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My Bishop.
It was actually a good question, though.
Hmm.
Chapter 23
Ian
“You’ve been looking at that all night. What are you doing?” Kenton’s head popped over my shoulder, making the phone go tumbling as I squeaked.
If I’d been sober, I could’ve caught it but not sober meant the floor caught it.
The floor was greedy and fast.
“Why are you hiding?” Kenton poked my side, nearly climbing over me as he seemed to forget regular people had personal boundaries.
Personal boundaries.
Oh, what were Daddy and Uncle Cohen doing with their personal boundaries?
That was such a good word.
Phrase.
Words?
What made a phrase?
“I can’t tell if he’s mean, confused, or way too drunk.” Kenton snuggled against me on the floor, pushing the coffee table back and making the pizza seem very far away. “Someone needs to fix Ian. He’s broken.”
Emerson snorted from somewhere on the other side of the coffee table. “He’s not broken. He’s distracted because he doesn’t have his Daddy and his…his not Daddy Dom?”
He popped up wearing a frown and not much else.
Why didn’t he have a shirt on?
“What do you call a not Daddy Dom?” Emerson’s head bobbed from side to side like a distracting boat. “Do you call him anything? Is he just Cohen? Is he really not straight?”
If anyone was distracted and too drunk, it was Emerson.
“Um.” Huh? “What did you ask?”
It was too many words to keep up with.
Lane was just sober enough to be helpful, though. He reached over and patted Emerson’s head. “I’ll ask.”
Emerson looked either grateful or nauseous…it was hard to tell.
Lane charged right back in, though. He was very helpful and probably needed more slushy in his cup if he could remember what Emerson had said. “He wanted to know what you call Cohen. Like, is he your not Daddy Dom or something…Emerson was confused.”
Giving Emerson a beaming smile, he patted his head again. “We’ll figure it out.”
I wasn’t sure if that was sweet or annoying, but Emerson just kind of fell into Lane, so maybe he thought it was cuddly?
“What’s Cohen?” Was that the question?
Lane nodded as Emerson gave a grunt from what seemed to be Lane’s lap. “Yes, please.”
“Um. Well…” He was human. Would that be helpful? “He’s…he’s very nice and he likes lists.”
Yes, that was helpful. Everyone nodded.
“He makes good pancakes. Better than Daddy but don’t tell.” I pointed around the room, making sure that I got all of them without tipping over. “It’s a secret we take to our grave. Got it?”
It would hurt Daddy’s feelings and we didn’t want that.
Everyone nodded seriously and Emerson even crossed his finger over his heart. “We won’t tell.”
Good.
Good.
What had I been saying?
Oh, Cohen.
“He reads me books and he’s got a flogger.” The giggles that escaped the silly boys said I’d already told them about that. Good. It was important. “He buys me good presents like my bunny and my restraints.”
They all kind of tipped over…except for Emerson. He was already on the floor, so he sat up like it was somehow bouncy.
Was it bouncy?
I poked it, but the floor seemed the same as usual to me.
“Did you break my floor?” Emerson ignored my question and leaned over the coffee table.
Was he wearing pants?
Had his clothes just fallen off?
“Cohen tied you up?” Emerson’s question seemed very loud, but no one else complained as they sat up and stared at me.
“Um, I told you about him tying me up with the flogger. Not with the flogger. That wouldn’t work. That ceiling thingy.” Hadn’t I?
Heads nodded, so I had…and now I was even more confused.
“Did you forget?”
Emerson snorted and looked offended for some reason, but Lane just patted him on the head again. “I’ll fix it. It’s okay.”
I hoped someone could fix it because they clearly weren’t thinking right. Were they dehydrated? That could make people very weird. Oh, they needed more slushy. That had ice in it and that was made from water. Right?
It counted.
Maybe?
I started to ask Lane since he seemed like he would know the answer, but he was fast with words and beat me to it. “Tell us about the restraints you got as a present.”
Oh, those?
“They’re silky and long and Bishop tied me up.” I giggled as my face got hot, but I knew I had to tell them so that they could get them too. Kenton said friends had to share. He was very firm about that rule. “They’re soft but make you stuck and it’s so nice.”
I didn’t think the sharing rule said I had to talk about squirming and licking Daddy, so I just forgot that part.
“Did I tell you they’re soft?” That was important, right?
“Did he use them on you?” Emerson rested his elbows on the coffee table and waved his butt around.
Were his pants flesh-colored?
“Who?” He needed to ask better questions. There were a lot of hes running around.
“Cohen.” Lane was helpful and cleared up that question.
