Page 42 of Mob Knight

I don’t know him well enough to share that thought or to know whether it was significant to him. Despite how big a bitch Deirdre was when I met her, they were together for a while. It must have been special to him if he had a formal arrangement with her. That prompts me to wonder if he had some place for them to go.

He said he doesn’t bring women to his home, but did he have a condo or a favorite hotel room? Something that was just for them? I don’t like the spike of jealousy I feel. I have no right to it yet. I can’t help it. I don’t want to be ugly and conniving like Deirdre was.

I don’t think I am, and I don’t think I ever would be. But I don’t want to have the same emotions she did that drove her todo what she did. I can’t imagine ever spewing such a lie to trap a guy or humiliate a woman he was with. She did that on purpose. I don’t enjoy understanding her because it makes me think I could be capable of the same thing.

I don’t expect the affection to continue as he kisses my forehead. I lean away, and he peppers my temple and cheeks with soft pecks. I turn my head toward him. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. If the evening is over or if he wishes to move on to something else, but I could die a lucky woman after what we’ve just shared.

It wasn’t necessarily the longest or the most elaborate scene, but I’ve never finished feeling this fulfilled before, even after my best scenes with other Doms or vanilla sex with guys I’ve dated and been seriously emotionally attached to.

Replete would be the word that comes to mind.

“Cailín, how are you doing?”

“I’m well, sir. How about you?”

“If well is the best you can say, then I didn’t do it very well.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Sir, if you did it any better, I think I might be in heaven by now.”

He chuckles along with me and gives me another soft kiss against my lips.

“I agree. If it’d been any more than that, my heart might have given out. What do you want to do, Joey? Do you want to do another scene, or are you done? What would you prefer?”

I just wondered the same thing, and now that he’s asking me to decide, I’m a complete blank. I don’t know what to say. If I say I’m done, will that be the end of things? Will it disappoint him? Will he think I can’t be what he needs and wants as a sub? Or is he done and wants an excuse to leave?

“Joey, this isn’t some trick question. If you’re tired, or you’ve just had enough, then we can leave. If you want to continue, thenwe can stay in here or go somewhere else, but this isn’t the only time I want to see you unless...”

“No, I want to see you again.”

I hear the hesitation in his voice, and I can’t spit my answer out fast enough. If he wants to see me, then I want to see him. Or rather, I want to see him, regardless. At least I’ll admit my thoughts to him if he’s brave enough to go first. I feel like complete chicken shit putting him in that position, as though just because he’s the guy he should lead the way. That I shouldn’t express my opinions unless he has first, but it’s a lot less scary if I’m responding to him than me waiting for rejection.

I know it’s not fair to expect that of him. Perhaps he fears the same things I do, but he’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. That’s how he comes across even when he’s being the strong silent type.

“I don’t know, sir.” I remember what the original question was.

“Cormac. We’re not scening right now, Joey. We might be in here, and we might be at a club, but this isn’t a scene. This is just the two of us deciding what we want together. I don’t want to make those decisions on my own.”

“I want more tonight, Cormac. But that was so perfect I don’t know that I have the energy to match that or top that. I definitely would like to do it again sometime soon.”

“Tomorrow?”

He asks so softly I almost don’t hear him. It’s his turn not to meet my gaze. He looks like he’s staring at me, but I can tell he’s looking at my nose rather than my eyes. I know because it’s a tactic I used with my father and uncles when I was growing up. I did it when I was too scared to look them in the eye.

“I don’t have plans, so that would be really nice.”

I wonder at what point he might bring up a formal contract and some type of established schedule or routine or whatever it would be for him since my guess is his schedule is evenmore unpredictable than mine. I often work later than I expect because home visits or hospital visits can take longer than I prepare for.

“Joey, let’s try this out for a month or two, and if we like how things are going, then we can draft a contract and make this formal. I don’t want to push you into something that might not be right for you after all.”

“And I don’t want you to feel obligated to offer me something if you realize it’s not right for you either.”

“Thank you.”

Is that relief, or am I reading too much into those two words? Probably reading too much into it, but as the endorphins and dopamine continue to wear off—it’s not quite sub drop, but I’m not feeling as blissful as I was a few minutes ago—he can tell. It’s obvious he’s an experienced Dom because he pulls me closer. The hand that was stroking my arm now strokes my head and my hair down my back. I close my eyes, and I could drift off if we were anywhere other than a play place.

“Joey, how did you get to McGinty’s?”

“I took a ride-share.”

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