“My children are well adapted, Mitch.”
“Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. What I won’t do to your kids is what our parents did to us. I won’t confuse them.”
“But they’re young,” Trixie said. “They won’t know the difference. In a few years they won’t even remember when it was just Brock and Rory.”
Mitch slowly shook his head. “I’ve considered our options, Trixie.”
“And I don’t have a say here?”
Mitch shared a knowing exchange with Brock. Rory took a seat again. Apparently, he liked the way this conversation was going so far.
“There’s more,” Mitch said. “I have a business in mind and I’d like to run it by you. See what you guys think.”
“We’re all ears now,” Brock said.
Mitch stood and paced the length of an area rug. “I want to reopen Cow Camp but I want to change things up a bit. I’d like to open a year-round retreat for those in the lifestyle.”
“Of course you do,” Trixie said, leaning back on her elbows and crossing one leg over the other.
Once that leg started bouncing, Mitch knew Trixie wasn’t too happy with him.
“Mitch, where does Trixie fit in all of this?” Brock asked.
“Obviously not in the year-round sex retreat,” she muttered.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, my sexy sub.” He averted his gaze and watched Rory. “This idea of mine will suit you more than the other two.”
“Let’s hear it,” Rory said.
“I don’t want to disrupt the children’s lives. Let’s face it, guys. I’m not the kind of fellow who attends little league baseball games and PTA.”
“But you said…”
Trixie’s appearance then sent a sharp pang of regret into his gut. “I said what?”
“Never mind,” she grumbled.
Mitch lurched forward and grabbed her arms. “I said what?”
“You implied.” She thinned her lips and shook her head.
“What did I imply, Trixie?”
“I know you want a child!” she bellowed. “I know you do.”
“You’re right. And who knows? Maybe one day it will happen, but not right now. I need to be here. I need to be my own man and make my own way again. I can’t go back and live off your family’s money.”
“Is that what you think Brock and Rory do? Is it?” She shook loose of his grip. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Mitch. They have their own businesses.”
“I know they do. We’ve discussed it. I know they make their own way, but I can’t live off them. This camp is the only way I have to make a living.”
“You could sell this place,” Trixie suggested. “You could live well off what you’d earn off the real estate if you just sold out.”
“Then what? Have a contractor come in here and subdivide it? No thank you. Cow Camp won’t be sold and the only way I can pay the taxes here is to open it back up into a profit-producing camp.”
“Then do that,” she grated out. “Reopen as a summer camp for children.”
“There’s more money in selling sex.”
“Oh,” she drawled. “I get it now. So you’ll what—hire women—and maybe even a few strippers, cater to men, and all the Doms you know? Right? I’m sure that’s where you’re headed with all this.” A sarcastic laugh fell from her lips. “Why am I not surprised in the least?” She stood. “You don’t change. You’ll never change. Will you?”
“Sit down, Trix,” Rory said.
“Stay out of this,” she bit out, glaring at Mitch and ignoring Rory and Brock.
“You will sit, sub. Or I will fuck you until you can’t sit for a week,” Mitch said, finding he was more aroused then than he had been when he’d been locked between her legs earlier.
Trixie jerked. “I have the option of free will and I’ll stand, thank you very much.”
Mitch turned sharply on Brock. “Is that all right with you?”
“Sit, sub,” Brock snapped. “Now.”
Trixie’s eyes filled with rage. She flopped down on the ottoman and crossed her arms. “Why an adult club?”
“Why not?” Brock asked her. “He’s right. There’s more money in sex industries.”
Trixie grabbed a blanket from the end of the couch and wrapped the coverlet around her slumped shoulders. Mitch felt a stabbing sensation in the center of his chest. The poor thing appeared petrified instead of furious.
“Trixie, we have several factors to consider here. I don’t belong in Fletcher, North Carolina.”