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166 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 26, 2015
He makes me smile, a completely wild, unself-conscious smile. And he has no idea what a gift he gives me every time. I'm a guy who calculates each emotion I let cross my face. But tonight, with him, I don't care if he sees my feelings as they happen. I'm not afraid, or trying to jockey for position. I'm here, with him, and free.
"Come on S-Class. Let's get you home."
"I'm not the car, you know."
"And you're not the suit either. I get it. And I'm not my age or my hard hat."
"What's on your mind?"
"Young? It's okay to notice it, you know? The difference. It doesn't bother me though. It's part of what I like about you. That you've lived a completely different life than I have, and we can still find common ground."
"That's the boner talking, lovely."
"See, that's what I mean. You're funny and sexy, and I don't have to have been born in the sixties to see that, or to like it."
"It's going to piss you off at some point. There's going to be a final straw, where I'm too old, and it's just too weird for you."
"That's your baggage. Not mine. I'm not carrying it for you either, because that bag is toxic. Waiting for the other shoe to drop? Throw the damned thing and be done with it."
"Why do I want to play with you? Because you turn me on. I want to hit you. Want to fuck you. I don't want to own you or master you or any of that Dom shit. I'm not looking for a waxed body to push around and call mine. I want to watch a grown man take a goddamned beating and thrive on it."
"You know, there aren't a lot of people who are willing to put up with me on a regular basis."
"Well, that number grew by one, okay?"
He drops his gaze to his hands, then smiles again.
“Why do I want to play with you? Because you turn me on.
I want to hit you. I want to fuck you.
I don’t want to own you or master you or any of that Dom shit.
I’m not looking for a waxed body to push around and call mine.
I want to watch a grown man take a goddamned beating and thrive on it.”
Holy fuck. Wrap me in paper and stick a bow on me because I am sold.
Oh, there is a God, and angels really do wear hard hats.
“When you got out of the car and I could actually see you? So handsome and swishy and wincing in pain, you made me hard. I wanted to fuck you. I wanted to see you wince from pain I inflicted. Not because I thought you’d like it, but because I like it. The fact that you do like it? That it could be more than a jerk-off fantasy?”
“Eddie. I can love you when you’re being self-absorbed. I can love you when you’re mouthing off to me to try and get me to spank you harder. I can love you when you’re distracted by work or town politics or what have you. But I can’t love your insistence on martyring yourself for this guy. I get it: he’s your best friend and you’re absolutely fucking blind with love for him. But it’s killing me to see it and wonder what it would take to get you to care like that about me.”