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* * * *
Our Uber driver was remarkably talkative for the late hour. Alastair took pity on me and made small talk so I could stare out of the window as snow drifted down from the cloud-filled sky. When we got home, Alastair sat on the sofa and cuddled with me as I came down from the high. The heat of my ass and the throb of pain there kept me grounded in reality, and a sense of being in good hands pervaded me.
“That was,” I said, glancing at his profile, “not exactly what I’d been expecting.”
He glanced my way with a smile. “Me neither. I had bigger, more adventurous plans for you.”
“What? Really?”
He nodded. “Yes. But once I got you decked out, all I wanted to do was put you over my knee.”
“Huh. What were you going to do to me?”
“Well, I had plans for the spanking bench.”
“Jesus. Is that worse than an over-the-knee spanking?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think over-the-knee is more humiliating and debasing personally, but some subs really get off on the bench and the whole objectification thing.”
“I want to try the bench next time, if I have any say about it.”
“Of course, you have a say about it,” he said. “I want to make you happy, Toby. And expand your horizons.”
“Good. Great.”
“The nice thing about what we did tonight, though, is that”—he threw me a devilish look—“we don’t actuallyneedthe Bordello for stuff like that, although the ambience is very sexy and cool. I can just as easily pull you across my knee at home.”
I blinked at him. “Oh.”
It was entirely possible that Alastair had an ulterior motive for asking me to move in with him, but I can’t say I objected to it.
* * * *
Alastair dropped me off at Molly’s for my shift on Monday, then went back to his place to clear some things out of the guest room, which would be my own space while we lived together. It still seemed kind of surreal, but I couldn’t wait to get my things in there and clear the stuff I gave a fuck about out of my mom’s place.
I’d texted her that I was just having fun and I’d be back soon, only to placate her.All lies. I didn’t actually know why she cared so much. From all the things she’d said about me being a hassle and a mooch, you’d have thought she’d be happy I was gone. But I don’t think my mom actually knew how to be happy.
I hated to think of the state the place would be in when we got there on Tuesday, since I was the only one who ever did any cleaning. Huh, maybe that was why she was mad. She’d lost her live-in maid service and errand runner.
I hadn’t had a cigarette since Alastair had spanked my ass over his lap in the Bordello. I had thrown the rest of the pack in the trash bin outside the club. I was done with that, and now that I wasn’t living in a home filled with someone else’s second-hand smoke, I had an actual chance of kicking the habit. I was trying to be a good boy. For once I had an older person in my corner who actually cared about me, and I wanted to please him. And I actually didn’t want to die of lung cancer like my mom probably would, unless she OD’d first.
It wasn’t easy, and I found my nerves on their last edge a lot of the time. Alastair assured me that my body would settle down after a while, and in the meantime, he’d distract me enough that I’d be able to stick to my decision. He’d told me to text him if the urge to smoke got too strong to manage by myself, and we’d figure it out together.
Robin and Patrick were in the staff room at Molly’s. They stood and applauded when I came in and dropped my bag by my locker.
“Oh, fuck off,” I said.
“Oh no, Toby. We are not going to do that. You need to tell us what that gorgeous hunk of a man did to you in the Bordello,” Robin stated.
“Uh, that’s confidential intel, don’t you know,” I said, getting my stuff out and dumping it on the bench.
Robin put a hand to his chest. “Confidential intel! Have we not been servers together for over a year?”
“So?”
“So, Toby, I think that I deserve at least a soupçon of information about your tryst with Alastair Kenney.”
“Why?”
