find her standing in the hallway in nothing but a nearly see through white t-shirt. I looked away before I grabbed her and never got out of here.
“I’m just trying to find my clothes and piece together the night,” I said as I pulled on my jeans, giving up the search for my boxers.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. However, one look in the mirror and my body could tell us most of what we did. I have a map of pretty markings across my skin.”
Fucking shit. I didn’t, did I?
I turned back to her and closed the space between us. “Kyra, I… I didn’t mean for things to go so far. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You weren’t the only one in that room last night Jack, there’s no need to feel guilty over what we did. Honestly, it was nice being with someone I know who could satisfy what I wanted, rather than looking for it elsewhere. You’re easier to trust than a stranger.”
“Wait, what?”
Kyra stepped out of my embrace and walked around me to the coffee pot. “You didn’t think that was the first time I played, did you?”
“Played? As in??”
“As in Kink, BDSM, impact play. Call it whatever you’d like, Jack, it’s clear you knew what you were doing.”
“How drunk were you?”
“Not nearly as drunk as you, but if you weren’t, then you never would have shown me what you could do.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. My bigger concern at the moment is what you mean by strangers? Kyra, what exactly has gone on in your life over the last few years?”
“I should ask you the same thing, Mr. Saint.”
My mind was a jumbled mess. My little Kyra Banks was telling me she was into kink and I never knew it. It made sense that I didn’t. How could I have known? But the idea of her playing with someone else, someone who could really hurt her, terrified me.
“How long?”
“About five years. I dated someone after college who was into experimenting with things, but when my needs far outweighed his, we broke up.”
“Do you have a Dom?”
“Not right now. I never would have been with you if I did. I play with others, but I am not in a committed relationship with anyone right now, and the poly lifestyle never appealed to me.”
I shook my head in disbelief as I sat on the couch and she handed me a cup of black coffee. I smiled when I realized she still remembered just how I like it. It wasn’t hard to remember a coffee order when I put nothing in it, but the thought of it was still comforting. Then I realized she probably knew other men’s coffee orders too, and it made me pissed all over again. I wasn’t a jealous man but something about Kyra always sparked it within me.
“Who do you—, never mind I don’t want to know who. Where do you play? I thought you still lived in Whitewood.”
“I do, but I have met others in the community who arrange parties. I go to them, pick the kink I’m interested in for the night, find a top, and play. It’s a win, win.”
“So you are with strangers.”
