“Because I’m not willing to nuke what you and I have. Especially over a guy I’ve only known for two weeks.”
He finally looks into my eyes. “I told you to go date.”
“Ask me not to.Tellme not to.”
He slowly shakes his head.
I sigh, sad because I know he’s not backing down from this. “I’m going to take things slowly. If you can’t handle the thought of me dating, tell me.”
“I told you to.”
I’m not going to spend an hour rehashing this with him. “All right. I’m not going to tell him about you. I mean, he already knows I have a complicated situation, but we haven’t discussed details, and he doesn’t know it’s you. Are you going to be able to work with him?”
He nods but I can already see he’s close to tears.
A good man would stop, reverse course, and tell his pet to forget it, right?
I am not a good man.
And I’ve been patient for over six goddamned years.
I lean in and kiss him. “I love you, and I won’t do anything I think will harm you and me. I’m not going anywhere, pet.”
He nods again.
“Okay.” I make a mental note to make sure I text him earlier than I normally would tonight, so he doesn’t worry himself into puking.
And to make sure I never miss a nighttime text with him. In fact, I should probably add additional text contact, if we’re not together.
One more kiss. “I love you, pet. You’re my good boy.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. “I love you, too, Master.”
I let my hand settle on the back of his head so I can massage him there. I can’t force him to let me in. This has also taken the sadistic satisfaction out of the equation.
No, I won’t play games with Elliot’s heart, or Jordan’s.
Yeah, Idowant to try dating Jordan.
If the benefit is that Elliot gets off his ass? Great. But I won’t manipulate him.
Now, all I have to do is not fuck up three lives in the process of stumbling through whatever the hell this might be.
* * * *
Before Jordan returns to the office, I’ve texted him my address and tell him what time to be at my place tonight, and he confirms.
It’s done.
This first step.
I feel a weird mix of freedom and guilt. I’ve never so much as gone out forcoffeewith another guy as anything other than coworkers or platonic friends.
Not since Elliot.
Elliot leaves before I do but even with staff around, I still catch his eyes and lean in close so I can whisper. “Yes, or no?” I can still call this off if it’s percolated through his brain.
I watch him sigh but he meets my gaze. “Yes,” he firmly says, along with giving me one of his head nods.
