“Of course I like it. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t like it,” I say with a snort. “But I only like it when my brain’s switched off.”
With very rare exception the only circumstance apart from inebriation where I engage in anal penetration is the fisting I do when I’m subbing.
Yes, I sub as well. I’m what you’d call a switch. But my sub lifestyle is very different to my Dom one. I’ve only ever had one Dom and I couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else in that way. Mischa was my high school boyfriend before her transition and we discovered kink together. It might sound messed up for fifteen-year-olds to be experimenting with BDSM, but we were both going through some really heavy shit at the time and, if you ask me, consensual kink is a far healthier outlet than a lot of other crap teenagers get into.
And if a gay guy having a female Dom seems odd, I can assure you, it’s not. There are so many gray areas when it comes to kink and I’ve never found sexual attraction to be a necessary element.
“…I get it,” Cody says gently, and I realize I totally zoned out and missed what he said. I focus back on the last few moments, hoping my ears picked something up even while my mind was distracted, but he was mumbling against my neck so all I’m getting is random words—“control,” “hard,” “everything.”
I decide to just answer with a non-committal sound of acknowledgement.
“So, maybe with the right partner—someone you really cared about and trusted completely—you might be able to let go like you do when you’re drunk?” he suggests.
My mind veers to Mischa again and I give a casual shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Okay…maybe we should try it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw.
“Huh? Try what?”
“Us…together. You bottoming.”
I let out a frustrated huff. “Cody, I literally just said we’re not fucking again. I’m sorry, but we’re just not compatible.” I break his hold and surge to my feet, striding across to the dresser and retrieving a pair of boxer briefs.
“We could be,” he presses. “We should at least give this a chance.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck, Cody. If you’re that desperate for another fuck you could always have a go at catching.” I turn back around to flash a teasing smirk. “You might actually enjoy it.”
“I wasn’t talking about fucking,” he grumbles, digging a hand into his hair and yanking out the tie holding his bun in place.
I arch a brow at the familiar gesture, a sure sign of irritation. “Then what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking aboutus.”
“Us?”My brows creep up in puzzlement as I try to make sense of his words. Maybe I haven’t sobered up as much as I thought because nothing he’s saying right now is penetrating.
“Yeah,us—you and me.”
“Well, I kind of assumed you weren’t referring to society as a whole but I appreciate the clarification,” I drawl, tugging out a pair of jeans and pulling them on.
“What’s with the jeans?” Cody asks, his frustration morphing into confusion.
“I’m a big advocate of the ‘clothing necessary’ policy for plane travel, even when it’s a private jet.”
Considering this is the first he’s heard of my plans to return home I’m not surprised to see his brows shoot up into his hairline. “You’re flying somewherenow?Where?”
“Home. Piper wants to talk to me about something, apparently.”
“Home…? You mean…New York?”
“Obviously.”
“But…I thought you were considering moving here,” he says with a frown. “Star?—”
“Star likes to live in a dream world where she has the ability to bend the universe to her will,” I cut in with a wry huff. “I was never actually considering moving out here. My whole life is in New York.”
He looks a little taken aback by this, although I have no idea why—it’s not like I’ve been keeping my feelings on this topic under wraps. He rakes a hand through his hair, frowning in consternation before climbing down from the bed and stepping toward me. “Okay…” He draws in a steadying breath and gives a slight nod, as though reassuring himself of something. “Okay. I can move to New York. Not right away, but maybe in the new year….”
My face screws up in bafflement at that pronouncement. “Why the fuck would you move to New York? You love LA.”
