“Sorry, Boss.”
“As to your hesitation, I can bring in someone else for this task if you’d prefer.” Rico has a premium job with relatively little stress, and he’s paid well for it.
“No, I got it. If he is, though, you’re not going to be mad at him, are you? I mean, it’s natural that he might wanna jerk it every once in a while.”
As Giovanni’s security detail and sometimes companion, it’s important that Rico know this too because ultimately, he answers to me and me alone. “I do not tolerate cheating or lying in my romantic partners, and I will absolutely not tolerate it with Giovanni. If I find out he’s been masturbating, I’m going to be very disappointed in him. And I’m going to punish him as I see fit, as is my right as his Dominant. Do you have anything to say to that?”
Rico swallows, shakes his head. “No, sir. You know what’s best.”
“That I do.”
Rico meetsme at the foyer later in the evening after I’ve returned home from work.
“Well?” I ask, impatient for his report.
“Yeah, Boss,” he says quietly. “You were right.”
“He was masturbating?”
“Oh yeah. Got a little too much of a visual, but I can confirm that isdefinitelywhat he was doing.”
Cazzo merda!
I take a deep breath to compose myself. I refuse to let anger or hurt feelings cloud my judgment. I will handle this matter as I do everything else, with calm objectivity.
“Thank you, Rico. You’re dismissed.”
Over dinner, I watch Giovanni closely for any outward signs of guilt or deceit, but he is happily munching away on his watercress salad as if nothing’s amiss. As if he hasn’t been lying to me.
“How was your day?” I ask.
“Fine. Practiced my cello some. Went for a swim. Started a new book.”
“How was your swim?”
“Exhausting but good.”
“How was your shower after your swim?”
He glances up at me, scans my face for a clue, then matches my impassive expression with his own. “That was fine too.”
“Was the water hot or cold?”
“Hot.”
“Steamy?”
“Sure.”
“What did you daydream about in the shower, while you were soaping yourself up, running your hands all over your sculpted, nubile body?”
He swallows his food and takes a sip of water. Now he looks guilty. “That I didn’t want to smell like chlorine when you got home.”
“Hmmm. How thoughtful of you. What else?”
“The sensation of it, I suppose. The heat. You know, the usual.”
“The usual. Did you touch yourself?”
