I tip my head to him. “Of course. Besides, I don’t share well.” Already, I’m mentally deleting a bunch of kinky DTF contacts from my cell phone. I’m far closer to the monk than the slut end of the scale and most of my dates are for the spanking, not the sex. To purge the pain from my soul and vent the darkness before it manifests in dangerous ways within me.
The sex is, literally, irrelevant to me. I don’t have to get tested if I’m monogamous with my own right hand. Sometimes, I just need to spank an ass to keep me from getting too damned mean.
Except I’ve been lonely as fuck. Nothing I’ve done has helped with that, and I damn well know it.
It’s all a sham. Another disguise I’ve worn for years, ever since college, and it’s wearing dangerously thin as of late with the extra stress and attention being heaped on me.
He nods. “Then it sounds like we might have a lot to talk about.”
“Maybe we do.” I decide to go out on another limb. “You’re not the only one with trust issues.”
A weighty sigh escapes him as he reaches up to straighten my tie. “I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.”
“Over sushi.” I step back into the hallway and motion for him to go first. “My treat. I insist.”
He nods. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
