Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Him and me both. “I underestimated what it would be like—living with someone, being responsible for someone that way.” It wasn’t that I disliked it. I quite enjoyed it. But I was used to having my space, and I already found myself wondering how everything I did affected Finley.
“You’ll be great, as you are at everything. And actually, even though it’s not something I ever thought you would do, it fits you, caring for someone at that level.”
I wasn’t sure about that, so I took a bite of my fried rice and didn’t reply.
I stayed at David’s for a few hours, then made my way home. The porch light was on, and the door opened before I reached it. “I made a cake!” Finley said and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was hiding something, that much was clear.
“What kind?”
He took my keys and put them in the bowl, then reached for my suit jacket. “Let me get this.” I allowed him to remove it from my shoulders. “Your shoes?”
“They’re fine,” I replied, and he winced. “The cake.”
“Oh, it’s chocolate. I love chocolate. I hope you do too.”
“My favorite.” And it really was.
“I’ll get you a piece.”
I nodded and went with him to the kitchen. Finley cut me a piece of cake, and I sat at the table to eat it. He surprised me by kneeling by the chair. He’d done it in the living room but never at the table. Oh, precious boy. He’d missed me. I was both honored and worried about that. “Are your knees okay on this floor?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“We’ll get a pillow for the room,” I said, then ate while he sat there. “How was your day?”
“Good. I got all my chores done, obviously, but I was bored this evening.”
He should have looked into the credits he needed for his diploma, but I didn’t say anything. Not yet. “You should have had Ian over.”
“I wasn’t sure I could.”
“I told you he can come anytime. This is your home too, Finley.”
He nodded, and I finished my cake. “It was delicious,” I told him as he took my plate to the sink and washed it. He had his back to me, and I waited, knowing there was something on his mind.
“Did you… Did you go…you know…do your thing?”
Ah, so that was what this was about. “What thing is that?”
“Sex, of course.” He turned around. “What do you do? I know you’re a Dominant, but do you go have scenes with people? What kinds of things do you do with them?”
I sighed, standing and walking over to him. Finley looked up at me, needy and hurt. I hated the hurt. I was supposed to protect him, not hurt him, unless it was in a scene and something he wanted. “I wasn’t with a boy tonight. I was with my friend David. But if I had been, that would be okay, remember? Those are the rules we agreed on.”
“The rules you made.”
“Yes, but you agreed to them. I’m supposed to make the rules, yes? And I’m supposed to do what I feel is best for you, which I am.”
He crossed his arms, obviously unhappy, but he still said, “Yes, Sir.”
Finley turned to walk away, but I reached out and held his wrist. “You don’t want to be alone.” I knew he didn’t. He was feeling needy, lonely, and it was my job to make him feel protected.
“No.”
“Go change into something more comfortable. We’ll watch that show—whatever it is you’re always watching.” I hated television, but that wasn’t what mattered then. What mattered was being what he needed as best as I could.
“Really?” Finley asked, almost giddy.
“Yes. Go.”
He turned and ran upstairs. I went to the entryway and removed my shoes before going to the couch. He was downstairs a few minutes later, in sweats and a T-shirt. He knelt on the floor and put his head on my knee, my fingers automatically going to his hair.
After plucking the remote from the table, I went to Netflix. “Now tell me what this is about.”
I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the smile in his voice as he told me. I fingered his hair, comforting him as we sat there and watched.
CHAPTER NINE
Finley
“I feel like we’re on one of those TV shows…rich housewives or something like that,” Ian teased as we sunbathed by the pool. He held up his glass of pink lemonade, which we’d put those little umbrellas in, and we clanked them together.
“Right? I think that shit all the time. It’s like a dream. I mean, I know I don’t belong here, and eventually I’ll turn back into a pumpkin, but the past three months have been…” I didn’t even have the words for what they had been. I was happy, and being happy made me realize that I truly hadn’t been before. Logically, I had to have known that, of course, but I didn’t realize how bad it was. But even beyond happiness… “Fulfilling.” I felt fulfilled in too many ways to count. Like this rightness had settled into my bones, and I finally fit into my skin the right way, my thoughts soothed and steady.