“You won’t even be here.” I can’t stop that from coming out, and I scowl at the way his eyes widen slightly, like I’ve just shown him something about myself he didn’t expect to see. Well, fuck him, he’s not supposed to see me at all. “So, no, I don’t think you’ll be teaching me anything. But I know a guy who’s got a firm hand and an interest in me, so maybe I’ll call him up while you’re gone. Tell him I need somehelpbeing good.”
Yeah, I sink a lot of innuendo into that. Fuck you, I’m trying to distract him from the fact that I basically gave away how much I don’t want him to leave me alone in this fake fiancé life.
But he’s not having it. He’s flat, emotionless, as stainless-steel as ever. “No visitors, no overnight stays away from the apartment, no solitary contact with anyone not vetted by my security team.”
“So… no sex appointments with my Daddy fuckbuddy?” His hold on my jaw flexes slightly, and I think maybe I’m finallygetting to him with that nickname drop.Oh, he notices the Daddy word, hm?
“Exactly.”
“Well that’s hardly fair. What if he’s my boyfriend? You’re going to keep me from the love of my life?”
That gets his attention. He lifts my chin higher, like he’s trying to look deeper into my eyes. “He’s not.”
“How would you know?”
“People in love don’t look at me the way you look at me.”
Fuck him.“Oh yeah? How do I look at you?”
“Like you want me.”
“Ha!” And I reach down and palm my crotch through my jeans, lewd and intentionally off-putting. “Have you ever once seen me get turned on for you? Since you’re a fucking robot, I’ll let you in on a human secret–if I wanted you, you’d know.”
I guess my inability to get hard or stay hard is coming in handy after all, for this bratty fucking tantrum I’m having.
And I think I’ve finally made him a little mad, or maybe even more amused, I can’t tell the difference with him, because instead of backing off, the fucker surprises me by looking down at it. Staring, really. And not even doing anything else. Just staring. My cheeks heat and I slide my hand away, suddenly feeling put on the spot. He was supposed to get annoyed and leave, not… not… like, stare at me like that. He called my bluff, and I fucking hate that. Hate how much I don’t hate it.
“No,” he commands, low and threatening andfuuuck, “don’t back off now. If you want to hold it, if you want to be a brat, then go for it. I’ll watch you be a brat, Tommy. If you want to put on a show and prove how much you don’t want me around, how much you don’t need me, then go right ahead. But when you’re done, you’ll have to face the consequences.”
Since I’m incapable of not meeting a dare, I slide my hand right back onto my dick and flex my hips up, being even moreridiculous than before. “Like what? Oooh, I know, spank me. Then I won’t need my Daddy friend at all. I’ll count for you.”
“No. I think you’d like that too much,” he says, somehow totally correct, and how the fuck did he know that? “So no spanking. I think… time-out would be a more appropriate punishment for acting so immature, so in need of attention. What do you think, Tommy? You’ll stand in the corner, and stare at the wall, and hold really, really still while I watch you, stand behind you, and make sure you behave, make sure you take that consequence like a good boy.”
Oh shit.I suck in a sharp breath and squirm because I’m about to get turned on and I just can’t right now, it’s too much, I feel too vulnerable. I yank my head away from his hold and shove at his chest, panicked and off balance. “Get the fuck away from me!”
He lets my chin go but his wide palm lands on my chest, pressing me into the seat and grounding me. I grab his wrist and surprise both of us by clinging to it, keeping his hand there, rather than throwing it off. He pushes his palm against me while I try to control my harsh panting. But I can’t, I can’t. His eyes drop to my open mouth, and he very deliberately inhales–long and slow and full of an unspoken command.
He exhales. He inhales. He exhales. And I’m breathing with him, just like I did after the boxing match, when I’d lost my mind and needed violence, but got his care and attention instead.
“There you go. You’re alright, Tommy.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter weakly. My head hangs between my shoulders, and I’m embarrassed and confused. What do I do now? I shake my head at myself, and cling harder to his hand.
I’m losing my mind, I know it. We both know it, even the driver probably knows it. I can’t stop myself though. I can’t stop. He’s too much, he’s too close, and he’sleavingand I’ll be locked back in Kira’s apartment and this sucks and I hate it here andI want to go home but I also want to stay and that’s confusing and frustrating and I want him to stop making me feel so many things.
“Tommy,” he says conversationally, like I’m not holding his hand captive. “Are you trying to tell me something? Something you need?”
I freeze, and shudder, and feel weirdly naked. “No.”Wait, is that my voice? Pouty and sullen? Whiny and small? I’m so stupid, such an idiot!I clear my throat, letting anger heat my tone back up into something more normal for me. “No. I don’t need anything.”
“Hm.”
I wish he would stop looking at me like that. Like I’m a puzzle. I wish he’d stop looking at me at all.
But as he stands and gently untangles my death grip on his wrist, as he leans in and runs his fingers along the seatbelt again like he’s checking it one more time, as he tilts my head up with a hand on my jaw, looks me in the eye, and says, “e good, Tommy. I’ll know if you aren’t.” Well, as he does those things, I realize that no, I don’t wish that.
And when he closes the door, taps the roof and the driver pulls away from the curb, leaving Young-gi behind, I realize I kind of wish the opposite. I stare unseeing out the window as the world passes by. Not quite dissociating, not quite present, either.
The streetlights blur past and my skin prickles with leftover adrenaline. I replay it all: his hand on my jaw, the way I grabbed at my crotch in front of him, the way he looked at me, at my dick, like all I am is a brat having a tantrum–and itwasa tantrum.
