“While I might’ve liked playing at being your Domme, I know I could never do it full-time—in or out of the bedroom. When I’m in the club, I can stay in the persona, but I slip too much when I’m with you. I know it’s just not who I am.” When he started to protest, I shook my head. I placed my hand on his cheek. “Even in the short time we’ve had together, I’ve come to care for you. Because of that, I want what is best for you and what will make you happy. You deserve someone whose heart and soul goes into being a Mistress.”
“Relationships are always about give and take. Why can’t we try that in the bedroom?”
“What about all the other D/s stuff?”
“You really have an aversion to me putting your needs above mine?”
“It’s nice how thoughtful you are, but I could never bear to think you were doing something you hated just because I told you to do it.”
He paused for a moment, surveying my words. “Sometimes that’s what love is—doing something you don’t necessarily want to do to make the person you love happy. It’s that whole give and take thing again. It’s going to the ballet when you hate it or enduring family dinners when you can’t stand the people there.”
I knew what William was saying was true. He was also using the word ‘love’ to try and provoke a reaction out of me. And although I racked my brain, I couldn’t come up with one good reason to say no to at least trying things out with him. Holding my hands up in defeat, I said, “Okay, okay, I guess we can meet up again next weekend.”
William’s eyes flashed with pleasure. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
He crushed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, he grinned. “Let me show you how very happy you make me.”
“What about checkout time?” I asked, as William led me into the bedroom.
“Fuck checkout time. I want to fuck you.”
“Mmm, how very forceful of you,” I mused.
“I have caveman moments just like any other guy.”
“Is that right?”
The next thing I knew, he’d bent over and thrown me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to my bed.”
“That’s the Ritz’s bed.”
William’s chuckle rumbled through me. “I think you’re trying to sabotage me playing the alpha man, Mistress.”
“I am not. I was just making a statement.” When he tossed me unceremoniously onto the mattress, I growled. “I think I’m going to have to punish you for that.”
He grinned. “I look forward to that, Mistress.”
“But first. I want your mouth here.” I widened my legs and pointed to my pussy. “I expect you to make me come at least twice before I will even think about doing anything for you.”
A devilish look flashed in William’s eyes as the mattress dipped under his weight. “Yes, Mistress.”
After I got home from being with William, I went straight to bed and crashed at seven o’clock. I slept straight through the night and only woke up to my phone ringing. “H-hello?”
“Dude, are you still asleep?” my brother, Ansel, demanded.
Rubbing my eyes, I mumbled, “Maybe. Why?”
“Because it’s almost noon, dumbass.”
“What?!” I jerked the phone back to look at the time. It was just like my dear little brother to yank my chain. When I saw it was indeed noon, I groaned. “I forgot to set my alarm.”
“Epic fail, sis.”
I eyed Oakley who was stretched out next to me. “Oh, so today of all days you decide we can sleep in?” I mumbled. Her only response was a yawn. “How far away are you?”
“Ten minutes.”
Fuuuuuuuck. “I’ll be ready.”
Ansel snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Shut up.”
“Love ya, bitch.”
I laughed. “Love you too, you little shit.”
After ending the call, I flung off the covers and hurried over to the coffee pot. It was one of the only kitchen appliances I hadn’t packed. I flipped it on, and then rushed back to throw on some clothes. Ansel was bringing some of his football buddies to help me move. We were getting a late start because they had to wait until after their morning football practice. This was his last free week of summer break before Ansel started his senior year.
Once I was dressed and a cup of coffee was ingested, I felt ready to face the world…and my brother. Gazing around the room, there wasn’t much left to pack. The furniture belonged to Lola, except for the rocking chair and ottoman that had been Grand-maman’s.
At the banging on the door loud enough to wake the dead, I started to hurry across the room when my ankle protested loudly. “Shit,” I muttered, as I hobbled for a moment with Oakley barking behind me like she was a Doberman, not a dachshund. My six-foot-three baby brother stood before me, flanked by two of his buddies. “Hey, guys.”
“Hiya, Soph,” Ansel replied with a grin. He grabbed me into a sweaty bear hug.
I squealed and tried pushing out of his arms. “Ugh, you’re disgusting.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry we didn’t take the time to shower. We kinda wanted to get here to get this shit done.”
“How sweet of you.”
He grinned. “I know.”
When he let go of me, I reached up to pinch his cheek—it was something Grand-maman had always done to us. Like me, Ansel had been given a French name in honor of Grand-maman. He was actually Michael Ansel Jameson Jr, but he had been dubbed “Ansel” so things wouldn’t get confusing with my dad.
Ansel was an exact replica of my father from the sandy-blond hair to the cornflower-blue eyes. It was a blessing in disguise that he looked nothing like his mother—a slutbag who had ditched my father when Ansel was three. After a few years of coming around to see Ansel at Christmas, we hadn’t heard anything from my stepmother in ten years. She never much cared for me, and the feeling was mutual. Even at seven years old, I had been guarded and suspicious of people’s intentions. In this case, I had been right.
“I’ve missed you.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes exasperatedly as only teenagers can do. “Jesus, Soph, you just saw me last weekend.”
This time I pinched his cheek harder. “Don’t use that word.”
“You sound just like Grand-maman.” He turned to his friends with a grin. “My grandmother could cuss like a sailor, but you never, ever said Jesus Christ or God damn around her.”
“If you did, she’d cross herself before smacking you,” I mused.
“Must be nice. My grandmother would have another stroke if I cussed around her,” Jody, a hefty redhead with freckle-splattered skin, said.
I smiled. “It’s going to be a real struggle managing not to cuss once I’m in the classroom.”
“Any chance we’ll have you for Brit Lit?” Jason asked.
I shook my head. “I’ve got all juniors.”
His brows turned down over his caramel-colored skin. “Bummer.”
“Actually, I requested not to have any seniors. I thought it was too much of a conflict of interest to be teaching Ansel’s friends.”
Ansel clapped his hands together. “All right. Enough talking. We need to get this show on the road.”
“Yes, slave driver,” I said, before pinching his cheek again.
While the boys worked at loading Jody’s truck, I packed up the last boxes. With three strong, able-bodied young men, the process moved pretty quickly. Lola came down at one, insisting we come up for a farewell lunch. Even at eighty-five, she was an amazing cook.
With our stomachs pleasantly full, we loaded the last box. I was just about to hop into my car when my phone dinged in my pocket.
Good afternoon. I wanted to wish you a good morning, but I was afraid I might look too much like a stalker.
I grinned as I texted him back. Good afternoon to you, too, my little sub-the-stalker.
I know I’m not supposed to argue with my Mistress, but I thought we established there is nothing “little” about me.
Trust me, I remember your size each time I take a step.
I’m glad you’re thinking of me. I haven’t stopped thinking of you since you left.
Now that does sound stalkery.
Smart-ass. Anyway, at work and need to go. Just wanted to say hello.
I’m glad you did.
With my car door open, I was still staring at my phone when Ansel asked, “What’s the goofy grin about?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes suddenly lit up. “You’re texting with a man, aren’t you?”
After shoving my phone back in my pocket, I replied, “No comment.”
He clapped his hands together and laughed. “Oh, it is so a man. I thought you smelled like a dude when I hugged you.”
Wrinkling my nose, I said, “That’s disgusting.”
He snorted. “I meant, like a dude’s cologne, you pervert. But if you’ve got a man’s smell on you, then that means you’ve been doing the dirty.”
Jody and Jason stood by the truck and snickered behind us. I whirled around to shoot them a death glare.
“Who is he?” Ansel asked.
“Would you shut up and get in the car?”
“It’s a long ride home, big sis. I’m gonna need some details.”