Page 25 of Sugar Baby Mine

He’s right, even as I utter the words—“Yes,I am.”

“Go to bed,”Ben says, making me want to pout.“I’ll see you on Sunday.”

That’s the only thing that’s going to get me through Saturday at this point. Which issad, because I’ve spent less than three hours with this man and he’s already got me wrapped around his cock like I want to own it. And I haven’t even seen it yet.

I roll onto my side and let out a sigh. “Fine. Good night, Ben.”

“Good night, Emme.”

The line quiets as I end the call, and I’m tempted to throw my phone across the room. I shove it under my pillow and squeeze my eyes shut. I know it’ll take a long time for me to fall back asleep. I feel the minutes tick by in long drags as I try to think of anything but tonight’s events—of anything other than Ben.

It’s fucking hard.

Eventually I open my eyes again and the light is streaming in through my window, shining across the bed right in my face. I swat at it like that’s going to get rid of it. I’m not a morning person by any means, even if it’s afternoon by the time I wake up. I glance at my phone before heading into the bathroom to shower. At least the hot water might do me some good, since my body vehemently refused to want to actually do anything last night after I got through the door.

I stand in the shower till the water runs cold. With numb skin, I pull on my robe and stretch my fingers and toes until the warmth returns. Running my brush through my wet hair, I leave it to air dry and go through my skin care routine that I only bother with a couple days out of the week. On a good day, I’ll wash my face and put some moisturizer on. On a bad day, I need something else to occupy my time, my hands. And today’s a bad day.

Not because of last night, but like…because of last night.

Bad in the way that I can’t stop thinking about every moment from yesterday. Second guessing myself, my actions, wondering if I’m doing something crazy or something I’ll regret down the line. My mind wanders, stretching toward each and every possibility, an endless journey that I have to reign in before it consumes me.

Blowing a raspberry at myself in the mirror, I seek out the kitchen while unlocking my phone, opening the link, and downloading the file that Ben sent me at dinner.

There’s a sticky note on the freezer with a frowny face—onefruit or vegetable every day.

I pivot between the fridge and the fruit bowl, trying to decide what I’m going to snack on until I remember there are also mandarin orange cups in the pantry. Even though those aren’t fresh, they’re still fruit. It’s a good-size portion, though I could actually eat two cups and still want more. My phone buzzes in my hand—I plant my feet on the floor, my limbs vibrating before I make myself pull the fridge handle and yank it open.

Pulling out a bag of baby carrots, I move to sit at the kitchen table, ignoring the pile of dishes in the sink that I’ve been meaning to do later for days now. Crunching down on a carrot, I pull up the link Ben sentagain, download the fileagain, and read the text.

‘Not a Checklist’ negotiation sheet for BDSM. Interesting. I’ve filled out sexual exploration questionnaires and done kink tests, but not something quite like this.

Look at this as a collection of ideas that may be useful to you in understanding yourself or that you may want your partner to know about you.

I read the top portion, absently crunching on carrots while grabbing an open envelope from the discarded pile of mail from the basket in the center of the table and hunting for a pen. Clicking the top of the pen, I scan the columns:

What I want from this session

When we’re done

How you treat me

What happens in my head

Pain

Intimacy

Sex

Dominance and submission

It goes on for a couple more categories. My heart gives an annoying little flutter, because this is honestly great. It reallygives you a glimpse of what’s in your partner’s head, what makes them tick. It would be useful for any set of partners.

Scanning the sentences for what resonates most as the sheet instructed, I finish another carrot. There are several sentences that stand out, like they were already written in bold ink, drawing my eye. I write them down on the back of the envelope.

I want to feel vulnerable with you.

I want to work for your approval, knowing that I only get it if I succeed.

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