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I smiled and sank down even more, excited to finally spend the holidays with someone who was just as lonely as I was, who didn’t have a family and wanted to spend time with me as much as I wanted to spend with them.
The holidays couldn’t come soon enough. While I couldn’t spend thousands or even hundreds of dollars on him for a gift, I had—what I think was—the best present for him that I had ever picked out for anyone. And I couldn’t wait to see his face on Christmas morning.
37
steven
“You’re here early,” Sierra said, glancing up from the stack of wrapped gifts on her bed. Halfway through shoving them into a large red sack, she stopped and smiled, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. “Did Heather let you in?”
“No,” I said, sliding my hands into the pockets of my suit pants and leaning against her doorframe, my chest lighter than it usually was this time of year. “I got in good with the security guard up front.”
She burst out into a fit of laughter, her cheeks rounding. A warm feeling spread through my chest as I watched her giggle at my little joke because we both knew that the security guard up front would never let me in without her. He hated my guts.
“Thanks for letting him in, Heather!” she said, glancing behind me.
I looked over my shoulder to see Hector’s submissive smirking wickedly at Sierra. “Have a good Christmas Eve. I’ll see you both tomorrow night for dinner. Hector invited me to come over to your place, Mr. Professor Man.”
“Heather,” Sierra scolded quietly, cheeks turning red.
“Mr. Professor Man?” I repeated, arching a brow at Sierra.
“That’s our nickname for you,” Heather said.
“Heather!” Sierra exclaimed. “You don’t have to tell him.”
My lips curled into a smile, and I hummed, “Is that so, Miss Monroe?”
After Heather giggled behind me, she padded down the hallway, and the apartment door closed. Sierra shyly bit back a smile and continued stuffing her bag with many small gifts.
“I’m Mr. Professor Man to you?” I asked, brow arched.
But my stomach twisted. It sounded like a play name, like a nickname for someone Sierra was just hooking up with. And I wondered if that was what she thought about me—someone just good enough to hook up with a few times until she found someone else.
“No, that’s who you are to my friends,” Sierra said, tying the bag. She walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, her chin on the center of my chest as she looked up at me. “You’re Sir to me.”
I hardened against her stomach and captured her jaw in my hand. “Am I?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Does that mean you aren’t going to be bratty for me tonight?” I said, drawing my thumb across her lower lip and then sinking it into her mouth, letting her suck on it. “Do I get to do anything I want with you?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Depends on what it is,” she said.
“Our first private lesson,” I said, watching how she drew her tongue around my knuckle. I pressed myself harder against her, loving how submissive she was for me even if she wanted to act like she wasn’t. “Just for you.”
She leaned her upper body back slightly, staring up at me through wide and playful eyes. “What are you going to teach me tonight, Professor?” A sly smirk crossed her face. “It’d better be something good.”
“Are you suggesting that it’s never not good?” I said, stepping toward her.
She shuffled back a couple of feet, legs hitting the bed.
“Because I seem to remember you crying from how good it was last time.”
“Hmm.” She beamed, placing a finger on her lips. “I can’t seem to remember.”
