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Down the goddamn rabbit hole, that was where.
He knew more now than he’d known that morning, and all of it made his head spin. On an impulse, he’d searched for the website for Toby’s former club in San Francisco, and while there was a huge section dealing with kinks—andholy fuck, there were a lot of them—there was an equally large one that dealt with what went on behind the scenes.
LMAO. Scenes. That’s funny.
He’d learned about SSC, starting with looking it up to find out what the letters stood for. One glance at the last word of the acronym brought Race to mind, and that had made him smile.
Safe, Sane, Consensual. You’d have approved of that, dude.
He’d read through the bit on aftercare, and then he’d found his way into a part all about contracts. There appeared to be a lot more protocol than he’d realized—respecting boundaries, limits, stuff like that—and a section about informing a Dom of any allergies, medical conditions…
I had no idea.
He’d already realized there was more to BDSM than kinky sex—he had Toby and the boss to thank for that—but now he was seeing everything laid out, the practicalities, guidelines, concepts…
It was no good. He needed to talk to Sol.
He’s gotten me into something, and I’m not sure I wanna get out.
He wanted to know more, that was for damn sure.
Butch slipped out of the old barn and headed for the new one, steeling himself for whatever sight awaited him through those wide doors.
“Butch!”
Fuck. Teague.
He turned, pasting on a smile he certainly didn’t feel. “Hey.”
“You got a minute?” Teague strode toward him.
No, I do not. I’ve gotta see a man and get a shit ton of questions answered.
“Sure.” He kept his tone light, leaning against the paddock fence.
Teague caught up with him. “Paul said you went for a ride.”
He arched his eyebrows. “You got a problem with that? I didn’t have any chores to do.”
“That’s right, you didn’t. But because you hightailed it outta the bunkhouse so fast after breakfast, you missed a really interesting conversation.” Teague’s eyes gleamed. “Well,Ifound it interesting.”
Something in that glint set an alarm bell ringing.
“Do tell.”
Teague folded his arms. “You weren’t in your bed last night.”
Butch smirked at him. “You got cameras installed in there or something?”
“Nope, but when I get nods and winks about how little sleep I must’ve gotten, I put two and two together.”
Aw fuck.
“So I wasn’t in my bed last night. Big deal. As far as I know, I’m not under a curfew, and there ain’t no rule about where I choose to lay my head.” He managed a teasing tone.
“The deal, as you put it, is that you were in someone else’s bed, and I think I know whose.” Teague straightened. “You found a new friend to play with—except he’s an old friend, isn’t he?”
“None of your business.” Butch fought to remain cool.
