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)
I wondered how people lived in other parts of the country. Southern California was the best. I mean, sure, the traffic sucked and it was expensive as hell, but the weather, God, I loved the weather.
Or maybe I just saw everything differently now; maybe the sun felt better against my skin because I felt better inside of it.
I felt fulfilled.
Whole.
Well, mostly. I still wanted Aidan to love me, wanted to tell him I loved him, but I was scared. Plus, I was pretty sure he already knew.
I hefted my backpack on my shoulders as I started the short walk to the Campus Café. It wasn’t really part of the college, but I knew a lot of the students used it to eat, study, and for the free internet access. I’d heard about it plenty, but this would be my first time there.
As I walked, my jeans rubbed against my ass, making me wish it were still sore from Aidan’s spanking last week. It was…well, it was everything. I basically said that about every sexual encounter we had, but it was true. Each time I was with him, he seemed to bring me to higher places. He still hadn’t fucked me, and I was dying for that, but I loved to cry for him, to be spanked by him, and the few times he’d let me hold him while he pissed, because being used by Aidan gave me something that most people wouldn’t understand.
I glanced up and saw Ian already sitting at a table on the patio. There was water in front of him and another for me at one of the two empty seats. “Hey, you,” I said as I approached. He stood, and we hugged.
“Lunch is my treat today,” he said quickly.
“Ian…” He knew I liked to pay. I had an account that had more money than I ever thought I would have. Sure, it wasn’t much to some people, but it was to people like me and Ian. Why shouldn’t I pay when it was so much easier for me?
“You always get it. This time I want to do something for you.”
Honestly, I understood that. I would feel the same, so I nodded. “Fine. Whatever.”
“So, how is Cinderella doing in her castle?” he teased.
“Perfect,” I replied. It was truly how I felt sometimes—like Aidan was a king, and I was the boy he’d saved and turned into a prince. His prince.
“Oh, but the real question is, has he taken the maiden’s virginity yet? Or are you still intact?”
“Oh my God.” I laughed. If there had been something handy to throw at him, I would have done it.
“Did he do it? Are you with child!” Ian joked, making me laugh even harder. God, I loved him. He was the best. I was so very thankful to have him.
“I hate you,” I said when I settled down.
“You don’t hate me. You’re jelly that I’ve had dick and you haven’t.”
And maybe I was. “We’ve done so many other things that would probably scandalize you, my little vanilla friend. I might not have had Aidan in my ass, but I’m satisfied.” Not that I didn’t want him to fuck me, because I did, but yeah, he still rocked my world in every way.
Ian sobered, taking a drink of his water before saying, “Seriously, Fin. It’s great to see you happy. I might not understand your form of happiness, but it’s clear that you are.”
It was one of the things I adored about him. Ian might not get wanting to submit to someone, wanting to hurt or be made to cry or feel used. I was sure as shit positive he wouldn’t understand when I did things for Aidan like revel at the chance to be at his feet or hold his dick when he peed, but those things filled all the empty places inside me, and Aidan saw that.
“Thank you,” I replied. I wanted to tell Ian that I loved Aidan, loved him more with every breath I took, but I was scared to. If he knew, he would ask if Aidan loved me, and when I told him I didn’t know, he would worry.
I was saved from spilling it out when the waiter approached our table. He looked to be in his early twenties. He had brown hair and green eyes, scruff along his jaw, and…shit, he was hot. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought that about him. I wasn’t blind.
“Hi. I’m Jordan. I’m taking over for Phil. Are you ready to order?” He looked over at me, and there was a spark in his eyes. “Oh, hey—Finley, right? You’re in my English class.”
“Hi. Yeah, I think so.” Which I already knew, but I wasn’t going to make it sound like that.
“You wrote that killer essay Professor Adams was raving about. I’m shit in this class. You’re a really good writer.”