Page 41 of Playing By Their Rules

Maisie

I luck out and there’s a cab waiting a few yards from Ethan and Chance’s building. The driver, a middle-aged woman, barely blinks at my attire. “Where to, honey?”

I give her my address, feeling pretty good about my quick getaway. Hopefully the guys won’t be too upset about this, but I stayed at Ethan’s place way too late. They’ll be fine. I have their phone numbers now, and tomorrow, I can text to explain.

As soon as the driver deposits me outside of my apartment complex, though, a black sedan is right behind it, pulling into guest parking. Normally, no cause for alarm, but the car looks familiar, and I have an idea that I didn’t actually escape these two dominant men.

My suspicions are confirmed when Ethan and Chance get out of the car.

“Everything okay, miss?” the cab driver asks me, giving the men a hard look.

“Yes, it’s fine. Thanks. I know them and trust them,” I say. I pay the fare and give her a generous tip on top of it, grateful that she took a moment to care about my wellbeing.

Once she drives off, Ethan and Chance approach, their strides long, eating up the space between us.

“You can’t be here,” I tell them. Mina’s going to be home any minute, and my plan was for me to be cuddled up in my own bed, wearing sweatpants and watching short video skits on my phone. A dark, heavy feeling is perched on my shoulders, and I want to chase it away with mindless scrolling.

I rub my hands up and down my bare arms. It’s September and not super chilly, but there’s a breeze.

“You’re shivering,” Chance points out, sounding almost…angry?

No. I’ve disappointed him—both of them. I can’t stand it.

“Are you mad?” I whisper, feeling horribly uncomfortable in my skin.

“Not at all. Please let us in so we can take care of you,” he says. “Or come home with us.”

I shake my head, but the truth is, I feel like I’m about to cry. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I say.

“Sub-drop,” Ethan says. “Please let us take care of you. It hurts us when we can’t.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I shrug. Sure, may as well introduce them to Mina. What’s the worst that could happen? They’ve already been with me, had sex with me. Crushing on the same guys I crush on is way different from trying to steal the guys I’m actually dating. Mina has never done that, and I’m sure she wouldn’t start now.

“Sure, come in,” I say, and they follow me to my door. This could be a good thing, actually. Introducing everyone, getting everything out in the open.

Mina isn’t home yet. I flip on the lamp in the living room. It’s dim, but cozy. I make my way to the couch. I’m suddenly exhausted.

“Where are your pajamas, Maisie?” Ethan asks while Chance moves straight to the kitchen.

“Second door on the left, top dresser drawer.” I kick off my shoes and huddle into the corner of the couch. I am unbelievably cold.

Moments later, Ethan returns with sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He helps me change into them, his movements sure and attentive. Chance brings me a tiny bowl of chocolate chips and a glass of water. Then he sits down on the couch and pats his lap. “Have a seat, baby girl.”

“My roommate’s going to be home any minute,” I say. “I don’t want you to meet her when I’m sitting on your lap.”

“Then sit next to me.”

I do, and Ethan takes the other side of me. They tug the soft throw from the back of the couch down and tuck it around me. I’m sitting in a nest of hotties, and damn if I don’t feel like a queen while they feed me chocolate chips and give me sips of water.

“Feeling better at all?” Ethan rumbles.

“Yeah, a bit.” That dark, ugly feeling that had threatened me earlier seems well and truly chased away. “I was starting to feel sad…you said it was sub-drop?”

“Yes,” Chance says. “It’s when the happy, fun endorphins fade after a good scene. It can last a few hours. Sometimes longer. It’s different for everyone, but until we get to know each other better, we won’t be able to predict how it might affect you. It’s part of the reason aftercare is so important, Maisie. If we’re going to play again like we did tonight—and I hope we are, that you’ll agree to be our girlfriend—then we need to block off more time so Ethan and I can take care of you afterward.”

“But that sounds so high-maintenance,” I argue. Did he just call me their girlfriend? Heck. I like it. I like it more than I probably should.

“It’s not,” Ethan says. “And we need it as much as you do. We just spanked you, angel, we just pretended to be nasty, power-abusing teachers. Then you run away before we can assure you—and ourselves—that we’re actually okay guys?”

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