“Cut it out. You don’t want to start the day with a spanking, do you?”
I giggle. “No.”
“Then don’t stop kissing me.”
We spend the entire morning on the dock, kissing and stopping for him to play some songs for me, then kissing again. Once I started kissing him, I felt as if I couldn’t stop, as if he were my anchor to keep me from drifting back to Nick’s memories, the depression, and the suicidal thoughts. Maybe if I hang on to him long enough, I really will be okay.
“I’m gonna go for a ride,” he says abruptly, grabbing his bass and standing up. “I won’t be gone too long.”
“Okay …” I’m taken aback that he wants to leave and wonder if I did something wrong. I follow him into the house. “I could go with you?” I suggest, standing in the doorway of the second bedroom, watching him put his bass in its carry case and then into the closet.
“I kinda want to be alone.”
Ouch.
“Oh.”
“Can you cook?”
“Cook?” I repeat.
He winds a hair-tie around his hair that he’s pulled into a ponytail. “Yeah, as in dinner?”
“Yes. I think I can manage that.”
He ruffles my hair like I’m a little dog or a small child. “Good. I’ll be back in about two hours. I’d like it if you have dinner ready when I get back. That’s something I’d like to happen a lot, actually, as part of our arrangement, so if you need any cookbooks or groceries, let me know and I’ll get what you need.”
“Okay. Can you get me a charger for my cell phone?”
“Sure. Anything you need, just let me know.” He takes a few more steps towards the door that leads to the garage and then turns back. “Part of this is me giving you things to do so you don’t fall into a rut. You understand that, right? I’m not just trying to be a dick.”
“Yes. I understand that.”
“And I’m glad you’re interested enough to do some research on a D/s relationship. That means a lot to me. I know we haven’t really talked much about all of it, and that’s my fault. I just want you to be careful about what you read online. Like I said, people have their own reasons for getting involved in this kind of relationship, and I don’t judge what they do if it’s something I’m not into, but a lot of what you see and read could be …” He looks up, as if he’s searching for the right words “… scary for you, for lack of a better word. I don’t want you to get freaked out thinking I’m going to hang you from the rafters for days, or share you with other men.”
My stomach lurches. “Wait, what?”
“No, I’m not into that. Relax. I’m more into the submission, worship, restraints, spanking, emotional bonding and boundaries, power, orgasm control, trust … just to quickly rattle off some of it.” He closes the distance between us and puts his hand on the side of my neck, under my hair. The warmth of his fingers feels comforting to me, and eases my fears. “I want us to explore it all together and find what works for us. If you read about something that you want to try, tell me. Or, if you read about something that is a definite no fucking way for you, make a list of those too. How’s that?”