Page 36 of Knot Alone

“How long will that take?” Graham asks.

“As short as I can make it while still meeting the requirements. As I explained to Maggie, I want all of us to be able to say with complete honesty that we covered all the details. And that I got your signatures while everyone was still in possession of their faculties.”

“Wouldn’t this qualify as an emergency situation?” I ask.

“It’s not, actually. But we don’t need to go into detail about the specific regulatory requirements for an ‘emergency heat.’ What you’re concerned about are hard limits.”

“What?” We both startle.

Iris straightens and slips back into her ‘I’ve done this so many times I could do it my sleep’ voice. “Ms. Page has elected a standard room and personal observation rather than AV.” I shift, uncomfortable with the thought of someone watching us have sex. But Maggie’s comfort in this is more important than mine. Graham gives my knee a soothing squeeze.

Iris catches the exchange. “Is that a deal breaker for you, Mr. Lockridge?”

“No, ma’am. Just adjusting to the idea.”

Iris hums and believes me enough to continue. “The following are Ms. Page’s hard limits. Be aware that any violation of these limits is grounds for interruption by the monitor.”

Iris reminds us that bonding isn’t permitted this heat, and the monitor will interrupt with anti-bonding medications if we try. Further, the Center would encourage Maggie to pursue charges and would fully fund her lawyers. Graham stills beside me, the way he does when he’s trying to decide if he wants to be nice.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“I’ve helped at the Center before, but I’ve never gotten this lecture,” Graham answers, his eyes on Iris.

“I’m not blind, Mr. Baxter. Your joint attachment to Maggie is obvious. And given how extreme Mr. Lockridge’s reaction was to her upon their first meeting, I assume he’s going to have the same extreme reaction to her heat.

I flush a splotchy, mortified red. Graham takes my hand and with all the poise he learned from a decade married to a man who’d rather be yelling at people, tells her we understand. “We’re not ready for a bond and neither is Maggie. Take comfort. Linus was just as exuberant when we met, and he kept his teeth to himself.”

Oh, look, more mortification. Iris stares like she wants to peel us apart, but Graham’s assurance is enough. Iris nods and moves on.

“Good. Now, Mr. Baxter, you’ve helped Omegas through their heats in our Center before and your reviews are high.” I don’t like the hard seizure of jealousy in my belly. Graham runs a finger over my knuckles. “Given that, I am only going to give you the briefest reminder of the amenities in our rooms. I trust you can handle any specifics that might arise for you and Mr. Lockridge.”

“Of course.”

Iris tugs a 3-ring binder out of one of the desk drawers and quickly flips through it, explaining each page in brief as she goes. She starts with how to operate the lights—apparently an array of intensities and colors depending on the Omega’s preference. Then how to operate the phone like a hotel, how to call the monitor, and places in the Center we might want to go if we need a break. I can’t imagine leaving Maggie alone long enough to go to the commissary. Then a floor plan of the room itself, with the fridge, linen closet, and bathroom supplies conveniently marked.

“We supplied a second shelf beside the mini-fridge to contain your foodstuffs, Mr. Baxter.”

I glance at him. Graham, being Graham, doesn’t blush at all, just raises an eyebrow like he’s expecting me to call him out on it. Instead, I ask, “Did you make those coconut flake cookies?”

Graham unclenches. “And the oat bars. And the smoothies.” I kiss the back of Graham’s hand. Those are all the things Graham likes to have ready when one of us goes into a rut. And here he is, hoping Maggie will like them just as much. Graham’s baking choices tell me more about how he’s feeling than his words ever could.

“Complex carbs are essential to a good workout,” I say, quoting Graham to himself.

Iris clears her throat with a little smile. “Finally, we must discuss Maggie’s hard limits. If you do any of these things during her heat, the monitor will intervene and remove you. After that, we will conduct a review and probably ban you from the Center. We will then pass the word along to all other Centers in our network. Meaning, any Omega you meet for the rest of your life who has the sense to conduct a background check will know you aren’t trustworthy.”

I wonder how many Alphas Iris ejects from the entire process right now when they puff up and say this punishment is unfair. Iris waits a beat to see how we respond, then shows us a spreadsheet on her tablet. Listed on the left are kinks and sex acts, our three names on top, and assorted boxes highlighted in between.

“A complete coordination of your likes and dislikes will be on the last page of the binder in the room, so you can verify all the details. However, to be clear, Ms. Page does not allow the standard array of extreme kinks: scat, blood, water, etc.” I grimace at the thought. “That’s not a point of concern, since neither do you.”

“Beyond the standards, Ms. Page does not allow choking, double vaginal or anal penetration, impact play, bondage, degradation, or pain play.” It sounds like Maggie likes her sex fairly vanilla—well, as vanilla as three people can be. That works just fine for me. I don’t think a first heat or a second sexual experience with someone—or is it our third?—is really the time to experiment with bondage.

“Ms. Page has agreed to the standard stoplight system. If she uses ‘red,’ the monitor will intervene. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” We both say.

“Excellent. Do you have any questions?” Iris flicks to the signature page, but Graham interrupts.

“You said that the things that should concern us most are the hard limits. But nothing there is concerning.”

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