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He threw me a look over his shoulder as he entered his home. “There’s a Yoda quote for that suggestion.”
There is no try…
I cracked up. He could be damn funny sometimes.
“Also, abso-fucking-lutely not, and neither are you,” he finished.
Buzzkill.
“You’re not my Master, you know,” I retorted.
He chuckled to himself and aimed straight for the kitchen, so I followed again. We got rid of our late-night street food trash, and then he opened the fridge.
“You’d be a nightmare to dominate,” he murmured into the fridge.
I leaned back against the kitchen counter and scratched my jaw. Yeah, there was no dominating me. But I could admit to myself that I had thought about bottoming once or twice.
In another life, maybe. I could’ve easily made a move on my best friend. If he wasn’t interested, he’d let me down gently, and he’d make sure shit wasn’t awkward after. If he was interested…he’d be safe.
I watched in silence as he hauled out soda, stacked pizza slices wrapped in tinfoil, and something in a Styrofoam box. When he flipped it open, I saw something deep-fried, possibly mozzarella sticks. And wings. We loved wings.
He plated everything and set the first one to sixty seconds in the microwave. Then he slid me a Coke along the counter and found a spot across from me, at the island.
“No witty comeback from KC Hayles,” he noted. “You must be miles away.”
Quite the opposite, huh? I was right here.
“Do you ever bottom?” I asked.
He was taken aback by the question, and I couldn’t blame him. We’d never discussed sex on that level. Sex was a topic reserved for kink in theory, with subs involved.
“I’m not opposed to it, if I were to meet the right man I’d have that chemistry with,” he said unhurriedly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But it hasn’t happened thus far, and I feel more at home in being a Top.”
I nodded slowly, the words resonating. I felt the same way.
I hesitated with my next question, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, and it was fucked up. I had no right to be…yeah, what was I? Territorial was too strong of a word, but I did feel possessive of what we had as best friends. I couldn’t say I longed for the day he met the man he was going to marry—if that was his thing. I knew kids weren’t.
Before I’d met Noa, that hadn’t been my scene either. He was special. More than that, he wasn’t an infant or a toddler. I couldn’t imagine waking up in the middle of the night because a baby was screaming bloody murder.
I cleared my throat and opened my Coke, and it was much easier to pretend I found the can interesting.
“You’ve never introduced me to a boyfriend,” I said.
Okay, so it wasn’t a question as much as a statement.
“No,” he confirmed.
Was that all he had to say? We weren’t kids anymore. We couldn’t even see thirty in the rearview. I hoped I’d long since shown I accepted and loved him the way he was—and that I was nothing like my folks.
The microwave dinged, and Lucian didn’t move.
I felt parched as fuck, so I gulped from my soda.
The earth wasn’t spinning as fast anymore. I wasn’t worried I’d have to throw up or anything. The falafel was doing its job, soaking up alcohol and settling my stomach.
“I don’t know who I should’ve introduced you to,” he added after a while. “Any relationship under four months is too short to know what’s going to happen, and I’ve only had one or two going over that time.” He paused briefly. “I thought about asking you to come out for beers with me and Eli, my first sub, but first we couldn’t find a date, and then we broke up. I wanted to explore more high-protocol, and he just wanted the extra spice in the bedroom.”
Extra spice in the bedroom.
