Page 33 of Obey

“Aftercare.” It’s one word, and it seems to blanket-cover a variety of things. I might need him to explain it to me more.

“And the hair washing?”

He nods. “Aftercare.”

“And the bed?”

He nods again but this time doesn’t speak.

“Aftercare.” It’s not a question, but a statement. I say the word slowly like I’m testing it out in my mouth.

I’ve read a lot of books. Some have aftercare, some don’t. But I’ve never given much thought to what I might need for my own aftercare. “I don’t know what I need.” Voicing my thoughts out loud makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. I try to wrap my arms around myself, but I’m standing in a towel, which makes everything worse.

“That’s okay. Even if you had a whole list of things written, sometimes after a scene you still don’t know what you need. It’s okay to not know. Sometimes drops can last weeks, or even take a while to hit after a scene. But if you’re with the right kind of partner they’ll be happy to help you through whatever comes after playing.” He points a finger at me. “That’s how you can tell if you’re with someone you should be with or not. If the person you’re with hauls ass after a scene, or doesn’t give a fuck, or dismisses your aftercare—those aren’t your people.”

I nod, trying to absorb the information.

“You hear me? That’s non-negotiable, Half-Pint.”

I’m still nodding. “Okay.” I hug the towel tighter to me. “So you don’t mind if I need a hug once I get dressed?”

He flinches like I slapped him. “Of course not.”

I really need to dive more into this aftercare thing. He clearly takes it very seriously. Does he need aftercare? If so, does he want me to give it to him? I’m not sure I want to open that door to conversation, but he’s so adamant about helping me with my aftercare, it only feels right I should ask him.

Thankfully, I have travel toiletries too, so my teeth are clean, and I don’t stink. It’s warmer here, so I pull out my pjs and point to the bathroom. “Be right back.”

It’s a quick dry, change, and towel dry of my hair before I’m back in the bedroom. My pjs aren’t anything sexy or revealing. In fact, they’re pretty frumpy. But I’m not trying to make him fall for me. I need him to squeeze me for bit, and I’ll be fine.

“You sure you’re down for cuddles?”

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer either, he plucks me up off the floor and drops me into his lap on the bed before curling his arms around me. Okay, fine. This is nice. It’s more than nice.

The tightness of his arms banded around me, the warmth of his breath tickling my neck as he breathes, the way my muscles melt. Tipping my head back so it hits his shoulder, I feel like a doll sitting on him.

“You okay?” He’s gruff, but the concern etched into those two words has me welling up.

I nod, afraid if I open my mouth to answer, a sob will come out. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.

“You know, it’s really easy to hit drop sometimes. Those hormones that hit during a scene drop and leave you feeling inexplicably sad and emotional. It’s totally okay. Last night was a lot. And it’s not something you’ve experienced before. Just let yourself feel.” He’s stroking my forearm with his thumb, and his voice is so soothing, so calming, it’s almost hard to believe he’s so grumpy.

I yawn, closing my eyes and settling in. Taking a quick nap won’t do any harm, right?

“That’s it. Just relax.”

“You’re really nice for a grumpy guy.” I’m mumbling, but he must make out what I say because his chest rumbles against my back as he chuckles.

“I’m a responsible dominant. I wouldn’t have encouraged you last night if I wasn’t prepared for the potential fall out today.”

“Aftercare.” My voice is thick with sleep.

“That’s right, Half-Pint. Aftercare.”

I don’t know how long he lets me nap for, or what wakes me up, but one of his thumbs is stroking the side of my face, while he’s typing on his phone with the other when I wake up.

He hums, like he knows I’m awake. “You can sleep more if you need it.”

I didn’t think a mutual masturbation session was all that big of a deal, but it clearly took its toll on me. Even thinking about it is making my body react, and I can’t afford that when I’m curled into him like this. What if he notices?

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