After getting all of that out of my mind, I filmed a wank scene, edited it, and sent it to Hunter before scheduling it on the website. It was a bit of fun between us. Me sending dirty videos to him while he was playing the role of buttoned-up-and-definitely-not-kinky partner at one of LA’s most up-and-coming law firms, and me pretending we were a fair match.
Fifteen minutes after the video left my outbox, Hunter texted me a shaky and grainy video of himself in the bathroom at work. His pants were undone, his shirt rucked up enough for me to see the bottom of his stomach. His breathing was hard, punctuated with the occasional soft grunt, and then far too soon, Hunter came all over his knuckles and the recording cut away.
I definitely hadn’t planned on filming two videos, but as hard as watching Hunter had me, I could easily go for two. Before starting, I called him. The phone rang twice before he answered with a breathy laugh. He must still be coming down.
“Hi,” he answered.
I grinned, covering my face with my hand even though he couldn’t see me.
“Hi. Did you like that?”
“Very much,” he said, still breathing hard. “Obviously.”
“I liked watching you like it,” I told him. “I might make another one today.”
“More power to you, but if you expect the same response from me, I might die over it.”
“Oh, come on, Daddy,” I teased. “You’ve got the refractory period of a teenager, and you know it.”
There was a short pause on the other end of the line, and for a breath, I worried I’d done or said something wrong. Those old fears began to close back in around me, but then Hunter said, “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Daddy outside of the bedroom.”
My heart quickly dislodged itself from my throat.
“I’ve definitely called you Daddy in your living room, and probably the bathroom.”
“In a non-sexual way,” he corrected.
I swallowed audibly, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. He was probably right, and that…
“Is that okay?” I asked quietly. “We’ve never really talked about being this way outside of sex.”
We hadn’t talked about it, but I’d thought about it. I’d thought about it a lot, especially after talking to Keith and Verity. And especially after being around Silas and Marshall. Silas was always subservient to Marshall. Sometimes it was more obvious than others, but the dynamic was always crystal clear. At least it was to me.
“You can call me anything you want anytime you want,” he assured me. “But if you want to start calling me Daddy and meaning it, things between us are going to change.”
“I know, I?—”
“I would want you to move in,” he blurted, cutting off my protest. I pulled my arm away from my eyes, blinking my shitty popcorn ceiling into focus. “You what?”
“It’s a responsibility, right?”
“Have you been talking to Marshall about this?” I asked.
“My brother is not the only resource for information about power exchange dynamics, Lincoln,” he said, voice dry.
Of course he hadn’t talked to Marshall about it. He didn’t have anyone he could talk to about it without things getting weird, and I was over here sound-boarding our relationship off what felt like the entire LA kink scene. I was a shit, and I definitely didn’t deserve him.
“I know you’re not a submissive,” Hunter said quickly. “That’s not what I meant to imply.”
“I know you didn’t.” I rolled onto my stomach and buried my face into the pillow, desperate to scream. “I just don’t think this is a conversation to have over the phone.”
“You’re probably right.” He exhaled a laugh.
“I was just calling to tell you how hard it makes me to see you come,” I murmured.
“Obviously the feeling is mutual.”
“I…I wanted to see if you had any requests. If I do film again today.”
