Read Online A WILDer Kind of Love by Angel Payne - Free Book Online Page B

know. It’s fed by underground hot springs. Ideal for aftercare…and other things.”
    With visions of “other things” parading through his head, Dan growled at his friend—and tied the damn thing on.
    Hmmm. Not bad. Actually…kind of cool. The mask was made out of reinforced velvet, making it form to his face without constricting too much. The cover extended all the way over his nose, and also shielded a lot of his cheeks.
    Max pointed to a small mirror mounted on the back of the stock room’s door. Dan peeked cautiously—then grunted in shock. Because he hadn’t shaved in the last four days, the bottom half of his face was transformed, too. A person would have to be looking really hard to discern his scars…
    A person would be looking even less if she was blindfolded.
    Just the thought of cinching a blindfold over Tess’s face made his dick jump to life again. He jerked back from the force of it, shaking his head. This was still a crazy—
    “Now stick this against the base of your throat.” Max jammed the small disk at him. Dan shot another glare but complied, peeling back the coating on the disk’s strip of sticky tape. No use protesting at this point.
    He pushed the circle to his skin, just beneath his Adams apple, and huffed. At least that was his intention. What the hell?
    “Brickham.” He stopped, too astounded to punch his friend for snickering at him. “What the fuck have you done to my voice?”
    People always told him he sounded like Clint Eastwood crossed with a good-ol’ Atlanta boy. Now, his voice was like Vin Diesel after a pack of smokes—and a good-ol’ Atlanta boy. It was fucking freaky but kind of cool.
    “Pretty dope, eh? We offer it as part of a few role-playing kits. Subbies love it because it turns their Top into any number of slathering beasts. The disk is like a high-end voice box. It adds artificial resonance to your throat. If you want, we can go deeper with the tone.”
    “No.” Damn. Weird . “Not sure I’ll get used to this .”
    “Sure you will.” Max raised a hand, his voilà implied. “Good thing is, between this and the mask, she’ll never know it’s you.”
    It came around to this again.
    Another moment of truth.
    Another invitation to forge trails he hadn’t traversed in a long damn time. A long damn time. Since before the fire…
    “Max. I appreciate this, I really do.” The voice discrepancy was a little less unsettling. “But the last time you saw me scene up at Bastille was the last time I scened, period. That was over a year ago. I don’t know—”
    Max dug both hands into his shoulders. They felt like eagle talons. “Colton, I’ve seen a lot of Dominants in my time. Some have been coerced into it. Some have been lured into it. Some have been attracted to it, and can learn it. But the good ones…they’re born for it. And that’s you, man.”
    Dan grunted. “You’re not going to give me a Mr. Miyagi speech, are you?”
    “Shut up.” He gave a hard jerk. “And listen. You were made for this, dammit. You get this. The exchange…taking what a submissive gives you, and processing it into all the things she not only wants but needs…it’s not something you get an instruction sheet for. But a Dominant with his—or her—heart in the right place, who intrinsically realizes dominance is just as much about service as submissiveness…well, that’s exceptional. And rare.”
    Dan stepped back. Rolled his shoulders. “You ever consider that the mask and magic voice box were already enough for the ol’ self-consciousness meter?”
    “Fine, fine.” Brick pulled his hands back. “I get it. Getting back on the bike is hard, even if you were an expert rider. Don’t stress. Like I said, it’s Friday. I’m sure somebody will come in who’s just right for our little red rose.”
    Max pegged the color right. It was the perfect theme for the moment, considering how it blazed through Dan’s vision. The rage even blasted in beneath the mask, making