Page 4 of R for Rough

“Next Saturday,” Madigan confirmed.

Good. I’d make sure I wasn’t working that night. It’d been my one stipulation anyway. Adam knew I preferred to have my weekends off. I’d come far enough in my career to be selective.

“Well, I’m game.” I gestured for them to enter the bar first, and I followed.

The Corner had been our little community’s hangout for years, and I much preferred it over the club we sometimes went to in Seattle. This was a regular bar with Irish influences. Twelfth & K in Seattle was straight-up kink, and everyone was on the prowl.

Call me old-fashioned, but I wanted a beer or two and some good conversation before I threw myself into playtime.

The bar was divided into four spaces, two seating areas, one stage with a small dance floor, and one private area we rented occasionally. But tonight, there’d be no play—here, anyway—so we veered left for the seating area that was the most secluded one. Six or seven booths cut off by a dividing wall.

I grinned when I spotted Jameson. It’d been too long. He was here with his boy, Justin. Unless Alex, Lola, and Harper were around too. Talk about a poly house. Not only had the five shacked up together and started a family, but both Jameson andAlex were Adam’s brothers. Jameson was the youngest, Alex the eldest.

“Mister Griffin!” someone squealed.

I knew that voice.

Little Miss Angel turned heads. I found her in the small crowd of a dozen or so members, and she darted toward me with a big smile on her face.

That meant Ryan was here.

“Catch me, Sir!”

“Don’t I always?” I smirked and scooped her up with a grunt, and she wrapped her arms and legs around me.

“Yay, you’re finally here!” she exclaimed.

I laughed and gave her a squeeze. “Didn’t Daddy tell you I’d be here tonight?”

“Yeah, but he says so many things,” she giggled.

I chuckled, and she climbed back down and grabbed my hand.

“Come on, Daddy’s missed you. And Greg!”

Greg. There was a man I wouldn’t mind giving a beating. I’d assisted Ryan a few times with their masochist partner. Greg was an uptight lawyer by day and a masochistic fucktoy by night. Which suited Ryan and Angel perfectly. Ryan was always a Top, both as a Master and a Daddy, but Angel skipped along the whole spectrum. She was Daddy’s little princess and Greg’s sadistic Domme.

“Have you moved up here permanently yet?” I asked.

“Not yet!” Angel responded. “The plan is next year. Our cabin’s finished, though. After winter, we’re gonna get started on the house.”

Good. They belonged up here, not in San Francisco. Here, they had babysitters. Ryan had a big family.

We reached Ryan and a few others just as Jameson and Justin joined their group too, so we jumped right into greetingsand welcome-home wishes. And I couldn’t lie; it felt fucking great. To the point where I almost questioned heading to Europe in the first place.

After the handshakes and hugs, I threw an arm around Greg’s shoulders. He hadn’t said a word to me yet, and I had a feeling I knew why.

“You remember me, don’t you, boy?”

He smiled politely, a bit uncomfortable. I would be too, in a suit like that.

Ryan laughed. “’Course he does—because he sure as shit ain’t shy. Are you, baby?” He smooched Greg’s cheek.

“It’s hard to forget that bullwhip,” Greg replied stiffly. “Hello, Sir.”

Angel snickered, all gleeful and sadistic, and crept closer to Ryan. “Can you and Mister Griffin beat him tonight, Daddy?”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, princess,” Ryan answered.

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