Page 129 of Pucking Them
I cross my arms. “If Kay can have a Kitten, then my Sir can have a Puppy.”
When Cassian giggles, I’m not sure that was quite the burn I meant it to be.
I suck at chirps.
“Thanks for setting up our first Bay Rebels Sub Group meeting.” Robyn raises her cup to Cassian. “I needed this break. This week has been intense.”
“I like intense.” Garcia’s dark eyes fix on Robyn.
I can’t tell if he’s talking about impact play or his shady undercover work.
Robyn opens and shuts her mouth like she’s as unsure as I am.
Garcia is sitting across the table from me. He is turning a golden bullet over and over in his hand like it’s a sensory toy. The light catches on its sharp corners, distractingly.
It suits him.
Robyn asked Garcia where he got it when he pulled it out of his pocket earlier.
He gave her a level look that freaked her out and simply said it was asouvenir.
That could mean he bought it from the gift shop of a military museum or he has gold plated his trophy bullet from his first kill.
With Garcia, who the hell knows?
Garcia is short but tough looking like he may once have been in the Marines. In his late thirties, his jet-black hair is combed back neatly from his handsome face, which is all sharp lines.
Maybe he’s not secretly working for the mafia or as a bodyguard when he disappears for weeks but rather, as a submissive Dexter.
That doesn’t worry me as much as it probably should. Possibly, I’m becoming too used to my own twin’s darkness.
“Stop freaking out the newbies.” Axel nudges Garcia.
Garcia’s lips twitch. “Why? I’m missing a Shibari session for this. I need to find my fun somehow.”
“Sadist.”
“Proud masochist, actually.”
Axel’s deep brown eyes are bright and alert. His lean, athletic body is coiled with energy.
He is only a couple of years older than Cassian but is much more confident. He is a greater extrovert than I am.
I have never met anyone who brims with as much joy for life.
Axel’s soft, inky hair frames his striking face in a polished style taken straight from a K-pop music video.
Axel is straddling his chair backwards like he’s trying to fuck it.
He is Kay’stoy, a genius erotic dancer who teaches lessons in it, as well as choreographing displays at On the RACK.
Axel has taught me how to pole dance, and I never thought that I would love that as much as I do.
Going clubbing with Axel is like watching D’Angelo play the piano: a master at work.
What Axel can do on the dance floor should be made illegal by the horny police.
When we dance together, I have to practically beat off the men from both of us with bloody sticks — hockey or otherwise.
