I’d always had a feeling they all fucked around with each other, they had a comradery that went beyond friendship. Vincent and Jason had been not-so-secretly dating for years, and I’d known Manson was bisexual. Lucas had always been a mystery, but he was far less of one now that I’d seen him and Manson together in the garage.

They weren’t monogamous; that much was clear.

This was a new territory for me. I was used to being in relationships where monogamy was an unbreakable rule. Even looking at someone else too long had led me into fights with previous partners. I felt as if I was supposed to be jealous and possessive, but it frankly didn’t make sense in this situation.

I’d been furious about Veronica potentially getting with them; but the thought of them spending time with a manipulative, conniving, evil asshole like her was upsetting. I had too much history with Veronica to not get pissed off.

I still felt a little silly caring about it at all; it felt too serious. But I was in the thick of it now. I’d agreed to have sex with them, submit to them, be their toy to do with as they pleased. I think that was a big enough investment to be allowed to care about who else they had sex with.

Besides, they were way too good for Veronica. They deserved better.

I kept reading, sipping iced tea as I lounged on the couch. Vincent ranked high in nearly every aspect of bondage, which wasn’t surprising. Any type of restraint was five for him, as were most types of impact: whipping, spanking, slapping. Jason had all the weird kinks I had to Google the definitions of, but at least it expanded my vocabulary. I didn’t know what the hell “omorashi” was until I’d filled out my own list.

Now that I knew, I was even more horrified at myself. Why the hell did I have to like the weird shit?

I was working myself up far too much. Continuing to peruse those lists for any longer would qualify as sexual torture, especially when I had no hope of relief. Manson seemed determined to punish me with edging for as long as possible.

Instead, I got out my sketchbook and pencils and began to draw. I may not have been hired on as a designer yet, but I still needed to practice and ensure I was developing my skills. It helped refocus my energy, all my concentration going into each careful stroke of graphite across paper. I’d never considered myself much of an artist, but designing a structure required more than just artistic vision. The dimensions had to be right, the shape and layout had to draw the eye and appeal to the senses.