Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
At Mclean House, everyone knows about the eight founding members. If you need help with anything in the community, you send them a message or approach them at the house. Lucas is the kind Daddy Dom with patience for days, Macklin the funny switch who sure knows how to switch sides as well, and Greer is the primal Master with a huge heart and a devil on his shoulder. Colt has that devil on his shoulder too, actually. Lucian, another Master, is into high protocol and creative punishments. Penelope loves to host events and runs a tight ship. Last but definitely not least, the men who came up with the idea to start a community. River and Reese are the scary, sadistic twin brothers—until you get to know them and see the sweethearts under the ink, of course.
The eight founders find their happily ever afters in the Game Series, but this book isn’t about that. It’s about what happened before. The story very few know so far. How they met, how they became friends, and how they started exploring together.
So let’s go back to the beginning. It’s a cold night in Baltimore, and Lucas is about to catch the scowl of someone at an event where he feels completely out of place.
Author’s note: Are you new to the Game Series? This is the perfect book to jump right in and get to know the main characters.
Disclaimer: No fighter pilots or Marines were injured by each other’s insults in the making of this book, River apologizes in advance if he offended any vampires or people from Chicago, and Lucian solemnly swears that his cleaning service didn’t find anything embarrassing at his place after the night they all remember, except possibly something that belongs to Greer.
Disclaimer two: Sorry for lying. River isn’t apologizing for anything
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Lucas West
This was…new.
I cleared my throat and looked around the club, a stark contrast to any of the kink events I’d visited so far. This was so underground. Literally. A massive basement designed to keep screams contained. A proper BDSM club with a bar at the center and the walls lined with stalls and furniture I’d never seen in real life.
Baltimore had a wild kink scene, that was for sure.
I’d wanted to see pain-play, and it looked like I was going to experience a whole lot of it.
I was still figuring out how to get a bit of that pain for myself without making people think I was submissive. Or a masochist who wanted to get beatings. I just wanted to get fucked roughly when I bottomed.
I approached the bar, hoping I came off as assertive enough, and remembered the advice I’d seen online. Walk with purpose. So much advice. Do this, do that, act that way, “look Daddy-like.” It was dizzying.
What was Daddy-like anyway?
Christ, I wasn’t sure I fit in here. If the industrial music pounding its heavy bass through me wasn’t enough, the specific trend in clothes did it. I wasn’t part of leather culture, nor could I pull off latex, piercings, or harnesses. Moreover, I didn’t fucking want to. So…so be it. I’d be the odd man out in jeans and a shirt.
I walked past a big man holding his boy on a leash, both wearing leather, and the sub barked playfully at me.
I felt my mouth twist. He was cute. He reminded me of Joey. We’d made no sense together, but he’d introduced me to Daddykink last year. Something had just clicked, more so than when I’d backpacked in Amsterdam and stumbled into a BDSM club.
Ever since, I’d been on a quest. I wanted to find a Little and start exploring relationships. I could admit I was hungry for something deeper than casual hookups, at the same time as I wasn’t particularly interested in settling down anytime soon. Part of me was still hoping I’d wake up and discover I was a switch. It would be so much easier to find a Top who could rail me mercilessly if I also submitted. But it did nothing for me—except irritate me. When a Dom tried to get bossy, I automatically pushed back in annoyance.
When I got to the bar, I ordered a beer, and the bartender actually stamped the top of my hand.
What the fuck?
I eyed the smeared ink.
No play without supervision.
Because of one beer?
Oh, whatever. Safety was important, of course. Drinking and playing didn’t go hand in hand, in my experience. But one beer… If I could drive, I could play.
…without supervision.
Way to make me feel like a child. I might be dreading turning thirty, which was still a few years away, but I wasn’t a damn kid.
Sitting down on a stool, I glanced around the club and the mostly occupied scening stalls. It was only nine o’clock, but it seemed everyone had arrived already.
As I sipped my beer, I tried to estimate who was new and who was an established member of this community. This entire evening was supposed to be a “get to know us” kind of event, where everyone was welcome to join.
A handful of shy guys lingered along the walls, a sight that always struck something in me. But it would feel weird if I, as the newbie in this case, walked over in an attempt to make them feel welcome and included. I didn’t know anyone here. I’d talked to two members in the chat room, merely to confirm my attendance, and that was all.
Someone came up next to me and ordered a drink, and I turned my head to see a very handsome guy my age. Maybe a few years older. Cutting features, one of those bad-boy-looking guys. He looked the way I’d felt when he received a stamp on his hand. He studied the ink with a frown on his face, and his forehead wrinkled.
“What the ever-lovin’ fuck,” he muttered, the music almost drowning out his voice. He must’ve sensed my attention on him, because he turned to me and smashed his lips together. He wasn’t happy. “First they tell you rubbers are mandatory even if you’re in an established relationship, then they throw the no-asphyxiation rule in your face, and now I can’t have a drink without a babysitter if I wanna play?”
I smirked. “I take it you’re as new to this community as I am.”
He lifted his brows, one of which had a scar that looked fresh. “New and not stickin’ around. What bullshit is this?”
Oh, it wasn’t that bad. They were just…covering their asses, I supposed. I’d attended events where certain types of play were prohibited due to the risks.
“I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “A discussion thread led me to a chat room, and suddenly, I was signing up for an event in Baltimore.”