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“Well, Toby, my soft limits are piss play—”
My eyes widened and so did his smile.
He continued, “—flogging, paddling or whipping—”
I frowned.
“—pastthe point of leaving visible marks.”
I nodded, appeased.
“—andextremeass play.”
“Hmm,” I said. “What counts as ‘extreme’ ass play?”
He smiled, as if he were asked that question every day. “You know. Gigantic toys, gaping, that kind of thing. I’m not into that.”
“Okay, fair. I don’t think I am, either.”
He raised an eyebrow, but I charged ahead.
“But what aboutnon-extremeass play? Like ‘just the right amount of fun’ ass play?”
“Oh, sweetheart. That’s one of my specialties.”
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
* * * *
We could hardly keep our hands off each other in the Uber.
I had made use of Alastair’s washer and dryer to clean the clothes I’d brought with me to Esther’s, but I didn’t have much. I wore my black ripped jeans, and a gray button-up that was too small for Alastair but fit me pretty well. I’d put on black eyeliner and gelled my hair.
He wore a pair of relaxed straight-legged jeans that showed off his angles and curves in a subtle but effective way and a white button-down under his wool coat. Going to Maverick Molly’s as anything but an employee was a bizarre experience. I hung up my jacket and headed into the games room with a swagger before Alastair had a chance to follow me.
The patrons regarded me with curiosity. I didn’t think they recognized me out of ‘uniform’. However, you could always count on Robin.
“Toby, what the fuck? What are you doing here? You’re not on tonight…”
“Shhh, I’m here with my boyfriend,” I stated as I passed by and headed for the bar. His chin dropped, and I noticed several of my regular customers tracking my ass in the snug jeans.
Sebastian stood at the bar, in the clothes of a Victorian gentleman, his blond hair in a ponytail, tapping the screen of the tablet used for orders and payments. He looked up as I approached.
“Well, hello! You don’t work until Monday, Toby.”
“Knock it off. We both know why I’m here,” I said.
A familiar pair of hands landed on my shoulders.
“Please excuse Mr. Dunn’s rudeness,” Alastair said benignly from behind me. “He’s very excited.”
“Hello, Mr. Kenney,” Sebastian said to Alastair. “Mr. Dunn.” He gazed at me with amusement.
“Hello, Sebastian,” Alastair said. “Good crowd tonight.”
“Saturdays never disappoint.”
“I was surprised the Bordello was free,” Alastair said.
