Liability (Suncoast Society #33)(9)

Okay, then.

A woman offered them a friendly smile as she walked up to them. “Hi, my name’s Shayla. You both have that ‘what am I doing here’ look.” She wore a leather collar around her neck. At least, Kim assumed it was a collar.

Cole laughed and took over the interaction, much to Kim’s relief. “You sound like you know what to look for.”

Shayla shook hands with them. “I sure do.” She turned and pointed to a man, who was talking to another couple. “That’s my husband and Master, Tony. We’re the hosts of the group tonight.”

“I’m Cole, this is my girlfriend, Kim. And yes, we’re both new. This is our first event. Ever.”

“Excellent. Are you meeting anyone here in particular tonight, or would you like me to introduce you around and help you find a place to sit?”

“Introductions would be greatly appreciated, thanks,” Cole said.

Kim’s nerves tightened in her gut as she held Cole’s hand while they followed Shayla around the room. She knew she’d never remember all the people’s names, but everyone seemed very nice. They ended up at a table in a far corner of the room where only one guy was currently sitting.

“Mason, do you mind if I seat Kim and Cole with you? This is their very first time to an event, and they’re completely new to the lifestyle.”

“Not a problem.” The normal-looking man, wearing khakis and a button-up shirt, stood and indicated two chairs next to him that were leaning against the table. “Seth and Leah asked me to save them two seats here, but the rest are free.”

“Wonderful,” Shayla said. “Mason’s one of our old-timers, but he’s been living out of town for several years and just moved back a couple of months ago. This is his first munch with us in quite a while, so he’s almost like a newbie.” Another couple entered the room. “Aaaand if you’ll please excuse me, I think I see another new couple I need to go greet.”

Kim focused on the guy. Hazel eyes, brown hair, clean-shaven. Dressed like he worked in an office.

Average. Nice-looking guy.

Cole stuck out his hand. “Cole.”

They shook. “Nice to meet you. Mason.”

“And this is my girlfriend, Kim.”

Mason hesitated before extending his hand. “May I?” he asked Cole.

Cole frowned. “Huh?”

Mason smiled. “It’s always considered polite protocol for a Dominant to ask permission before shaking hands with another Dominant’s submissive.”

“Oh, um, yeah. Sure. No problem.”

Now Kim had one question answered and didn’t know if the little thrill that raced through her as she shook with the man was from knowing he was a Dominant, or that Cole was automatically seen as being in charge of her.

One thing she had read that resonated with her was that the brain was the biggest sex organ in the body. That sometimes it was as much about how you psyched yourself up for something as it was the actual things you did.

Maybe that was true.

One way or another, she suspected she was about to find out.





As more people arrived and dinner got underway, Kim forced herself to try to relax. Their table had filled up, the previously mentioned Seth and Leah appearing, another new couple sitting next to them, as well as three people Kim wasn’t sure how to process at first.

Not that Tilly, her husband, Landry, and their partner Cris weren’t nice, because they seemed very nice. It was Kim’s obvious confusion about their situation that finally made Tilly giggle.

“We’re poly,” she volunteered to Kim, who blushed.

“Sorry?”

“It’s complicated,” Landry offered. He had a slight accent, maybe French, but Kim couldn’t quite place it. “Don’t worry, some days the two of them keep me guessing as well.”

“That’s because it’s more fun that way,” Cris playfully added.

Mason shook his head and leaned in. Kim had ended up sitting next to him, on Mason’s left side, with Cole to her left. “Landry’s a sadist and enjoys confusing people,” Mason explained. “So does Tilly. Cris and Tilly mix it up with each other depending on their moods, and Tilly’s sort of our group’s appointed pit bull. If she thinks someone’s messing with one of her friends in a bad way, she’ll put a hurting on them.”

“That’s for sure,” Cris said.

“Hey,” Tilly said, slightly indignantly. “I’m the sweetest sadist you’ll ever hope to meet.”

“I heard about the can of wasp spray in your car,” Mason told her.

“That was prudent,” she said. “And I turned out not needing it, either.”

“Wasp spray?” Kim asked.

Tilly shrugged. “If you ever need a good makeshift blowtorch, it’s wonderful.”

“Uh…”

“Tilly,” Leah playfully chastised, “don’t scare the newbies.”

Tilly’s face broke into a beaming grin. “Sorry. It’s a really long story. Improvised defensive weapon.” She shot a frown at her husband. “Master Fussypants here won’t let me get a concealed carry permit.”

Everyone else at the table, besides Kim, Cole, and the other new couple, of course, immediately said, “Prison orange is not your color.”