Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Her words hit me square in the chest, punch right through and rip the air from my lungs. Why did she have us if she couldn’t love us? Why was she as bad to them as she was to me?
Before I have the chance to say anything else—though what I would say, I don’t know—Nash walks over. “What are you working on, Sades?”
“A park with lots of trees.”
“What else are you going to put in it?”
The two of them lose themselves in a discussion there, sister sharing with her brother all the things she plans to draw. He listens to her, asks questions, engaged with her as though he’s her father, and honestly, in all the ways that count, he is. Nash has spent eleven years taking responsibility for Sadie because Sandra couldn’t be bothered with them and I wasn’t there.
I step away, flipping the chicken, then checking on the potatoes.
Sadie and Nash eat at the counter together while I sit at the kitchen table. Nash helps her with her homework while I do dishes, and then they disappear to their room, leaving me alone.
I straighten up the couch, the cushions out of place from Nash sitting there, then lock up, turn out the lights, and close my bedroom door behind me.
It’s only eight, and since I still have some time before Sir messages, I try to work on lesson plans and go through assignments, but my thoughts volley between him and the kids. I feel so lost when it comes to all of them that I fixate on it because that’s how my brain works.
I’m startled when my phone rings, and I recognize Sir’s number. I haven’t figured out what to put in the contacts for his name yet. It must be something no one can figure out. Not that anyone has access to my phone, but you never know, and why the hell is he calling?
“I thought we’d be messaging!” I say instead of hello.
He chuckles, the words rolling off his shoulders like everything does. Like he hasn’t hurt a day in his life. Everything seems to feel easy to him, and I wish I could say the same.
“I changed my mind. That’s no way to talk to your Sir, is it?”
No, no it’s not. “I just didn’t expect it.”
“I decided I want to hear your voice. I like the little sounds you make, how your voice changes from stiff to almost dreamy when I’m telling you what to do.”
My mouth drops open. “No it doesn’t.”
“I assure you it does. It’s one of the things that drew me to you—during and after the first time. I’ve played with a lot of subs, but none of them…I’m not sure how to put it…feel it the way you do. You fight it, I can tell, but it’s such an integral part of you, making you come alive, and that’s a beautiful thing to witness.”
My heart tries to break down the walls of my chest. I’ve never had someone say something like that to me, someone see inside me like he does. I’ve played with quite a few Doms too. I don’t know if I’d say a lot, but I have my fair share of experience, and none of them tried to learn me the way Sir does. They didn’t ask me questions either. “I…thank you, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome. How was your evening?”
How was my evening? I thought the point of this phone call was to take the choice and questions out of my head and give me a plan. “Fine…yours?”
“I worked for a few hours at the shop with Han.”
“I don’t know who that is or what kind of shop.”
“Hannah is my best friend. She’s my person in most ways.”
I shift uncomfortably. I know Colton is bisexual. Is he in love with this Hannah person?
He continues, “She’s a mechanic and owns her shop. I work with her—full-time before I started at Peyton U, but part-time now. We worked until eight and had dinner together.”
Discomfort settles deeper in my gut, but I try to ignore it. I have no reason to feel that way.
“How are the kids?” he asks, surprising me, before I remember that I told him about them. I’m still not sure how I feel about that.
“Hate me as much as ever,” I reply, though I’m not sure Sadie does. She’s just young and scared and doesn’t know what to think.
“I’m sure they don’t hate you. You may think they do, and they may think they do, but they don’t. I don’t know the details, but it sounds like you’ve all been through some traumatic experiences, and you’re just trying to find your footing.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“True. I get that I’m not the one experiencing it, James.”
I immediately feel like a dick. He’s been nothing but nice to me. “Thank you. I’m sorry, Sir.”