My phone dinged with a series of texts.
EDGE
Welcome to EDGE.
We are an all-inclusive BDSM community that allows kinksters to explore boundaries in a safe, sane, consensual manner with like-minded individuals.
I laughed so hard when the line went dead with no further comment. Hawk raised his snout, looking at me with his head cocked curiously then came to me, resting his chin on my knee.
“Well, buddy,” I said, dropping my forehead to his, “looks like we’re moving.”
A new job. A new town. And… looking at the text notifications of the kink club on the phone screen… maybe, just maybe, a boy to call my own. Something I’ve not had since before the accident. And even then, it wasn’t quite what I wanted. I wanted a boy in my house, in my bed, and as a part of my life, as more than a plaything. Like Mikal, I wanted a partner.
FOUR
SASHA
“We’re excited to have you coaching the team, Sasha,” James Michelson schmoozed into the webcam as I signed the contract naming me Manchester University’s newest Head Coach of the Men’s Ice Hockey team.
As we’d gone over the contract during the call, I became more and more ecstatic about the clauses I’d negotiated with the hiring team and the school president. Michelson had been on the committee that hired me as well, and would be my boss, so to speak, but he was fake as hell.
And I hated fake.
After agreeing to accept the position, James scheduled this meeting to review the contract. As he read through it—yes, the man read it aloud to me over the webcam as if I couldn’t read it for myself—his nose snarled at the clause that gave me full, unfettered control of the team and program. Then his face soured further when he read over the portion that stated, unless I resigned, the school couldn’t fire me until the end of the season without just cause. His eyes lit up at that phrase, but fellwhen all of the possible reasons for termination were enumerated clearly with zero wiggle room. The last thing I asked for robbed the man of his voice and the snarl.
“You cannot have access to another staff member’s email.”
“Considering the last coach was fired and the email is property of the university, my attorney and the school provost disagree. I will not sign the contract without all the files and emails pertaining to the team, staff, and individual players.”
“One moment.”
He muted his side of the video feed and picked up the phone. Leaning back in my chair, I folded my arms across my chest and waited, watching him side eye me several times as he argued with whomever was on the other line. I didn’t know the man well, but based on the way he clicked his pen and carded his fingers through his hair, messing up the perfectly slicked back hairstyle, he wasn’t hearing what he wanted to hear.
When he hung up the phone, his shoulders lifted several times before he turned back to me with the phoniest smile I’d ever seen, and he said, “You will gain access once…”
“BeforeI sign the documents. Or I don’t sign.”
That twitchy muscle danced in his cheek again, joined by a twitchy eyelid. I clenched my teeth to keep from laughing at the man when he held up a finger, telling me to hold. The sound on his side muted briefly, but came back on when he turned for the phone. He must not have noticed because he punched some buttons, and the speakerphone started ringing. A voice I recognized as the school provost, who had also been on the call when I made my demands, answered.
“What now, James?”
“He refuses to sign…”
The school president’s voice came through the speakerphone. “Whatever he wants, give it to him. If you can’t or won’t, start polishing your resume.”
The call disconnected, and when he turned back to the computer screen, he noticed the mic was on, and I couldn’t help myself.
I sat forward, my crossed arms coming to rest on the dining table in front of my laptop, my biceps stretching my t-shirt. With the biggest shit-eating grin I could manage splashed across my face, I said, “I’m excited to be part of the Maulers again. I loved playing for The U, and I look forward to helping the team win some games and the boys achieve their dreams.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek, and he tried to smile, but it came off as more of a pained grimace than a smile.
“Like I said, we’re excited to have you,” he said as he typed away on the keyboard. Then he looked back at me with a sigh. “The email with your account setup, as well as access to Coach Muncy’s files, has been sent to you. If you’d double-check that so we can finalize the contract?”
I did so and smiled. “Thank you, James. I appreciate it.” When he started reading the contract again, I signed it and emailed it back to him before saying, “There’s no need to continue. You have the signed contract in your email.”
He blustered and babbled, then paused and sighed. “When can we expect you on campus?”
“I’ll move in this weekend.”
