Page 105 of Obey

Then:

Overlap can happen, especially when you have a Co-Dom dynamic like Nate and me.

Nate likes deciding what the structure should be. I’m usually the one who makes the structure real.

I stare at the message. Co-Dom Dynamic?

Somehow, that sounds even more dangerous than the words Primal Play.

So he builds the rulebook and you enforce it?

Elias

More or less.

Nate

That is an oversimplification

Jace

But it’s accurate.

“Jesus Christ,” I whisper to myself, and my blush arrives right on schedule.

Two hours later, I’ve black-holed myself into Reddit threads, learned about four kinds of aftercare I didn’t know existed, and discovered protocol can be as simple as a daily check-in or as elaborate as designated clothes, colors, or phrases.

After the mega-encyclopedia binge, I feel like I could run a fucking seminar. But that’s the point, right? If I’m going to do this—whatever this is—I want to do it right.

That means more research. Or at least, not bluffing my way through important shit just because I’m too embarrassed to admit what I don’t know. If there’s one thing that’s become clear, it’s that my own curiosity is the only compass I really trust. So, I open the notes app on my phone and start mapping things out. Things I want to know. Things I want to try. All of it.

I’m still working on my list when I see the notification from Elias on my phone.

Elias

Have you had lunch yet, Little Doe?

Glancing at my phone, I see that it’s almost 1:15. Shit.

Oops, lost track of time. Not yet.

There’s a one-minute gap that I fill by chugging half my mug of coffee and immediately regretting it. I can practically hear the scolding in his gravelly voice, the way he’d tip my chin up, thumb brushing under my jaw as if to make sure I was really listening.

Elias

I’ll be there in twenty.

I blink, peering down at my outfit before scrambling up to go change.

A black luxury SUV idles at the curb. I catch my reflection in the lobby’s chrome elevator doors on my way out: the orange-and-white floral sundress, the four-inch heels, the high ponytail. A look that says I have my shit together even when I absolutely do not.

Jace is already out of the back seat before I reach the curb. He swings the door wide like he's been waiting all morning for exactly this and can't wait a second longer. “Damn, Sugar.” His eyes do a slow, appreciative circuit. “Was this for us?”

His black shirt is open to the third button, sleeves rolled to his elbow, so his tattoos are on full display. This man is temptation in human form.

“Who says I did it for you?” I say, climbing in, trying to go for nonchalant. But he really got your girl ready to bark like she wants it.

“Uh-uh.” His hand closes around my wrist before I’ve found my seat. “Right here, Sugar.”