“Though I would—will—rock the hell out of that in my own yard, what I really like is finding out what people want in their front yards. Hell, I’m not religious, but I enjoyed putting up that big manger scene for Mrs. Tooke. I didn’t even know they had blow-up kinaras, but I enjoyed setting up the Johnsons’ yard all the same. I mean, my style is for me, but I like giving people what they want.”
“So, what do you need to get started?” Desi asks, leaning in.
I sigh, seeing the long road ahead of me. “I know a bit about the basics of design and what grows in the area from my work in my uncle’s yard, but I probably need to expand on that.”
“There are a few extension courses or online courses.”
Aaand this is where my insecurities come into play.
“I don’t…I think I have to learn with my hands.”
“Oh,” Desi says, tapping his chin. “Maybe you can apprentice with someone.”
“Is there a landscape company that you think might want to train me in exchange for some work?”
Desi shakes his head. “The one landscaping company I know of is run by an absolute asshole. In fact, I bet there are a ton of people who would love to give their business to someone who isn’t a raging homophobe. But maybe you don’t start with landscaping. Maybe you start with simple yard work and move from there?”
I bite my lip and nod. “I like that.”
“Hell, I think Oliver’s got a cousin who owns a yard business. He keeps it simple, but maybe he wouldn’t mind working with a guy who wants to get into something a bit fancier.”
“Okay. Maybe I’ll give him a call.”
“And all of this working outside sounds good to you? It’s pretty damn hot here most of the time.”
I nod. “Yeah. I love when it’s hot outside.”
Desi tilts his head, looking me up and down. “You sure about that?”
“I can pull off goth summer. Just you wait,” I say, plucking at my baby-blue cardigan.
“You know what? I bet you can.”
Junior pokes his head into the restroom. “What are you two getting up to in here?”
“Wouldn’t you want to know?” Desi answers, patting him on the shoulder as he squeezes past him.
I roll my eyes, accepting Junior’s hug as he walks into the restroom. We kiss a little, and he pulls back. “We’re getting ready to leave. How are you doing with this?” he asks, cupping me over my jeans.
“Surprisingly still comfortable. Feels a little punk rock to me.”
“How does letting him out to play tonight sound?”
“Pretty fucking amazing.”
* * *
I’mface up on my bed, and while my cock has been freed, the same cannot be said for the rest of me. My ankles are spread and bound to the footboard with two of Junior’s thick leather belts, my hands are tied to the headboard with a silk scarf, and my eyes are covered with my black cat sleep mask.
We chatted beforehand and looked up bondage on a site Sparrow recommended. We agreed there were entire sections of that site we plan on avoiding—I have no desire to be suspended or made to look like a Christmas ham. Ever.
That said, soft ties and loose bindings I can get out of myself are great. They make me feel bound but not trapped. Under Junior’s control but not without autonomy—a new word to me, but one that describes the last year to a T.
Turns out, the ability to decide for myself is a pretty big deal. We also jokingly come up with a safe word, but Junior says he’ll stop regardless of how I choose to tell him.
According to Desi, Jason Jennings and Sheriff Patrick get up to some keep-going-if-I-say-no stuff. While I was intrigued, Junior was horrified.
Ugh. I love how soft and strong he is.
