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I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ve been trying to distract him from, you know…everything. The fire, responsibilities toward the community, his urge to put Marcus in the hospital…”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t have to concern himself with Marcus. I will deal with him on Friday, and I’m not backing down.”
Archie smiled ruefully. “That doesn’t stop our Doms from wanting to go caveman on that absolute knob.”
I grinned.
Absolute knob.
He was so funny.
“Okay, fork it over.” I extended my hand. “I’ll write him a message from you that’ll make him blush. Don’t be surprised if he takes you the minute he gets back.”
“Oh, challenge accepted.” He opened his phone for me and pulled up his text conversation with Greer before handing it over to me. “Don’t send it before I get back, please. I’m gonna go see if Kyla’s asleep yet.”
“Understood.”
I tapped my chin and started thinking about dirty things that could get Greer going, and I had to keep in mind that Archie wasn’t a traditional masochist in the sense that I was. We’d talked a little about it yesterday, and he’d said, “In all my thirty-three years on this planet, I’ve loathed physical pain, whether it’s spanking or tripping over Kyla’s toys or scraping my knees as a young boy. But I do love to suffer for Master. Endurance, stamina, edging, predicament bondage—I love pushing myself for his pleasure.”
I saw the appeal of that type of masochism too.
“Make him blush…” Archie chuckled to himself on his way out of the kitchen. “It’s like you don’t know how filthy he is.”
“Uh, I don’t,” I replied pointedly. “He hasn’t hosted any overly filthy demos when I’ve been around, and he won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
So, yeah. No. I didn’t know how filthy Greer could be.
“You know that’s not how it is,” Archie told me. “We’ll discuss this when I get back.”
Uh-huh.
I stared at the screen and waited for the right words to come to me. Their last conversation had been short; Greer had asked Archie to pick up canned peaches for Kyla and deodorant for Sloan. It’d been sent today, so maybe Greer and Sloan had stayed in the truck while Archie got groceries.
Okay, so the sext had to be centered around their high-protocol dynamic. More Master and slave than Sadist and brat. Sweet and filthy. Devotion and worship.
It wasn’t too difficult to tap into that mind-set. The subbie in me craved something like that for myself.
All right, here we go.
Waiting for you to come home, and all I can think about is worshiping your perfect body. It’s impossible to pick a favorite when every moment with you is
I stopped typing when I heard a quiet voice coming from the baby monitor by the microwave.
“You’re supposed to sleep, my darling.”
Kyla cooed in response. I smiled and jumped down from the counter, and I walked over to where the monitor stood.
“You want Dada to sing?”
Oh man, it would be so easy to eavesdrop. I wanted to hear him sing a lullaby. But I figured it would be a crap move. For all I knew, it was a private moment for the two of them.
So I pressed the speaker button to let him know I could hear him.
“You can sing for me too,” I said.
It was quiet for a second before he let out a surprised laugh. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting an audience.”
I smiled and shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me, and then I refocused on the message.
Waiting for you to come home, and all I can think about is worshiping and licking every inch of your perfect body. It’s impossible to pick a favorite when each moment with you is a dream come true. Now…please hurry home, Master, so I can beg to suck your cock, beg to swallow every drop, and beg to kneel at your feet where I belong as your property.
Not too shabby, huh? Maybe Greer wouldn’t blush—I mean, of course he wouldn’t—but if this didn’t turn him on, there was something wrong.
“No singing?” I asked Archie through the speaker.
“Looks like I don’t have to,” he answered quietly. “She’s falling asleep. Sometimes all it takes is brushing my fingers over her tummy.” He paused. “Not entirely unlike my approach when I want Master to take a nap.”
I snickered behind my hand.
Then I noticed the time. Greer would be back any minute now, so I decided to read the text to Archie.
“…and beg to kneel at your feet where I belong as your property,” I finished. “If you like it, I can send it right now before he gets here.”
“Jesus,” Archie whispered. “It’s perfect. Send away, you smut peddler—just…no text speak, right?”
I did an internal fist pump and pressed send. “Nope, I write the goodest. And that’s my Christian name, by the way. Smut Peddler.”
He chuckled softly.
“Should I start setting the table?” I wondered. “I already cleared the guest room of my stuff, and I changed the sheets for TenShay.”
