Page 144 of Kneeling to Candy

There are a few snickers, but they stop when they see me glaring. Sub or not, I will beat the shit out of them if they test me.

“Sounds kind of hot, to be honest,” Stage admits nonchalantly to himself. His eyes go wide, realizing he admitted it out loud. He waves his hands out in front of him, doing damage control. “Not for me. But happy for you, bro.”

“See?” Punk waves a hand at our group. “No one cares. Not me. Not the crew. Pretty sure Ziggy already knew, with the way his mouth is hanging open in shock.”

Ziggy’s mouth slams shut with an audible chomp. His eyes are as wide as I assume mine are. “You knew?”

Punk shrugs with a sly grin before chuckling hard at Ziggy. “Sort of pieced it together prior, but you confirmed it. Dude! Way to out your bestie like that. As a member of the LGBTQIA+, you should know better.”

“It wasn’t intentional.” Ziggy flicks off Punk. “Bite me, asshole.”

“Not my thing, Zig. And I’m pretty sure Jared would have your and my nads if I tried biting anything of yours.”

Having enough of Punk’s shit, Ziggy drops his gear and charges Punk, tackling him in the snow. The two wrestle around, laughing at each other as they fight to be top dog. The crew is egging them on. Typical behavior for our family. Punk’s laughing too hard to win, letting Ziggy finish him with a proper face wash in the snow.

“Wait.” Tank scratches his head, his face contorted in confusion. “Butch is a sub? Like for real? Candy wasn’t acting earlier?”

All my brothers roll their eyes, some chuckle. Tank can be obtuse at times. The guy is pure alpha and probably can’t wrap his head around letting another person take control of him in bed. Ebony is going to have her hands full if she agrees to more than a situationship with him.

Reaper pats him on the back, smiling through his scraggly beard. “Try to keep up, buddy.”

Out of all my brothers, Tank is the newest in the club. We haven’t had a ton of one-on-one interaction, making his reaction to learning about me uncertain.

To my shock, he asks, “What’s it like submitting? I’m not knocking it. I’m trying to understand if it’s something me and Eb would like.”

Ziggy scoffs, brushing the snow off himself. “Tank, you asshat. You can’t go asking intimate questions like that in public. At least pull the man aside to ask in private.”

“Yeah,” Punk mocks, trying to fight his smile. “Buy him a beer first to butter him up.”

“What’s to hide? It’s only family,” Tank counters back, waving his hand around our team. “I’m curious. It’s why I’m asking, Butch. No one else here is admitting to doing it. How else am I going to learn about it?”

“Google is free, dude,” Chase chides Tank.

At this point I could still retreat, deny what they all automatically assume. I can continue to hide in my bubble and be miserable for not being myself with my family. We’d all know the truth and live with the illusion I’m not a submissive to mollify my fragile ego. Or I can man up, come clean, and be free.

This matter involves not only me. I look down at my bride in my embrace, bruised and roughed up, yet still looking more gorgeous than any other woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Candy looks back at me, a small smile on her round face. She gives me a tiny nod, consenting.

Swallowing my fears, I turn my attention back to my brothers and take the leap.

“For me, it’s ecstasy. We—as in all of us in this crew—have to be in control twenty-four-seven for this job. At the end of the day, I want someone else to decide. Candy likes to call the shots, and I’m more than willing to let her.”

My brothers remain silent, letting my words sink in.

Tank rubs at the back of his neck, looking uncertain—not with me, but with himself.

“I’ve let Jo take control of me in the bedroom before,” Atlas admits nonchalantly, taking all of us by surprise.

Gauge groans, running a hand down his face. “Atlas, how many times have I told you to stop oversharing what you and Jo do in the bedroom?”

Atlas waves off our VP. “Jo won’t care about me squealing about how I sometimes let her restrain me to the headboard, bro. Tank and Jo are all buddy-buddy anyway. If he doesn’t hear it from me, he’ll hear it from her eventually.”

Punk clamps his hands over his ears. “La, la, la, la. I can’t hear you. Quick, say whatever you need to, and spare me the details.”

My brothers push in, eager to learn more. Prez is a micromanaging control freak in all areas. Admitting he occasionally submits to his wife is jaw-dropping news.

Baffled, I lean back against the stone fence Candy and I stand next to, keen to hear whatever Atlas will say on the matter.

“It’s not like I let Jo tie me up all the time, only when she’s had a shit day. When she’s overwhelmed, letting her take the wheel in bed gives her some of that control she lost throughout the day.” Atlas shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “Jo loves driving me crazy, especially when I’m unable to take her the way I want.”

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