“I’d rather do it on a full stomach,” Crawford mused. He leaned against the doorframe, looking in at Owen. “For some reason, I find myself famished. It’s like I put in a lot of hard, physical work lastnight.”
Owen stuck out his tongue. He knew very little of the man Crawford was, but he was starting to put the pieces together. Rich was a given—he’d known that since before he knew Crawford’s name—but there was more to know about Crawford than what was in his bank account. He was scathingly sarcastic, Owen discovered. Humorous. Sharp witted. Truthful. He was the kind of man Owen wanted to get to know better. The attraction Owen felt ran deeper than fetish or taboo. Crawford was gorgeous, and although he was withdrawn and quiet at times, his personality was equally asalluring.
After a decade spent single, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to date someone… if Crawford was interested in him beyond the kink, that was. Owen stillwasn’tsure.
Crawford left the room. When he did, Owen curled up in bed and worked on rousing his limbs. His legs were still asleep, too relaxed to want to do much of anything. Owen wasn’t confident he could make it as far as the attached bathroom without falling on his face. Last night Crawford had turned his knees to jelly, and it felt like they’d yet tosolidify.
Owen was working himself back toward normal when Crawford returned to the bedroom, two plates balanced on his arm, a glass in either hand. Owen looked up at him and lifted an eyebrow. “Did you ever work as awaiter?”
“No, but I’m notoriouslystubborn.”
“You ever drop them?” Owenasked.
Crawford shook his head. He settled on the side of the bed, and Owen wormed his way over to join him. The simple fact that Crawford had returned to the room was enough to wake the butterflies in his stomach, and Owen curled up a little closer to Crawford than he needed to just so he could touch him. Crawford didn’t seemtomind.
Crawford had made pizzapockets.
Owen looked down at his plate, then back up at Crawford, narrowing his eyes. “Thisis what you mean by make lunch? Coming from the same man who wined and dined me at that fancy table terrariumrestaurant?”
“Castyna,” Crawford said. He handed Owen a glass of something that looked like water, but that smelled sweet. Owen reached down to set it on the floor by the foot of the bed. “And yes. I keep myself busy, so it’s rare I have the time or energy to cook myself something worthwhile. It’s why Idineout.”
“So you’re telling me,” Owen said, incredulous, “that you’ve got a body like that, and you eat pizza pockets and restaurant food day in anddayout?”
Crawford scowled, but there was no ill-will behind it. “There are other microwavable meals, I’ll have you know. There are someveryfine lasagnas out there, and soups that might as well have beenhomemade.”
“Right.” Owen snickered. “Alright. I’ll leave you aloneaboutit.”
“I take it you alwayscook,then.”
“Always.” Owen nodded. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have the money to get by. It’s not exactly affordable to eat out or eat processed food all the time,youknow.”
“Mm.” Crawford prodded at one of his pizza pockets, then shook his hand. It was likely still too hot. Owen hadn’t tried to touch his. “Well… it’s a coincidence you shouldmentionthat.”
“What do you mean?” Owenasked.
Crawford paused. It looked like he was debating something. At last, he set his plate on the bedside table and squared his shoulders. “I want to ask yousomething.”
It wasn’t like Crawford to look so rigid. Owen looked him over, the anticipating building in his chest. Whatever Crawford had to say was big if he was struggling to get itout. “Okay.”
“Last night—this past week, if I’m being honest—you’ve exceeded my expectations.” Crawford paused. “I’ve kept my fair share of submissives before, and played with pets eager to please, but… nonelikeyou.”
The heat crept back into Owen’s cheeks. He rubbed his ankle up and down the back of his opposite calf to work out some of the tingling excitement that worked its way through his system. The last week had been one of the hottest of his life, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it anymore. If Crawford wanted to keep seeing him, Owen wantedit,too.
“I’ve never given someone my collar,” Crawford admitted. “I’ve never wanted to keep a pet like I want tokeepyou.”
Owen bit down on his bottom lip, holding back a bashful smile. His acquaintanceship with Crawford was still new, but Owen ate up his praiseregardless.
Hewantedto be the person Crawford craved more than anything else. There was satisfaction in knowing that he was so desired. It went against everything he stood for, but the double standard made it morethrilling.
An omega rehabilitation counselor who’d willingly given himself to an alpha? It made Owen hot likenothingelse.
“So you want to… keep going?” Owen asked, then realized he was being too ambiguous. The butterflies in his stomach were distracting. “As a couple, I mean. Something moreserious?”
“I’d like that,” Crawford said softly. “I want to continue playing like we have been, but I want something deeper from you, too. I want commitment. Exclusivity. I want to keep you, Owen, not just as a pet, but as aperson,too.”
It wasn’t supposed to feel this thrilling to be wanted. Owen laced his fingers together and squeezed them, trying his best to distract himself from the way those words spun in his mind. Childlike glee, a product of wonder and untold opportunity, seeped through his veins until he was near vibratingwithjoy.
“I want that, too,” Owen said. “We don’t um, we don’t have to sign a contract or anything, right? You’re not going to drip wax all over my genitals, or lock me up in a dungeon, or sell me off to the highestbidder?”
