Page 43 of Coiled Tight
Two things were going my way today:
1) Damian was exactly how I’d pictured a recluse hacker to look like: rectangle glasses that glinted when he turned around and a lean body because Saúl had mentioned his monster of a house also had a home gym when I’d filled a new bout of silence with a bazillion questions about our host.
2) None of my catastrophic thoughts about wrecking the truck had come to life.
I hadn’t opened my mouth again about anything that could compromise my stability as a worker in Saúl’s family’s sanctuary, either. Or asked anything else that would make me the most hated person by HR if we had anything like a department of human resources.
I’d wrinkled my nose when I first learned we didn’t because HR always seemed like a good idea.
Now, I was very glad.
I was also trying to picture what kind of Dom Saúl’s friend was. They were giving each other one of those manly hugs I’d always sucked at because I either tended to linger orfelt too uncomfortable because the other person was rather aggressive about it.
So, I was focusing on his existence as a Dom, which obviously tracked. He had to be the quiet type. Maybe even the kind who wore a suit and made it all about high protocol and respecting the history of kink. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a graphic T-shirt for trans rights, but I could see him rocking a suit.
He had the perfect height for it.
“Cam, right?” Damian looked down at me when he disentangled from Saúl. He had an overgrown mullet that went down his shoulders, and bangs that were actually cared for. “Saúl said you’re the new vet.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed before my nerves overcame this, and I fucked up by letting out nervous laughter because he had to know more about me after Saúl’s offer to— “Thanks for having me here.”
I swallowed again. Shocking absolutely everyone in a five-mile radius, I’d made it this far without thinking too hard about it.
Damian’s playroom.
Saúl’s words.
If Iwanted, we could talk about using it. About negotiating a scene, I assumed, even though the words hadn’t been said explicitly.
Damian’s only requirement was watching.
I didn’t mind having a voyeur or two, but that was the wrong thing to focus on.
Unlike with Damian, I couldn’t get a read on the type of Dom Saúl was. I couldn’t tell why that was, either, only that it frustrated the hell out of me. Why couldn’t he fit into any of the stereotypes I was more than familiar with?
I’d teased him about being a mean Daddy, and I guessed he had the elements for it, but I didn’tknow. I didn’t knowthat I could picture him as a Sadist, either. I didn’t think he played soft, though. Not after what he’d said about not being able to trust a sub with impact until they’d known each other for longer. No one who only cared about a soft spanking would say that.
I had a feeling he was the nurturing kind of Sadist that lulled you into a sense of safety, but then you ended up with deep bruises that lasted a month. The one who talked you through it and cooed you into taking more because you were doing so well.
Maybe he was the quiet type, too, though, just like I was assuming Damian was. I could also see him playing the soft music I heard sometimes from his office and setting up a cadence with whatever he was using.
Ugh.
This was really HR-inappropriate.
“A friend of Saúl is a friend of mine.” I sucked in air. Was that a twinkle in his eye? “You look beat on your ass. How about you two unpack, take a shower? I’ll have dinner delivered by then. Any allergies?”
“Um. No.” I remembered to shake my head in case my voice came across too meek. It felt that way. “Thanks.”
“Come on. As you can see, he’s a terrible host.”
At least Saúl made it easy to tell when he was joking, his tone belying the laughter he was hiding.
Would he be the kind of Sadist who turned things into a game? That made it seem fun?
I wrinkled my nose. I liked those deep bruises and all the things that came from a paddle or a flogger or anything else—unlike most, I didn’t have a preference to the kind of impact I enjoyed—but I didn’t like the Sadists that laughed while shit was happening.
“You think too loud,” Saúl said.
