Not Safe for Work (21 page)

But he’d let the subject drop, and he didn’t need to know that I could still feel the softness of Rick’s lips against mine. Grinning like a fool, I pressed the button for the elevator. No, Mr. Mitchell was not going to kill my good mood today.

All the way back to the NSFW Zone, despite the sluggishness that had plagued me since this morning I couldn’t stop smiling because tonight… Rick. I didn’t have the energy for more than dinner and movies tonight, but damn, once this top drop was gone, I fully intended to make this up to him.

And I couldn’t wait.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The rest of the day crawled by. As they all did, though, it eventually wound to a close, and I was out the door at four fifty-nine. I went by the house to grab a shower and my overnight bag, let Karen know I’d be gone for the night and headed across town to Rick’s.

Just pulling into that long tree-shaded driveway was enough to knock some more of the weight off my shoulders. I was running on three cylinders at best, dragging like I was about to come down with the flu or something, but damn if the sight of Rick’s house didn’t snap me far enough out of it to at least grin a little.

And when he opened the front door and appeared, dressed down and smiling and every inch the man whose pleasure was worth the funk I was in, my heart sped up. I got out of the car and started up the walk. He smiled. I smiled. Just him and me for the night, with no work bullshit, no pressure and nothing but downtime so I could bounce back from the weekend? Oh hell yes.

“Hey,” he said as I came up the steps. “Feeling any better?”

“I am now.” I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my lips to his. Fuck. Yes. If he thought I’d made it up to him when work kept me out of his bed for far too long, he had no idea how much I intended to make it up to him this time.

Anything you want, Rick. Anything. Just keep kissing me like this.

As we drew apart, I said, “We never do make it past your front door, do we?”

“We don’t. I’m actually starting to get turned on every time I see my own front steps.”

I laughed. “Classical conditioning at its finest.”

“Yes indeed.” He gestured for me to go ahead. “Come on in.” In the foyer, he took my overnight bag. “I’ll put this in the bedroom. Go ahead and make yourself at home in the living room.”

I lifted myself up and kissed him again. “You’re the best.”

While he went upstairs, I followed the long hallway to the living room. God, but that couch looked tempting as hell—plush suede, overstuffed cushions, the kind of sofa we could both lounge on without even touching if we wanted to.

Right. As if I’d ever want to lounge on anything without being able to touch Rick. Even lying in my own bed alone was starting to feel weird.

Halfway to the couch, I stopped in my tracks. It
was
starting to feel weird, wasn’t it? We hadn’t spent all that many nights together thanks to work, but after that handful of nights, the damage was done. There may as well have been an indentation in my mattress where he’d slept a few times, and one in his where I’d spent a few blissful nights.

“Something wrong?”

His voice scared me half out of my skin, and I spun around.

“Huh? I—” Well. Way to save face. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just trying to remember if I brought everything I needed for tonight.” Eh, good enough.

Rick shrugged. “Anything you’re missing, I probably have extras, and there’s a Walgreens down the road anyway.”

“Oh.” I rolled my shoulders, wondering when they’d become so tense. “Well. Guess I’m set, then.”

If he saw through me, he didn’t let it show. “So, you game for a movie or something?”

“Definitely.”

“Something to drink?”

“I’m okay. Any booze will put me to sleep, and caffeine will have me way too wired.”

Rick wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. I hate that. When you’re too tired for an upper or a downer.”

“Yep, exactly. Give me a little time—I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He put an arm around my waist and kissed me. Then he gestured at the couch. “After you.”

One more kiss, and we moved to the couch. My initial impression was right on the money—this was the most comfortable sofa on the planet. Soft enough that I never wanted to get up, firm enough to keep my elderly spine from caving in on itself. Perfect.

Rick picked up the remote off the coffee table and clicked on the TV. “If I don’t have the show or movie you’re looking for, it doesn’t exist.”

“Hmm. Challenge accepted.”

Rick laughed and clicked the Browse feature. “Game on.”

He started scrolling. Wow, he was right. He really did have everything. Cheesy science fiction. Comedy. Horror. Bad horror. Stupid horror. Funny horror.

“You like horror, don’t you?” I asked as he scrolled through that very, very long list.

“Gets my mind off work.”

I glanced at him. “Really? That’s how you decompress after work?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “It’s cathartic. And believe me, you don’t spend much time thinking about investors and city planning ordinances when you’re holding your breath through
The Amityville Horror
.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You want to watch—”

“No, thank you. Nothing that’ll keep me awake.”

He chuckled. “Okay, how about some comedy. I think I have a few dozen sitcoms.”

“Good. Stupid sitcoms are always good for unwinding.”

“They so are. Let’s see, what do—”

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.”

“Hmm?”

“Back up.”

He scrolled up again. “What?”

“Is that…is that the complete series of
Golden Girls
?”

Rick’s cheeks colored, and he laughed sheepishly. “Uh, maybe.”

I threw him a pointed look.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “It’s the complete series of
Golden Girls
.”

“Well, that settles what we’re watching tonight.”

His eyebrows jumped. “You’re a fan?”

“You’re surprised?”

“Hmm. Good point.”

I laughed, patting his thigh. “To be honest, I resisted it for a long time because it was such a gay stereotype to love
The Golden Girls
, but goddamn.” I gestured at the screen. “How can you not?”

“How
can
you not?” He clicked select, but didn’t start the show. “Why don’t I put in a frozen pizza, and we can watch this while it cooks?”

“That sounds perfect.” I pulled him to me. “You’re spoiling me rotten, you know.”

“With frozen pizza?”

“Nothing says ‘no pressure’ like a frozen pizza and a
Golden Girls
marathon. So yes, you’re spoiling me.”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around me. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, no. But you’ve had to put up with me disappearing into work for weeks at a time, and now this, and—”

“Jon.” He kissed me softly. “Think of everything you did to me over the weekend. That domination? I need that. I need it badly.” Cupping my face, he whispered, “What kind of sub would I be if I left you hanging when you were like this, even if it
wasn’t
because of everything you did for me?”

I sighed. “I just…don’t want this getting one-sided. We both get something out of it when we’re playing.”

“Believe it or not, I do get something out of this. It doesn’t have to be all kink, all the time. And helping you back on your feet after you crash…” He half shrugged. “Kind of seems like something that’s right up a sub’s alley, you know?”

“True.” My stomach tightened, though. Deep down, I got it. I understood how subs’ minds worked. Doing things for a Dom, pleasing a Dom, taking care of a Dom—they were all forms of submission. But I’d known Doms over the years who’d taken advantage of that. Their submissives bent over backwards for them. They never complained about long hours at the office or rubbing their Dom’s feet even when the Dom was too tired to reciprocate. Everyone seemed happy right up until the day the resentment boiled over and the sub walked out the door in search of someone who treated them better.

I squeezed his hand. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if things start getting lopsided.”

“I will. And so far, everything has been great. I mean, I know you’ve been working yourself into the ground. I’ve been right there at your office. I’ve seen the demands they put on you. Hell, some of those demands have come
from me
.” He kissed my fingers. “But every time we’re together again, you’ve gone out of your way to make up for lost time. And top drop…” He shrugged. “It’s part of the game. It happens. To be perfectly honest, I knew it was coming this time.”

“How do you figure?”

“After a weekend of that kind of play and how much effort you put in to making sure I didn’t crash after things fell apart even though you were already run ragged, it was bound to take its toll on you eventually.”

I pushed out a breath. “Yeah, I guess it was. Just…promise me that if it does feel one-sided, if I’m taking more than I’m giving, you’ll say something. Please.” I struggled to hold his gaze. “Because I really want to make this work.”

Rick nodded. “So do I. And I promise. But I’m not worried at all. We’re both going to have periods where work is a nightmare and we barely have time to breathe, so I’m perfectly happy to help you get through those.”

“Likewise,” I said quietly.

“The same goes for the kink side of things.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “The other night could have been a disaster, but you realized I was in a bad place before I did. And after, you kept me from feeling like an utter failure, and you even turned something that could’ve been humiliating into an incredibly hot evening.” He brought my fingers up and kissed them again. “So when a weekend of topping me knocks you on your ass, you’d better believe I’m going to be there to help you recover. Especially if it means hanging out like this.”

I chuckled. “Well, just don’t erase
Golden Girls
, and we’ll be in good shape.”

Rick snorted. “Erase
Golden Girls
? Pfft. Please.”

Our eyes met, and we both laughed.

After a moment, his expression turned serious, and he watched his fingers trailing back and forth over mine. “To be honest, this—everything we’re doing, even right now—is exactly what I was hoping for when I put up that profile.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean downtime. Just hanging out. TV. Frozen dinner. Whatever.” He hesitated, and lifted his gaze to meet mine again. “And a Dom who not only accepts my limits but accepts his own. I’ve been with guys who try to pretend top drop isn’t a thing, and try to knuckle through even when they’re not feeling it. I don’t want someone who will still play when he’d rather not, because then it isn’t fun for either of us.”

“Like a sub who submits even when he doesn’t want to, because he thinks he has to?”

Rick nodded. “Exactly. The thing is, I’ve had Doms who are so hung up on being a Dom, and their pride is so wrapped up in it, they’re either killing themselves to be that Dom, or they’re killing me.”

“I hadn’t looked at it that way before.” I turned my hand over and slipped my fingers between his. “And I’ll cop to it—I’ve had a hard time admitting to top drop before. I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, and it’s par for the course sometimes, but damn, it is not easy to tell a submissive that I’m not in a good place.”

“I can understand that. But it’s going to happen. And neither of us is twenty anymore, so we’re not always going to be—”

“Don’t remind me,” I grumbled.

He laughed. “For what it’s worth, top drop or not, there are worse ways to spend an evening with someone than watching
Golden Girls
and shooting the shit.”

I held his gaze. God, he was so right. As much as I loved the leather and the toys and the begging, there was something to be said for switching all that off for an evening and just enjoying each other’s company. And I did enjoy his company. A lot. This was a side of Rick I hadn’t imagined before we’d slept together, mostly because I’d assumed we’d have nothing in common, but here we were.

He watched himself run his thumb along the back of mine. “Like I said, this is what I was hoping for when I put up my profile. I wasn’t very optimistic about it, but…” His eyes met mine again. “Here we are.”

“Yeah.” My heart thumped against my ribs. “Here we are.” I freed my hand and brought it up to his face, and then drew him in for a kiss, and the softness of his lips sent a shiver through me just like the very first time I’d kissed him.

Yeah, Jon. Here we are.

This wasn’t what I’d signed up for when I’d downloaded Leathr. It was so much more than I’d ever expected from someone I’d met for casual kink. A sub who was empathetic and caring for a Dom with top drop was one thing. I was hard-pressed to stay with a sub who wasn’t understanding about that.

But this felt like more. It was hard not to read into the tenderness of his kiss. Hard to figure out where it stopped being extra gentleness and sympathy, and where it became…
more
.

I touched my forehead to his. “Thank you again,” I whispered. “This is exactly what I needed tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” He smoothed my hair. “Doms need to be taken care of as much as subs do.”

I kissed him again, and as I drew back, I met his gaze, fully intending to tell him that wasn’t what I meant. But then I realized I didn’t know what I meant. And I damn sure didn’t know if I wanted to say it out loud, because things like that couldn’t be taken back all that easily.

And then I realized who I was talking to. Who I was holding, looking at, kissing. Before I could stop myself, I laughed. “Wow…”

“What? What’s so funny?”

“I…” I shook my head. “I guess I just forgot for a minute who I was with.”

He eyed me. “You—”

“I mean, I couldn’t forget I’m with you. Ever.” I kissed him again. “But I have to admit, sometimes I still catch myself thinking ‘holy shit, am I really fooling around with Rick Pierce?’”

He laughed. “What’s that mean, anyway?”

I kissed his fingers again and lowered our hands. “You do realize you’re supposed to be out of my league, right?”

Rick chuckled. “Bullshit. I’m just a guy, and so are you.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I am. The only differences between us… That’s all just stuff and money.” He ran his fingertips along my jaw. “Take all that shit out of the equation, and we’re two guys who happen to be perfectly compatible.”

My humor faded, and I held his gaze because I couldn’t look anywhere else. “Yeah, we are perfectly compatible. Which still kind of blows my mind.”

“Mine too.” He traced the edge of my jaw again. “Mostly because I was starting to think I’d have to settle for someone a lot less compatible.” He pressed his lips to mine. “And no amount of money could change that either way. It either works or it doesn’t.”