“Punish me?” Tom’s heart skipped a beat.
“Oh, just you wait, baby boy,” Cypress promised with a dark smile. “The very second that the clock reads nine o’one, that fine ass of yours ismine.”
Cypress gave Tom a key so he could return to the flower shop while he went on to finish the rest of his deliveries. Tom hung out watching television and playing with Mister Doodles for a while, and he tried to figure out what Cypress was planning for him.
He knew it was a punishment, but what kind?
Would he use the cuffs again?
Would he spank him?
What would he do?
Tom could practically taste the minutes ticking by, and he kept checking his phone every few seconds as if he could will time to pass faster. The anticipation was killing him, and he was already so turned on thinking about all the naughty things Cypress might do.
But wait, what if this was like arealpunishment? What if this was something unpleasant, and Tom would have to use his safe word again?
Shit.
Probably was going to depend on how ticked off Cypress still was.
When Cypress came home, he greeted Tom with a sweet kiss and gave no outward impression he was upset. He was smiling and happy, dropping off a bag in the kitchen before coming back to join Tom in the living room.
Tom didn’t trust this at all, immediately asking, “Okay, so, are you still mad at me about taking call tonight?”
“Mad?” Cypress was eerily calm. “Why would I be mad about you potentially risking your life while your crazy, possibly murderer ex-boyfriend is still at large?”
Tom cringed. “Definitely still mad.”
“You’ve got to get your damn priorities straight,” Cypress said with a sigh. “I know how much your job means to you, I know you love what you do, but they’re just gonna keep taking advantage of you because they all know you’re never gonna turn them down.”
“That’s not true,” Tom argued.
“Come on. Was there ever a doubt that you were gonna go in today to fix that guy?”
“Okay, that’s different. My restorative arts work is really important to me.”
“What about covering for funerals? Or covering call? Do you ever tell them no?”
“All the time.”
“When was the last time?” Cypress asked, batting his eyes smugly. “Go on. I’ll wait.”
“It was… uh… Okay, last month! I told Junior I couldn’t cover a funeral.”
“And why not?”
“Because I was already covering one of Aaron’s,” Tom admitted defeatedly.
“All this talk about you being a fierce fuckin’ tiger and trying to amp up your self-esteem? This is exactly what it’s for.” Cypress sat down next to Tom on the couch. “You have to be able to tell them no because you’re putting yourself first. If it’s every once in a while, fine, but you’re working yourself to death.”
“What about you? Mr. I Make All The Flowers And Have To Deliver Them!”
“I get back everything I put into my job ten times over,” Cypress retorted. “Plus, I’m going to hire help because I know I can’t keep doing this on my own. It’s not just about time and money. Think about what your job is doing to your mental health.”
“So, what do I do? Quit?” Tom huffed. “You’re making it sound like I shouldn’t work there at all.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Cypress said bluntly. “It’s not healthy for you.”
