Open Doors (Suncoast Society #27)(7)

“No argument from me there, sweetheart.” In fact, as he’d listened to the women talk early on, before the three of them started adding their ideas, he had begun to realize exactly what a daunting task this was.

To do this right, to have it be more than just a kinky garage party that lost popularity after a couple of months, it would take a lot of ongoing work.

Somehow, while Kaden and Kel and Mike and the others had been egging him on out by Kaden’s pool, that factoid had escaped his notice. Yes, he knew he’d be able to count on help from his friends, but had he really bitten off more than he could chew?

He hoped not. He loved being able to bring new people into the lifestyle. That wasn’t safe to do anymore holding house parties. Yes, they frequently had group excursions up to Tampa or Orlando to a club or a fetish night at a bar, but those only happened every couple of months.

They needed a spot for them. For their local community. One tailored to their needs. One where they could act as gatekeepers and make sure to keep it a safe space.

Attending a fetish night at a bar in Ybor was okay, but it wasn’t exactly optimal. And there were plenty of people who would never do that for whatever reason, the top reasons usually being privacy and safety concerns.

The general public wouldn’t be able to attend these parties. They’d have to be vetted first, invited to attend, and approved on the guest list. People wouldn’t be able to just walk in off the street with no one knowing who they were or if they even knew the rules.

By the time they split up for the evening, it was almost midnight and the restaurant’s staff had already left, leaving the five of them standing around their vehicles in the parking lot and talking.

As they rode home, Marcia was unusually quiet.

“You all right?” Derrick asked.

“Yeah.” She looked at him. “I have one ironclad term for this deal.”

“Sure.”

She turned in her seat. “If I pull the plug on this because I think it’s hurting our marriage, or will harm our livelihood—or get us thrown in frickin’ jail—I won’t get any arguments from you. Deal? We have to come first. That was what you promised me, not just as my Master, but as my husband. It was the only reason I agreed to work in the office with you in the first place, that I would go work somewhere else—without any arguments from you—if I thought it was hurting us. So that has to apply to this, too. Agreed?”

“Deal,” he said. “That’s only fair.”

“Okay.” She reached out and laid a hand on his thigh. “I know this means a lot to you, but we can’t do something stupid and end up broke and divorced because of it. If it’s not fun anymore—overall I mean, not counting the inevitable minor aggravations we’ll deal with—then it’s time to either hand it off to someone else, or shut it down.”

He covered her hand with his. “I’m a lucky guy to have married you.”

She giggled. “Yeah, you are.”

“Someone’s awfully cocky.”

She grinned. “It’s not cocky if it’s true.”





Chapter Four


By the time they returned home that evening, Derrick’s mind buzzed with possibilities.

This might really happen.

Well, yes, he knew it would happen, but to what degree—if it would simply be an available, open space for play, or become something that actually looked and felt like a dungeon—had still been up in the air.

Until Marcia stepped in.

Had it been left up to him, they would have set up some work lights or cheap floor lamps, turned off the overhead lights, used folding tables, and been done with it.

He’d never expected anything approaching the level of planning he had listened to his wife engage in with Julie.

Not even close.

The project definitely needed a woman’s touch. That much was certain.

You want something done, let an Alpha subbie do it.

Yes, in the bedroom and at home, Marcia was definitely his slave.

That was the only way in which she was submissive.

In all other areas of her life, she was definitely what he’d call an Alpha-type person. Get shit done, kick butt, take names.

He pulled her into his arms. “Got a little energy left for your Master, or did you wear yourself out talking with Julie?”

“That’s the lamest pick-up line ever,” she teased, rising onto her toes to kiss him. “I think I can manage a little bit of energy for you, Mister Master.”

In their nearly eleven years together, they’d settled into an easy, comfortable dynamic. He’d never wanted a doormat, and Marcia most certainly didn’t disappoint there. She loved what he did to her, and he loved that she enjoyed it.

He grabbed her ass and squeezed. “Then get naked, cuffs and collar, over the end of the bed.” He smacked her on the ass with both hands before releasing her, her smile already hardening his cock as she hurried down the hall toward their bedroom.

It was late, and he didn’t have the energy for a full scene. But he walked down to the spare bedroom that was their home office and also doubled as their personal dungeon when the spanking bench wasn’t folded up in the garage. He kept his implement bags in there.

After digging out the riding crop and wooden paddle he wanted, he followed Marcia to their bedroom.