through my concentration.
“Ugh. He never sleeps,” Paul said. “Let me go.”
“I’m reconsidering this weekend already,” I teased.
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
We said our good-byes after I promised to talk with Abby and call him later in the week.
I hadn’t set the phone down for two minutes before it rang again.
Jackson.
“Hey there,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“Felicia and I wanted to invite you and Abby over for a cook-out tomorrow night,” he said. “Break the house in.”
Jackson and Felicia had recently bought a new house outside the city after Jackson decided his penthouse wouldn’t do for a newly married couple. They had started moving the previous weekend, even though I knew Felicia still
technically
lived next to Abby.
Another conversation that needs to happen sooner rather than later.
“A cookout?” I asked.
“You know,” he said. “Steaks. Potatoes. Man food. Although I might throw some fish on the grill if you want.”
“Steaks are fine,” I said, thinking frantically. “What time?” I wanted to uncollar Abby and have a discussion about the weekend before we did anything Sunday night.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Does it matter? You catching a plane?”
“How about five?” I asked. That would give us two hours. Not optimal for our first weekend, but it would work.
“Five sounds great,” he said. “Ah, no, baby,” I heard him say to someone, Felicia probably. “That has to be there. It’s a football thing.”
I coughed discreetly.
“Sorry, Nathaniel,” he said. “Chicks, you know? Love her, but leave my shit where I put it.”
As we got off the phone, I looked around my living room.
Chicks, you know?
I really didn’t.
Chapter Six
—ABBY—
“Thank you for serving me this weekend,” he said after taking the collar off on Sunday afternoon at three. His fingers stroked my bare neck and my skin delighted in the love I felt in his touch.
“Thank you for allowing me to serve you,” I said. I never wanted him to think I didn’t get just as much out of our weekend time as he did. Especially considering the mistakes I made.
It was crazy, but I felt different after the collar was off. It was difficult to describe. I wouldn’t call it a weight. It wasn’t a burden, but once it was off, I knew exactly what Nathaniel had meant when he said it put me in a certain frame of mind.
I peeked up at him and felt a smile tug at the edges of my lips.
“Will you sit with me?” he asked. “So we can talk?”
Something about him had changed as well. He looked different. Acted differently. Less certain of himself.
I wondered if it was my imagination.
The weekday me would tease him. The me of last week would answer with a snappy comeback.
But I’d spent the last two and a half days giving in to my more primitive desires, and those desires didn’t include the voicing of snappy comebacks.
He knew that, of course.
“I had hoped you would be more”—he paused, looking for the word—“
uninhibited
once the collar came off.”
Okay, that was too much.
“You think I was inhibited this weekend?” I asked. “What part would that have been? When I was bent naked over the whipping bench? Or was tied to your padded table?” I tapped my finger to my forehead. “Oh, I know. It was the nipple clamps, wasn’t it? Definitely the nipple clamps.”
I didn’t have a chance to get to my next sassy comeback. I took a deep breath, gearing up for a nice teasing launch into Saturday night’s activities, when his hands took my face and he pulled me close for a long, passionate kiss.
“There you are,” he said when our lips parted, his hands still on either side of my face. His eyes gazed steadily into mine. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
I ran my hands through his hair, tugging at the tousled strands. “I never left.”
“I know,” he said. “I just feared you wouldn’t talk. That this would be awkward.”
“Give me a few minutes. I
“Ugh. He never sleeps,” Paul said. “Let me go.”
“I’m reconsidering this weekend already,” I teased.
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
We said our good-byes after I promised to talk with Abby and call him later in the week.
I hadn’t set the phone down for two minutes before it rang again.
Jackson.
“Hey there,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“Felicia and I wanted to invite you and Abby over for a cook-out tomorrow night,” he said. “Break the house in.”
Jackson and Felicia had recently bought a new house outside the city after Jackson decided his penthouse wouldn’t do for a newly married couple. They had started moving the previous weekend, even though I knew Felicia still
technically
lived next to Abby.
Another conversation that needs to happen sooner rather than later.
“A cookout?” I asked.
“You know,” he said. “Steaks. Potatoes. Man food. Although I might throw some fish on the grill if you want.”
“Steaks are fine,” I said, thinking frantically. “What time?” I wanted to uncollar Abby and have a discussion about the weekend before we did anything Sunday night.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Does it matter? You catching a plane?”
“How about five?” I asked. That would give us two hours. Not optimal for our first weekend, but it would work.
“Five sounds great,” he said. “Ah, no, baby,” I heard him say to someone, Felicia probably. “That has to be there. It’s a football thing.”
I coughed discreetly.
“Sorry, Nathaniel,” he said. “Chicks, you know? Love her, but leave my shit where I put it.”
As we got off the phone, I looked around my living room.
Chicks, you know?
I really didn’t.
Chapter Six
—ABBY—
“Thank you for serving me this weekend,” he said after taking the collar off on Sunday afternoon at three. His fingers stroked my bare neck and my skin delighted in the love I felt in his touch.
“Thank you for allowing me to serve you,” I said. I never wanted him to think I didn’t get just as much out of our weekend time as he did. Especially considering the mistakes I made.
It was crazy, but I felt different after the collar was off. It was difficult to describe. I wouldn’t call it a weight. It wasn’t a burden, but once it was off, I knew exactly what Nathaniel had meant when he said it put me in a certain frame of mind.
I peeked up at him and felt a smile tug at the edges of my lips.
“Will you sit with me?” he asked. “So we can talk?”
Something about him had changed as well. He looked different. Acted differently. Less certain of himself.
I wondered if it was my imagination.
The weekday me would tease him. The me of last week would answer with a snappy comeback.
But I’d spent the last two and a half days giving in to my more primitive desires, and those desires didn’t include the voicing of snappy comebacks.
He knew that, of course.
“I had hoped you would be more”—he paused, looking for the word—“
uninhibited
once the collar came off.”
Okay, that was too much.
“You think I was inhibited this weekend?” I asked. “What part would that have been? When I was bent naked over the whipping bench? Or was tied to your padded table?” I tapped my finger to my forehead. “Oh, I know. It was the nipple clamps, wasn’t it? Definitely the nipple clamps.”
I didn’t have a chance to get to my next sassy comeback. I took a deep breath, gearing up for a nice teasing launch into Saturday night’s activities, when his hands took my face and he pulled me close for a long, passionate kiss.
“There you are,” he said when our lips parted, his hands still on either side of my face. His eyes gazed steadily into mine. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
I ran my hands through his hair, tugging at the tousled strands. “I never left.”
“I know,” he said. “I just feared you wouldn’t talk. That this would be awkward.”
“Give me a few minutes. I
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