Prowl (The Game #12) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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That was why he kept people at arm’s length. Telling me I was wrong was much easier than having to face his own fears.

Unfortunately for Lane, my reuniting with Walker had given me new strength, new energy, and new resolve. I opened my eyes again and picked up my burger once more. I wasn’t going to let him shut me out anymore.

“I remember when you explained your relationship with Corey to me,” I mentioned. “How he’s more like your brother than your cousin. You’re protective of him and so on. And how he’s had moments when he’s really depressed and worried that his autism is a burden to others.”

He eyed me warily. “If you’re trying to make a case for how I don’t allow him to talk down on himself, it won’t work. I don’t get depressed or sad, Macklin. I’m just stating a fact. At this point in my life, I’m not boyfriend material. I can’t be the partner my future partner deserves yet. That’s all.”

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

In theory, I understood him. We all went through periods where we needed to focus on ourselves rather than finding the next partner. But I resented the grounds Lane used as an excuse.

He would always have ADHD. He would always struggle to find a balance. He would always need certain structure and boundaries to manage his everyday life. What he needed was a partner who not only accepted that but who helped him thrive, just like I knew Lane would do the same for that man.

I took a bite of my burger and chose my words carefully. ’Cause it was time to drop some truth bombs. More than that, it was time to be blunt and bring the bedroom Dom out from under the covers.

“Are you struggling extra right now with your anxiety?” I asked, still chewing. Very classy. “Don’t think about this week. I’m not asking about the vacation. I mean with your life in general. Is work too overwhelming? Are your friends too much? Do you sleep all right?”

His discomfort made a swift return. “Why do you ask?”

I swallowed the last of the food in my mouth and reached for my shake. “Because we’re not temporary anymore, Lane.”

He went still—and then he flicked a glance at something over my head, so I suspected we weren’t alone anymore. Walker was standing behind me, wasn’t he? Well, maybe that was for the best. He could listen because it was important he heard this too.

It was even more important I heard myself say it, what with all the stupid lists with safe partners fresh in my mind.

Lane had to be safe. I didn’t want to pull away from him, especially not from fear that Walker would get worried.

I refocused on Lane. “Answer my questions.”

He struggled against a scowl, succeeding somewhat, and actually obeyed me. “No, it’s not extra right now. I sleep fine. Work is busy but manageable.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Master, who kept his gaze fixed on Lane.

“In such a response, Macklin would finish with ‘Sir,’” he mentioned.

Oh shit. I looked to Lane as a current of change rushed through me and solidified something that’d been fluid before. Or even not really there at all. Lane had never called me Sir outside of the bedroom before.

I swallowed some nerves that made a tiny bit of a ruckus in my stomach—before I was struck by a sense of rightness. That was the type of dynamic I wanted to move closer toward with Lane. Less fuck buddy, less…two subs scratching an itch in our lonesomeness…and more D/s.

I cocked my head at Lane, keeping my expression open, and it was up to him. He had to decide if that was something he’d be interested in.

“Would you take advantage of that position?” he asked, a little guarded.

“Not too much.” I smiled.

Walker chuckled. “Excellent answer.”

Thank you, Master.

I sat straighter and waited patiently for Lane’s verdict.

This could be good for us. Lane knew me well enough to know that I would never abuse such a responsibility. Nor would I cross our previous lines of being open and flexible for each other. He had his life. I had mine. The details would be discussed properly.

I believed this would be good for Walker and me too. Because he would own my submission—which he indirectly already did. But a more clear-cut dynamic with Lane, making me his Dom, however mildly, would set our relationships apart with better definitions. As Walker’s submissive and husband, as Lane’s Dom.

The more I entertained the idea, the more I wanted it. Possibly because the sub in me was happy and satisfied now. That major part of me was being tended to by my husband. And it would allow me the freedom and the pleasure to explore my dominance with Lane too.



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