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My phone buzzed again, but this time it was a call. I answered when I saw Wade’s name. “Yes?”
“Sir, I’m back.”
I acknowledged him with a grunt. “Come upstairs.” I ended the call without waiting for an answer.
Five minutes later the front door opened and closed, and Wade appeared at the threshold of the bedroom. He twisted his hands together, wincing while he peered around as though he couldn’t bring himself to look at me. Finally, he ducked his head.
“Sir?”
I strode toward him and stopped right before our shoes touched. Hooking my finger under his chin, I raised his face until our gazes met. “Pack as many clothes as you can. Only decent clothes. You’re coming to stay with me.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t understand.”
“What do you understand about a BDSM lifestyle, Pretty?” I shifted closer and trailed my finger down his cheek.
He shuddered and swallowed visibly. “That you’re my Dom and I do what you say.”
“Hm, yes, I suppose that’s right, but it’s more than that. This isn’t permanent, don’t get me wrong. I don’t particularly like you.” I didn’t miss the hurt that flashed in his eyes, but I ignored it. Cold. That’s what my ex called me. I had a wall up for a reason, and it was best to be like the Sabbatinis. Unfeeling. “But while we’re playing, I strive to have my sub’s full attention. If you live in this squalor, you will forever be distracted.”
He winced in embarrassment, another flood of red spreading across his cheeks.
“I’ll take care of you until this is over, and then you can keep everything I bought you and come back here.” I gestured around the lackluster apartment.
He bit his lip and stared at me in confusion. I supposed it didn’t make sense to someone like him who’d never really been in a relationship like ours—at least, I suspected he was a BDSM virgin—though I wouldn’t consider what we were doinga relationship, either. It was more of a... thing. We had a thing.
“Do we have an understanding?”
He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Grab theniceclothes you have.” I held out my hand. “Keys to the truck.”
He frowned but passed them over like I’d asked.
With that, I strode past him. I paused at the threshold of the bedroom and glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the truck. Don’t take long. I’m impatient.”
He gave me a slow glance, expression sadder than I’d expected after I’d told him I would let him live in my nice apartment. He forced a smile. “Yes, Sir.”
Guilt steamrolled me, but I shoved it away, deep inside with the rest of the emotions I refused to feel. It was safer that way for both of us.
I left him there to pack.
13
WADE LEE
What is happening?What is happening!?
What.
Is.
Happening?
I sucked in a deep breath as I followed Albion into his apartment. This was starting to feel normal, which was also super odd. I held my duffel bag close to my side and snuck into the apartment hot on his heels. Albion barely looked back at me, except to flick his fingers toward the door, and I rushed to shut and lock it—hoping that was what he’d wanted from me.
He didn’t have anything stern to say, so I must’ve interpreted his desires correctly.
A happy jolt blasted through me and had me feeling a little better.
