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Friday, September 2
Robert finished his bottle of beer, set it down on the porch table, and peered at Teague. “You’re not just here to shoot the breeze, are you?” Teague didn’t seem agitated or restless, but Robert knew his foreman. Their Friday night beers on the porch routine had come to an end once Toby had moved in, but Robert figured that was because Teague was giving them space.
Teague chuckled. “Not exactly.” He turned his head toward the door. “Where’s Toby?”
“Working, but he said he’ll be down in a minute. We’ve had some more bookings. For the BDSM ranch,” he added.
Teague grinned. “That’s awesome. By the way, I love what you called it.” His eyes sparkled. “Deliverance. Course, the first thing that came to mind was those damn banjos. That movie might be as old as Methuselah, but play that tune andeveryoneknows exactly where it comes from.”
He laughed. “It was Toby’s idea, and I said the same thing.” He gestured to the pail filled with bottles nestling in ice. “Want another?”
“Sure.”
Robert took one, popped the cap, and handed it to him. “Okay… what’s on your mind?”
“It’s more of an FYI kinda thing, to be honest.” Teague took a long drink. “You remember a conversation we had back in June? You were concerned that if thethingI had going with Butch—thatwasthe word you used, right? —went belly up, it might affect us working together.”
“I do recall the conversation.”
He took another drink. “Well, you can stop being concerned. It’s over.”
Robert blinked. “Oh. This a recent thing?”
“Yup. Two weeks ago, to be exact.”
“No bad feelings, I hope.”
Teague shook his head. “I was the one who called a halt, but it was what they call an amicable split. We just came to the end of the road, that’s all. And so far, everything’s just fine. At least, I think it is. Butch and me, we’re still on speaking terms, and he isn’t giving me dirty looks.”
“Thanks for letting me know. And thanks for all your help with the photos for the website.” Robert smiled. “Looks as if you all had some fun.”
“If anything, it’s made me curious to see who turns up. How many guests so far?”
“If I remember rightly, we’ve got three couples, a throuple—”
“A what?”
Robert laughed. “Three guys.”
Teague frowned. “But how does that work? I mean, with BDSM. Who does what, exactly?” He rolled his eyes. “And I’m not talking about what goes on in the sack—that part Iamfamiliar with—more the… dynamic? That was Sol’s word.”
Robert counted off on his fingers. “It could be a Dom with two submissives, or a Dom and a sub, with a voyeur…”
“Someone who just likes to watch?” Robert nodded, and Teague shook his head once more. “Takes all sorts, I guess.”
“You know, some guys—even straight guys—like sessions with a Dom that don’t include sex.”
Teague’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a thing? Why would they do that?”
“They’re into it for physical stimulation, stress relief, like flogging, restraints, but their bits and pieces are out of bounds.”
Teague cackled. “And there you go, talkin’ all coy again. Dude, sometimes you are such a paradox. But back to your… throuple… Any other permutations I should be aware of?”
“It could be a Dom, a sub, and a switch.”
Teague chuckled. “The only switch I know is the one my daddy used to take to my butt when I was a kid, and I’m sure that isn’t what you’re talking about.” He bit his lip. “Well,prettysure.”
Robert opened another bottle of beer and took a drink. “A switch is basically someone who’s happy to swap between being a Dom or a sub during sex.”
