Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Not even your Sir?” I grab him and pull him close. Being this way with him, seeing him, eases something inside me.
“No, not even you.”
I tilt his head up, holding his chin, and kiss him. Jay opens his mouth for me, lets me taste the wine he must have drunk earlier, kissing as fast or as slow as I want. He’s putty in my hands, but he’s also strong and confident. He knows what he wants and who he is, maybe even better than me. It’s another reminder that we’re doing what we both need, what we both want, and that’s okay.
“Can we skip dinner and just have sex?” he asks when I pull away.
“Are you kidding me? My boy worked so hard on this meal. I insist on enjoying it.”
We sit down together, Jay watching me before he takes a bite. It’s clear he’s waiting to see what I think, craving my approval because the food in front of me is more important to him than I would have realized before today… Maybe more important to him than he realizes. It makes sense, though, when I think about his excitement at the restaurant, the way he wanted to pick what I ate and how he’s spoken about the chefs letting him play around in the kitchen sometimes.
I cut into the chicken, watching juices spill free. Its skin has a nice crisp brown to it, but the inside is moist. Jay doesn’t take his eyes off me as I try his dinner, the flavors of maybe paprika and brown sugar, along with more that I can’t place, bursting on my tongue. “This is incredible,” I tell him, and his pupils expand.
“Is it really incredible, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
I grin. “It’s really damn good.”
He beams again. “Taste the potatoes…and the broccoli…” When I cock a brow at him, he amends, “Please.”
I do and love it all. I make sure to tell him often during the meal, and each time, Jay nearly floats out of his chair.
“What if we did this at least one night a week?” I ask when dinner is over. “If we have time, we can do it more, but I would like you to cook for me at least once a week, different recipes. And I’m also going to try and come down to the restaurant more as well.”
Before I realize what’s happening, Jay jumps from his chair and climbs onto my lap. I scoot the chair back from the table to give him space, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and mine around his waist. “You make me so happy. You always know the perfect thing to say and do to make me feel accepted and valid. It’s like you know what I need before I do.”
“I’m not perfect. I’ll get things wrong and make mistakes, and I expect you to tell me when I do.” I push the hair off his forehead, try to find my words. “You make me happy too. I want to be who you need, maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, because your Sir loves you.”
His eyes fill with tears. They spill over, racing down his face toward his addicting smile. “I love you too. And no matter what happens, we’ll be okay.”
I take his mouth, kissing away his salty tears. Somehow, the words we’ll be okay sound more believable when they come from him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JT
“I miss my roommate,” Reggie says when I go to the apartment before work. In the week or so since Marshall and I told my parents about us, I’ve spent every night at Marshall’s house. He’s fucked me, and dominated me, and made me feel more loved than I ever have…which is sometimes strange. Not that it’s the same as parental love, of course, because that’s fucking gross, but I’ve always known I’m loved by them—sometimes too much—but I guess with Marshall it’s in a more complete way because he doesn’t ever wish I’m anything other than what I am.
“I miss you too.” I plop down on the couch beside Reggie and hug him. He has to go to work today too, but clearly, he’s not in the mood to get ready yet, since he’s sitting there in his underwear.
“How has it been with your parents? Anything new?”
“Not really. I answered one call from my mom where she tried to talk me out of being with Marshall, said I’m too young for him, that she’s worried about our lifestyle. Still, she asked if I could come home and talk to them, but I said if they can’t accept Marshall and how we love each other, then I can’t do it. The more I’m with him, the less likely I am to accept people who want to change me.”