15
Ross
I glancedaround the low lighting of the transformed living room. It didn’t take much to set a pleasant, comfortable mood, and it had taken me until I met Stormy to realize all this relationship-type stuff wasn’t actually that difficult to do. Hell, I thoroughly enjoyed thinking about things I could do for my Mister that would make him happy. I’d admittedly freaked the fuck out when Stormy said he wasn’t coming home. There was no real reason for me to be concerned, except I wanted him to be here with me and not… somewhere else with another man.
I hated the gnawing ache that gathered in the pit of my stomach as I paced barefoot around the blanket I’d spread on the floor in the living room to be a tablecloth for our indoor picnic. I’d moved aside the coffee table to give us space. On the blanket was our usual Friday-night pizza, wide wineglasses without stems, and a bottle of red open to breathe. Stormy liked bacon and jalapenos on his pizza, and the internet had come down heavily on the side of a cabernet to pair with meat toppings. I had no idea what I was doing, but I hoped the effort would be enough to make him happy. The blinds were usually closed because I walked around naked a lot, but I’d drawn the curtains and lit a couple of candles I’d found tucked in a closet. I had them sitting around the living room.
It all seemed like I was trying too hard, but somehow my heart was attempting to climb out of the back of my throat at the thought it wasn’t right. What if nothing I could do would be good enough?
And I felt stupid for wanting to impress him.
And worrying that he might be fucking someone else right now.
I collapsed onto the couch and sighed, hooking my hands around the back of my neck to stretch out the aches there. Since Stormy had started working a regular job, he hadn’t changed our nightly routine once. He went to work and then came home to me. Had it gotten old already? Sure, maybe I’d like to get out and do something, too, but I was more than happy to be alone with Stormy. I leaned back against the couch and sighed. Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that everywhere I went, at least one person said something snarky to me, even at the grocery store.
He didn’t have that problem.
It probably also wouldn’t be good for him to draw attention to himself with me. I’d just end up causing him issues. I closed my eyes and hosted a very somber pity party for myself, tried to shake my foul mood off, and couldn’t. Stormy came home early occasionally, but he was neverlate. I glanced at the door feeling like someone’s trained pet waiting for scraps of affection, but maybe that’s what I’d become.
It’s not like I had anything to offer him. I was more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted with me, and do whatever he told me, but I couldn’t buy him anything or take him anywhere under my own steam. The money I got each quarter from my dad’s company had already gone to fines and bills that had backed up, and that particular cash stream would probably go out as soon as it was in my hot little hands for the nextseveral years. There was the payment plan I’d made for my fines and court costs, not to mention all of the credit cards I’d more or less lived on while I was still mayor. I’d just saved my phone from getting shut off, but I wouldn’t have the money to pay it again next month, and then that would be gone. I’d have to ask Stormy to borrow his phone if I wanted to call anyone.
I cupped my face in my hands.
What the fuck was I doing with my life if I couldn’t get a job?
And what the hell would I do if Stormy was already sick of me?
Fuck.I stomped out to the kitchen where the light was still on and the last of the sunshine bled through the blinds and leaned against the counter, staring out at the gleaming surfaces I’d wiped down three times already today: once after making my Mister breakfast, once simply because it was on my list of chores for the day and I didn’t want to feel like I’d cheated by counting the incidental cleaning after breakfast, and once after I’d finished making dinner.
It was difficult to remember this wasn’t really my home—it was Stormy’s. It had been easy to fall into living here with him, and even easier to begin to rely on him. Had I fucked up? It was possible I was blowing one deviation from the norm way out of proportion, but then again, maybe not.
The front door opened and sounded like a shotgun blast in the quiet apartment. There was a chuckle and goose bumps rose on my skin. Did he sound pleased?
“Oh, this is nice. Pookie! I’m home.”
I glanced down at myself. I was still naked because he’d told me to stay that way, but that had been nearly an hour and a half ago. That was plenty of time for him to have been with someone else. Hell, Stormy was good. Maybe even two someones. I closed my eyes.
“Pookie?” His voice was closer than it had been, but I couldn’t make myself say anything. “Ross? Why didn’t you answer me?”
I forced myself to raise my eyes and look at him. Stormy was handsome as always. His platinum-blond hair was what caught my eye, aside from the fact I loved the color and constantly wanted to touch him. He didn’t seem as if he’d been fucking. His hair wasn’t messed up and he didn’t appear freshly showered, the way he might have if he’d banged and washed off. He looked the same way he did every night when he walked through the door and into my arms. My stomach twisted even more and I couldn’t make it stop.
“Ross?” He walked closer to me and a furrow settled between his brows. “Why didn’t you answer me?”
“Nothing.”
He snorted and stopped near me, skating his gaze up and down my body, with the same smug twist of his lips he always wore when he got in and caught sight of me the way he’d told me to dress. Mostly his orders were to not wear much. My heart thumped harder and some of the bad feelings drained out of me.
“Okay, Pookie pie, but I asked why you didn’tanswerme.”
I studied Stormy. His clothes were the typical easy-to-wear things he normally wore to work. Nothing crazy. He’d said he wasn’t with a client, but that didn’t mean anything. He looked damned good. All he would need to do is flash a smile and he could have pretty much whoever he wanted.
“Um,” I said, finally snapping myself out of my morose thoughts. “Dinner’s ready. You walked past it. It’s probably cold now because I had it ready for when you usually get home.”
Stormy crowded next to me and was careful as he stepped close to my naked feet in his shoes. He rested his fingertips on my hip bones and gazed down at my groin. I sucked in my stomach and tried to turn away as I began to firm up and get hard under his intense scrutiny, but Stormy put more pressure on my hips and rested his palms on me to hold me in place. He grazed my skin on the inside of my thigh with the back of his hand and then carefully cradled my half-mast cock in his fingers. “This for me?”
I glanced away.
Stormy hummed. “You’re upset because I didn’t come straight home.”
