Page 45 of Edging Coach
He bristled and looked away. “It can. Most real Doms are great, but sometimes you get people whothinkthey’re Doms.” Anger laced his words as he balled his fists at his sides. “Or who just want to use it as an excuse to tie people up and beat them.”
I chafed my arms as a shudder went through me. “No one’stying me up.”
He cut his eyes toward me, a mix of concern and curiosity breaking through the anger and softening his expression. The question“Why is that a hard limit?”echoed so loud in my head, it was hard to imagine he hadn’t actually spoken it.
I fidgeted against the wall. “It, um… It makes me claustrophobic.”
Devon tilted his head. “You’re claustrophobic?”
“I…” I had to think about that. “Not generally, no? But my ex-husband—we tried a few things. Cuffs, a rope. It, um…” I swallowed, wondering when my throat had started to constrict. “It didn’t go well. Once I realized I couldn’t get free, I freaked out. We tried it one more time, but… same thing.” I rolled my shoulders and swallowed again as nausea crept up my throat.
“Oh.” His brows knitted together, and he seemed to be chewing on some unspoken thoughts. I wondered if he might ask for more details, or maybe tell me what we’d done wrong. Instead, he whispered, “So… a hard limit.”
I nodded.
“Okay. Well.” He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “When you make a profile on an app, make sure to include that.”
“Yeah?”
Avoiding my gaze, he nodded. “Yeah. Some Doms—bondage is a big thing. Let them know upfront that it’s a dealbreaker, and nobody wastes anybody’s time.”
“Good to know,” I croaked. “Is there, um… Is there an app you recommend?”
Again, he worked his jaw. “I’ve used Leathr. It’s spelled like ‘leather’ without the second ‘e’.”
“Leathr. Got it.”
He nodded. “It’s a pretty good one,” he said without much enthusiasm. “I don’t know how much you’ll find in Abbotsford, but Vancouver… Seattle…”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll check it out. I guess it’s as good a place as any, right?”
“Unless you want to try the club scene.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Have you gone to those places?”
The response was a non-committal shrug. I was curious, but I didn’t press.
Exhaling, I looked around the stairwell. How long had we been in here? Shit. We needed to get back to… to someplace we weren’t together discussing a sexually charged topic.
I pushed myself off the wall. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you out here to?—”
“It’s fine,” he whispered. “You needed something from me.”
Our eyes met again.
I still need something from you.
I can’t give it to you.
But we both know I need it.
Webothneed it.
Fuck. If either of us said another word, this was going to end in disaster and take our careers with it.
So, without speaking, I pulled open the door and made anafter yougesture. Devon held my gaze for a couple of seconds, seeming to have some kind of internal debate. That, or trying to telepathically encourage me to do something different.
Then he went through the door, strode down the hall toward his room, and didn’t look back.
