Page 13 of Calculated Chaos

Taking the crop from Blaze, I run it over my palm a few times while trying to switch the image of Hollister out for a woman, any woman, but it’s not happening. Fine. I can do this. Me and Holl do everything together. Why not practice before either of us tries the real thing? Am I thinking of trying the real thing? Damn.

“I’m gonna do it now, Holl.”

He nods, blowing out a breath just as I crack the rod across his ass. He gasps, then hangs his head. I can hear Blaze check in with him, see them discussing, but I can’t move, too struck by the heat spreading through my chest and down my legs.

“He’s good,” Blaze says. “One more.”

I nod, almost on autopilot as I lift the crop and smack it on his ass again. I imagine for a moment the sound it would make on flesh, the pained moan that would escape the person’s lips, the mark it would leave behind. How the fuck am I almost forty years old and I never realized this might be a thing I’m into?

“Uh, one more?” Hollister asks, his voice weak. “Please?”

With wide eyes, I snap my head up to look at Blaze, who’s standing near Hollister’s face with a sly smirk on his lips. He nods, gesturing for me to do what Holl asked me to do.

“Uh…” I murmur.

“A little harder,” Hollister mumbles.

I stare at Hollister’s ass while I contemplate using the crop again. His legs tremble but his knees are resting on pads to keep him stable.

“Do you want me to take over?” Blaze offers, and for some reason my stomach twists unpleasantly.

“I got it.” I clear my throat, raising the crop, and with a deep exhale smack it hard on the fleshiest part of Hollister’s ass.

Hollister gasps, then moans as his body slumps over the bench. I drop the crop and hurry in front of him, dropping to my knees and lifting his face with my fingers under his chin. “Are you okay?”

A dopey, relaxed smile spreads across his features. “Never better.”

* * *

After we thank Blaze and leave the dungeon, Maxwell is waiting to show us the rest of the club, which includes a sauna, Jacuzzi, and rooms where you can hook up privately or be watched by an audience. There’s a higher floor with a stage where they have exhibitions and training sessions and a few more private play rooms.

Both of us are quiet the rest of the tour, thanking Maxwell and accepting the membership brochures before we step outside again. The sudden rush of cooler air and music is startling against my heated skin.

I text the driver to bring the car, and as we stand on the sidewalk waiting, it feels like one of us should say something but neither of us do. I had plans for after this—a trip to the sex store, a decadent dessert at the city’s best bakery that’s open all night, and a final stop at a jazz club just to bring a smile to his face, but I know him well, and he’s done. So am I, to be honest.

The car pulls up a minute or two later and we climb in, still silent. He’s not freaking out, which is almost more concerning. Hollister’s typical reaction to things he doesn’t understand is panic attacks and hysterics, but he’s oddly quiet, calm even.

I steal a glance at him to find him staring out the window, chewing on his bottom lip. I guess I just need to give him space. He found out he’s probably a sub tonight and I found out the opposite. I’m wondering if there were clues I never paid attention to before. The only tangible thing I remember is that wild girl I dated years ago—Stacy. She was always trying something crazy and I agreed to let her handcuff me to the bed. The loss of control was an instant boner killer. But damn, that was, like, five years ago and I’ve never thought of it until now.

I’ve never once thought it would be fun to tie someone up or smack them other than some playful spanking during sex that the woman asked for. Never considered sex toys or furniture.

But I can’t deny how my body reacted to what we did tonight. Pretty sure Hollister is going through the same thing.

When we pull up in front of our house thirty minutes later, I have to nudge Hollister to break him from his trance. He looks at me, confused, before nodding when he sees where we are.

We enter the house, still locked in silence, and hover in the entryway, facing each other wordlessly. After what feels like forever, Hollister finally speaks.

“Uh, so um…” He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Tonight was different.”

“Yeah.” I slide my hands into my front pockets. “For me too.”

Hollister nods. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

“No problem. I hope it was okay.”

He smiles, unraveling part of the tension in my chest. “It was good. Interesting. The night ended earlier than I thought it would.”

“I figured that was enough stimulation. You’re not mad about the whole gay thing, right?”

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