Page 11 of Lorcan
“Cheddar?”
I smiled. “I don’t know his real name—he introduced himself as Cheddar. He’s partial to jerky treats and scritches behind the ear.”
“Oh.” Lorcan held my gaze for a moment before looking away.
I wanted to ask him to tell me what he was thinking, but that felt too personal.
He sighed. “I want that. I don’t know how or why I know…I just know.”
“Then you can have it. No reason you can’t enjoy yourself. Whether you want to start in a club or in the privacy of your own home is another question. Both have risks and both have rewards.”
“Risks?”
“Well, being seen in public is a risk.”
“I don’t think anyone’s going to give a shit if the world finds out I like to put on ears and bark like a dog. The world already has a pretty dim view of me.” He bit his lip. “My new boss might not like it, though.”
Considering, I took another sip. “Exposure here is pretty damn rare. I’ve met several people who’ve been coming for years, and they’re hard-pressed to remember anyone who was outed. I meant more the risk to yourself. Of being that vulnerable. Exhibitionists get off on this, for certain. Not everyone here islike that. Some people just want the companionship and security of being with people who understand them.”
“Okay, I can see that. And if I were to do this privately? Aside from the fact that the walls in my apartment are paper thin? The people next door have a baby with colic, and I’ve taken to wearing earplugs. I feel guilty, because none of them can do anything about it, and I know I certainly can’t help, but I just need peace and quiet, you know?”
“I do. My aunt—the only family member who didn’t abandon me—helped me with a down payment on a condo. That new building near the highway. The soundproofing is fantastic. I’m on the top floor, and aside from the train whistle—which would pierce through anything—I never hear things.”
“Oh, wow. I’m so envious.”
“Right? I remember my dorm at Simon Fraser University in my first year. I never could get any peace. That’s a distant memory.”
“Whereas I’m going back to the crying tonight.”
I winced. “That’s unfortunate. You’re working tomorrow?”
For the first time, he glanced at his utilitarian watch. “Early. I mean, I’ll be okay. I just wish this was on a Friday or Saturday night.” He glanced around. “Apparently this place is busy on the weekends.”
“Master Dante mentioned that to me. They have pups and littles in the mix here on those nights as well. Personally, I prefer things a bit quieter. More intimacy. That said, I can enjoy impact play and I find suspension fascinating.”
“Suspension?”
“Tying someone up and suspending them off their feet.”
“Oh. Right. That makes sense.”
“How much do you know about BDSM?”
He scratched his chin again. “I tried reading some books, but it didn’t strike a chord in me. I mean, I get how some people enjoy hurting other people—and how those people enjoy getting hurt.”
“That’s part of it, certainly.”
“Right. So yeah. I mean—” He leaned closer. “—it’s one thing to swat a puppy on his butt with a newspaper. Oh, human puppy.” He quickly clarified, obviously worried I might misinterpret.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“It’s another thing to like, whip them. Or hit them until you leave bruises. That’s not my jam.”
“Thank you for explaining that. I’m not into that either. If I have a pup, and there’s training involved, that would all be negotiated up front. He would always know what was going to happen and the consequences for disobedience.”
He frowned. “How do you know all this stuff? Is there a manual?”
I laughed. “I’ve found some books and articles. Some comes from my imagination. Visualization—I imagine what it would be like to be a Daddy. To have a pup to care for.” Gently, I stoked the top of his hand. “We could find a way to do this together.”
