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I nod. “Anyone can feel down after a physical connection, but submissives in particular are putting themselves in a very vulnerable position. Sub drop can happen after you experience an endorphin high, and if you feel yourself crashing, emotionally or physically, I want to know. I don’t want you to hide that from me.”
“Okay,” he says, swallowing.
“Thank you,” I reply, toying with his hair again. “Beyond that, my tastes are quite simple.”
“Bossing me around.”
My lips twitch again. “I only want to make you feel good, Kipp. That’s what I enjoy.”
“So, like…no contracts or punishments?”
“No.”
“And no whips and chains and stuff?”
“None of that,” I assure him.
“That’s not so scary,” he says, which makes me laugh.
“No, it shouldn’t be.”
“And, uh…”
I tug his head back, waiting until he meets my eye. “What is it?”
He swallows roughly. “Do I need to call you Daddy?” he asks, voice shaking slightly.
Ah.
“Only if you want to. If it makes you uncomfortable, then no, simple as that. If you want to, well…” I shrug. “I do like it.”
“Because…you want to take care of me,” he says, not quite a question. More like he’s puzzling it out for himself.
I give him a warm smile, running my hand down his chest and anchoring there. “Yes.”
He blows out a breath. “Sounds kinda nice.”
It’s almost unbearable, the fondness I feel at those words. It’s a tight, hot thing in my chest, the steam of it rising up and making my eyes sting. I’ve shied away from this for so long. Years. But I can’t turn away from Kipp. Can’t deny him anything. This man…he’s brash and excitable, a bit reckless at times, and most definitely scattered. But he’s also sweet and sincere, and I don’t think he’s ever had someone there to take care of him. Someone to tell him it’s okay and that he doesn’t have to keep it together all the time. That he can be messy and bright and beautiful and imperfect. That he can fall down, and someone will be there to pick him back up.
I want to be that person, however inadvisable. I want to be the one he trusts, even if our time is limited. Even if, when all is said and done, Kipp and I get divorced and go our separate ways. It’s going to hurt no matter how much further I fall.
I might as well enjoy the plummet.
“What are you doing today?” I ask, sensing our conversation is over for now.
“Oh, um… Not sure, actually,” he says, stretching his legs. “Usually on the weekends, I just catch up with friends and do laundry and stuff.”
“Well, if you want, you could join me. Some of the guys from the studio are helping Emil move his things to his new place.”
Kipp tilts his head, catching my eye. “Manual labor? Sign me up!” he says, hopping up and bouncing on his toes. He claps his hands together once. “Well? We doing this or what?”
Chuckling, I follow Kipp off the couch. He smiles widely, and for a brief moment, my gaze drops to his lips, gut swooping as his one and only demand rings in my ears. “I like kissing.”
No, I’m not sure I will survive this. But fucking hell, I’ve already made my choice.
“Let me text Emil,” I tell Kipp. “And then we’ll get going.”
“Whoa,” Kipp breathes, stepping through the open front door into Emil’s apartment. “That’s a lot of books.”
