Page 46 of Beautiful Disaster

“Oh. Are we going to be on all the time, too?”

“Would you like that or something different?”

He’s quiet as he thinks about it. “I don’t know.”

“We can let things fall naturally. It’s what I prefer to do.”

“Yeah, I like that.” He pauses and asks, “So, what was Jude like?”

“A lot like you, but not with all your trauma. Well, he had some, but not to the extent you went through. Your eyes are the same. He loved to be a brat, just like you. He was so smart, too. Beautiful soul.”

My eyes water again at the memories. That kind of pain and guilt lingers for years. It may soften with time, but it doesn’t vanish.

“Does it hurt?”

I smile and sniff. “Yeah, it still hurts.”

“Tell me a story about him. Tell me about one of your sessions,” he says.

“Very well.”

My eyes close as I get lost in memories, plucking one out of my brain that hopefully won’t be too painful.

My last sub moved away several months ago, and I’ve got the itch again. I miss him, but we weren’t at it long enough for me to grow too attached. I started being a Dom back in college, and I can’t do regular relationships now. I love it way too much, but it’s not for everyone.

It’s not like I can hit a bar and find someone, so I search online for a BDSM dating site.

When I find one, I scroll through profiles, seeing who catches my eye. Not only should we mesh well, but he has to be attractive. Then I stumbled upon a beautiful face with stunning blue eyes and light brown, wavy hair. He’s stunning. I read his profile to see if we’d be a good match.

What I like about this site is that they list their likes and dislikes on their profiles, which makes it easier to find someone who will be a good match.

SubJWM0530 is his handle. I read that he’s never been a submissive before, but he’s eager to learn from an experienced Dom. He’s in law school and works as an intern at a top-tier law firm, so he wants to find someone to let go with. Someone he can trust.

He’s perfect. I can shape and mold him exactly how I want him. It will be like creating art from scratch in my own style.

I quickly send him a message, telling him a little bit about myself that’s beyond what’s in my profile. Then I sit, eagerly waiting for his response, which comes in an hour later.

After some back-and-forth chatting, we agree to meet for dinner to discuss the details and see if we really do match.

“I bet he was perfect,” Jinx says softly, bringing me instantly into the present.

“He was. He really was.”

“How old was he?”

“Jude was twenty-five.”

“So you two met up and hit it off, or was he an ass like me?”

I chuckle. “You’re not an ass, Precious. Difficult? Stubborn? Yes. But also, understandable.”

Instead of responding, he sends a FaceTime request, so I answer it.

Jinx is lying down naked, but he has the covers pulled up to his waist. There’s this cute little orange and white fluffball of a cat curled into him, doing biscuits on his chest and being careful not to claw him. He looks tired.

“Who’s your friend?”

He looks down at the cat with a tired smile. “This is Orange Crush. Weird name, I know.”