15
Emma Lia Grant
Three days without Tristan.Fuck, I didn’t think it was possible to miss him so much in such a short amount oftime.
A problem popped up with the Vegas project, and he wanted me to go. Ordered me. Commanded me. He may have even resorted to a small amount of begging and pleading, but I couldn’t skip out on my nana. Not when it’s her seventy-fifthbirthday.
I’ve enjoyed spending time with my family and friends these last few days. Being back in Biloxi has been fun, but I miss Tristan. I miss New Orleans. And he misses me based on his lasttext.
Tristan:I should be home by 7:00. I want you in our bedroom on your knees, ready to suck my cock when I walk through the door. And I want itdeep.
Emma Lia:Do you want me naked or wearinglingerie?
Tristan:Naked. I don’t have the patience for undressing youtonight.
Emma Lia:I will be ready for you, Master. Naked and kneeling, my mouth eager for yourcock.
Tristan:That’s my goodgirl.
Oh, Tristan. There isn’t another man in the world likehim.
Most women would be insulted or offended by his harsh words, but his orders only manage to make me wet with anticipation. But there are two words in his text that stand out to me like noneother.
Ourbedroom.
There is no longer Tristan’s bedroom with his submissive’s bedroom next door. We share one room. One bed. One bathroom. We have breakfast together in the mornings, and then he goes to work, leaving me at home like a trophy wife. He comes home in the evenings, and we share dinner before going to bed and fucking like savages. Unless it’s a vanilla night. He’s been offering those to me more and more lately. At first, I thought it was so he could get laid without giving me a key pull, but I’m beginning to think that he enjoys vanilla more than Ido.
We live like a married couple, except kinkier. And I like it. I’m content with being Tristan’s submissive… who he often fucks in theass.
Seven o’clock approaches, and I take my place on the floor beside our bed. I know that I might have to stay this way for a while, but Tristan will reward me when he sees the reddened impressions on my knees and lowerlegs.
I’ve only been on my knees for a few minutes when there’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Miss…”
It’s Ray’s voice at the door. “Just a minute,” I callout.
I panic mildly as I quickly pull on a pair of yoga pants and oversized T-shirt. Ray never comes to our bedroom for anyreason.
I answer the door and Ray’s face is apologetic. “I’m sorry to bother you when Mr. Broussard is on his way home, but his father has just arrived. I thought that you might want to receive him since you’re the lady of thehouse.”
The lady of the house? I guess that must be a nice way of calling me the woman who is currently fucking the gentleman of thehouse.
“Yes. I should receive him, but not like this. Would you tell him that I’ll be out in amoment?”
“Certainly,miss.”
I change quickly into a casual dress and ballerina flats, leaving my hair and makeup as it is. Thank goodness I was ready for Tristan’s arrival so that much isdone.
I’m suddenly nervous as I descend the stairs to meet the man that my father wanted me to avoid. And I still don’t know why. Perhaps meeting Mr. Broussard will shed some light onthat.
Ray is standing at the bottom of the stairs when I reach the first floor. “He’s waiting in thelibrary.”
“Thankyou.”
Tristan’s father is standing with his back to me, holding the photo of Tristan with his mother, but he spins around rapidly when he hears the creak of the wood plank flooring beneath myfeet.
Despite the thirty-something-year age gap, I’m immediately taken aback by Tristan’s resemblance to him. By blood, this man is the brother of Tristan’s mother. I wouldn’t have expected him to share so many similarities. It’s like seeing a preview of what Tristan will look like in hissixties.
“MissGrant?”
