How to Discipline Your Vampire(100)

            “Oh no,” I clarified, “you’ll probably see us more. Just because I’m committed, doesn’t mean we won’t be having fun. Lots of it.” I smiled again, broadly, and slurped down the rest of my Frappuccino, since Erin’s mood had sapped some of my positive energy.

            She just grunted and rolled her eyes, then looked at her phone. It had buzzed, nearly knocking her drink over with the force of the vibration.

            Her face became vacant as she read the text message. “No, ah, good for you guys . . . ,” Erin said, shoving her phone in her bag and blinking back tears. “I need another Splenda.”

            She rushed over to the little beverage cart and fiddled with the napkins, sugar, and little stirring sticks for a solid minute while I stared at her back, wondering what the fuck was going on.

            “What’s new with work?” I asked once she had settled back down.

            “Ah, new boss. Douchebaggy-dude whose dad owns shares in the company. It’s fucking horrendous. How about you? Getting ready for summer vacation?”

            I nodded wordlessly. I didn’t want to tell her how William wanted me to get a full-time position. And I certainly didn’t tell her how much that prospect terrified and nauseated me.

            “How’d you hear we had moved in together?” I asked, changing the subject, curious that something so recent and so personal had gotten around to Erin without my telling her.

            She blinked furiously again, “Actually it was, Br—” she started to say, then sobbed, “Brent.”

            I leaned in, confused. “Erin?”

            She pulled her phone back out, and showed me the message that had dismayed and upset her.

            It was from Brent.

            IT’S OVER.



            “Everything okay?” William asked as I walked in.

            I rolled my shoulders, shaking off the drama from the tea date. “Erin’s going through a rough patch. It’s fine. She just needs to work some things out.”

            “You want to talk?”

            I huffed loudly. “I don’t even share my dirty laundry. Why should I share Erin’s?”

            He held his hands up defensively. “You just look ruffled.”

            “I’m fine. Actually, I want to spank the hell out of something, so it may as well be you.”

            He dropped his drawers and shuffled silently toward the bedroom, snickering softly.

            Truth was, I did indeed feel ruffled. I felt like Erin’s breakup was somehow my fault, although I have no idea why. I hadn’t been with Brent in months, and the fact that I had moved in with someone should cement our nonrelationship even more. Still, there was something unsettling about the timing of it all.

            And even though she was a stone-cold bitch, I felt bad for Erin. She was happy with Brent. Maybe he pulled the commitment stuff with her, and she shot him down, too.

            Whatever. It was not my business.

            And speaking of business, by the time I got to the bedroom, William was naked and prone on the bed.

            “Get on the spreader bar rack instead,” I said, pointing to my newest toy.

            I guess toy is a bit of an understatement.

            William suggested I invest in some high-end bondage furniture, so I figured go big or go home.

            The rack was perched in the corner of our bedroom by the closet. We had used it once or twice in the last week because I liked how immobile it kept him. He didn’t appear to be able to break out of it, so it gave more of an illusion of control.