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“Damn. That’s hot.” Archie bit his lip and moved the tray closer. “Okay, time to brush on the butter mix. We use half now and half after they’ve been in the oven.”
“When did that happen?” Greer asked, taking his seat again.
I thought back. “Um, I was nineteen. He introduced me to kink and submission.”
“Was he a Daddy Dom?”
I shook my head and watched Archie show me how to brush the butter onto the knots. “No, Sir. Well, that’s not right. He is a Daddy Dom, but he didn’t play that card with me. He thought I was a little too young. Or so he’s told me afterward. He lives in DC these days, but Marcus doesn’t want me talking to him.” I leaned closer. Archie was so thorough. He made sure the butter covered the whole knot. And I had to be honest. The way he used the brush was seductive.
Was cooking a kink?
“Your turn.” Archie handed me the brush.
I scratched my head.
“Why am I not surprised to hear that about Marcus?” Greer sighed.
Yeah, I had no answer.
I didn’t want to think about Marcus today. Instead, I focused on brushing butter onto the knots, and Greer backtracked to ask me more about my introduction to kink. He’d been under the impression that I was a masochistic Little, which wasn’t wrong, but I was actually a submissive too. I loved serving my partner.
But the man who should not be named today wasn’t into that kind of structure. I mean, I definitely had rules to follow. I was just never ordered to do things for him outside the bedroom.
Could we move on from this topic now?
“So Marcus doesn’t give you chores?” Archie asked.
“Nope.” I felt the tip of my tongue at the corner of my mouth as I concentrated on applying the butter. I had to ensure the herbs and garlic were brushed on evenly. “I don’t know what he’d have me do anyway. He has a cleaning service that comes once a week. He doesn’t even wash his clothes. Someone does it for him. He prefers to eat out, and he’s not into protocol and stuff.”
There were Daddies, Daddy Doms, Daddy subs, Daddy switches… Marcus was a combination of Daddy and Daddy Dom. He made decisions but wasn’t looking to be served in that way.
“Are you?” Greer wondered. “Into structure and protocol, I mean.”
“Sir, I’m autistic. Without structure, I die.” Only half a joke. “There! Did I do a good job? I didn’t fuck them up, did I?”
Archie smiled and inspected the garlic knots. “You did an excellent job, love. Now they’re going into the oven for about seven minutes, and then we eat.”
Good, ’cause I was totally starving!
“I’ll go wash up,” I announced.
I caught Greer eyeing me pensively before I ducked out of the kitchen, and he had to do his digging later. I didn’t even know what he was digging for, or why he and Sloan felt the need to observe me like I was some painting.
I’d much prefer it if they studied me like John had once studied me in London. He’d told me I had the potential for being his muse, and he’d wanted me to stay with him. But it wasn’t in the cards for us, and he’d been kind of right about our age difference. It was a little too big. I’d sent him a secret birthday card last year when he turned fifty.
As I washed my hands, face, and arms in the downstairs bathroom, I realized I had to start a list of changes I wanted to implement if Marcus and I were to have a future. For one, I wanted to be able to talk to John again. I’d been so close to recruiting him to Mclean! For two, if Marcus was going to play with other Littles, I wanted the option of playing with others too.
Not that long ago, I’d explained to Master Greer that Marcus needed to keep other Littles at hand in order to be the best Daddy for me. And Greer’s reaction, the way he’d raised his brows and let his disbelief slip before he’d composed himself, had caused me to think twice about the whole thing.
I’d become fucking sick. And it hurt. It hurt to think back on so many things that Marcus had made sound perfectly reasonable, and I had defended his actions when others wondered what the hell was going on, from Lane and my mom to Greer and now Sloan and Archie too. Oh, and Shay and Cam—when they’d messaged me yesterday.
In what goddamn universe did a Top require playing with others to be good for one?
It seemed…manipulative. In the light of day.
I gusted out a breath and stared at my face in the mirror.
Could I honestly say I was in love with Marcus anymore?
Because what was love, anyway? This past year, I’d had this worry in my stomach. Guilt and worry and the feeling that I owed him everything.
