He’s giving me what I wanted, right?
But the last time he did that, I stupidly walked away from him, and he let me.
Yeah, it’s confusing in my head, all right?
I throw together a homemade pizza that’s probably ten times better than any takeout crap and we snuggle together in front of the TV in the den, with Elliot naked and cuffed and collared.
All while I’m trying not to envision what it might be like if it were the three of us, with me also naked and cuffed and collared.
When we retire for the night, I break out my friend the silicone spatula and give Elliot a fast spanking and a handjob, and he’s out like a light.
Honestly? I’m too tired to do more than that.
Yet sleep won’t come. I’m aggravated at myself that I defaulted to the easy solution this morning with Elliot and tagged Leo in instead of trying to figure it out on my own. For this to work, I cannot keep doing that.
I walk down to my room and pick up the cell. After a moment’s contemplation, I text him.
Thank you for talking to him earlier. I appreciate it.
I wait five minutes, but he doesn’t respond. Either his phone’s off, or he’s asleep.
Either way, I’m not going to stand here all night and I’m not taking the phone into the bedroom with me. I don’t want it in there yet. Every time I wake up, I’d be tempted to look at it to see if he’s texted me.
Finally, I set it down and head for the bedroom door when I hear it vibrate on the dresser.
Yeah, this bitch actually runs for it and snatches it off the dresser.
Fucking happy?
Except when I look, my stomach churns, dread filling me.
YW. GD.
This feels…bad.
Wrong.
A terse, crisp reply, and he’s going dark.
The president isn’t traveling, and it’s ten o’clock at night, so I don’t know why Leo’s going dark or using shorthand like that with me.
Maybe he’s angry with me?
My brain starts to unravel the mental thread and spends way too many seconds doing just that before I jerk myself up short.
No. I can’t think like that.
I need to focus on Elliot.
If Leo’s going to be pissy, he’ll have to be pissy by himself. He’s the one who drilled it into my brain over all those years that Elliot’s got to come first.
Well…Elliot’s now coming first. Just because Leo’s shiny toy isn’t available for him to play with at will doesn’t give him the right to…
To what?
I close my eyes for a moment. I’m exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m drained.
My brain’s stumbling around in a dark room full of garbage and no lights and I’m barefoot and stubbing my mental toes all over the fricking place. I’m not in a good state of mind.
