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“No, not even you.”

I tilt his head up, holding his chin, and kiss him. Jay opens his mouth for me, lets me taste the wine he must have drunk earlier, kissing as fast or as slow as I want. He’s putty in my hands, but he’s also strong and confident. He knows what he wants and who he is, maybe even better than me. It’s another reminder that we’re doing what we both need, what we both want, and that’s okay.

“Can we skip dinner and just have sex?” he asks when I pull away.

“Are you kidding me? My boy worked so hard on this meal. I insist on enjoying it.”

We sit down together, Jay watching me before he takes a bite. It’s clear he’s waiting to see what I think, craving my approval because the food in front of me is more important to him than I would have realized before today… Maybe more important to him than he realizes. It makes sense, though, when I think abouthis excitement at the restaurant, the way he wanted to pick what I ate and how he’s spoken about the chefs letting him play around in the kitchen sometimes.

I cut into the chicken, watching juices spill free. Its skin has a nice crisp brown to it, but the inside is moist. Jay doesn’t take his eyes off me as I try his dinner, the flavors of maybe paprika and brown sugar, along with more that I can’t place, bursting on my tongue. “This is incredible,” I tell him, and his pupils expand.

“Is it really incredible, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

I grin. “It’s really damn good.”

He beams again. “Taste the potatoes…and the broccoli…” When I cock a brow at him, he amends, “Please.”

I do and love it all. I make sure to tell him often during the meal, and each time, Jay nearly floats out of his chair.

“What if we did this at least one night a week?” I ask when dinner is over. “If we have time, we can do it more, but I would like you to cook for me at least once a week, different recipes. And I’m also going to try and come down to the restaurant more as well.”

Before I realize what’s happening, Jay jumps from his chair and climbs onto my lap. I scoot the chair back from the table to give him space, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and mine around his waist. “You make me so happy. You always know the perfect thing to say and do to make me feel accepted and valid. It’s like you know what I need before I do.”

“I’m not perfect. I’ll get things wrong and make mistakes, and I expect you to tell me when I do.” I push the hair off his forehead, try to find my words. “You make me happy too. I want to be who you need, maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, because your Sir loves you.”

His eyes fill with tears. They spill over, racing down his face toward his addicting smile. “I love you too. And no matter what happens, we’ll be okay.”

I take his mouth, kissing away his salty tears. Somehow, the wordswe’ll be okaysound more believable when they come from him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

JT

“Imiss myroommate,” Reggie says when I go to the apartment before work. In the week or so since Marshall and I told my parents about us, I’ve spent every night at Marshall’s house. He’s fucked me, and dominated me, and made me feel more loved than I ever have…which is sometimes strange. Not that it’s the same as parental love, of course, because that’s fucking gross, but I’ve always known I’m loved by them—sometimes too much—but I guess with Marshall it’s in a more complete way because he doesn’t ever wish I’m anything other than what I am.

“I miss you too.” I plop down on the couch beside Reggie and hug him. He has to go to work today too, but clearly, he’s not in the mood to get ready yet, since he’s sitting there in his underwear.

“How has it been with your parents? Anything new?”

“Not really. I answered one call from my mom where she tried to talk me out of being with Marshall, said I’m too young for him, that she’s worried about our lifestyle. Still, she asked if I could come home and talk to them, but I said if they can’t accept Marshall and how we love each other, then I can’t do it. The more I’m with him, the less likely I am to accept people who want to change me.”

He nods. “How’s your…Sir…doing with it?”

I sigh, feeling the emotion of our situation weighing heavily on me. “That’s the hardest part. I can tell it’s eating him up inside. He’s quieter than usual. I’ll notice him spacing off and sort of disconnecting—not in a way that makes me feel likeit’s because of me, just that he’s struggling—but he doesn’t talk about it. He loves my dad so much. We’re the only family Marshall has, so now I’m the only family he has.” And Jesus, I hope I’m enough. What if he one day regrets choosing me?

“Fuck…that’s hard. But he loves you…he wants you. I hope you’re not doubting that you’re enough.”

I’m not…but I am. It’s all so fucking confusing. Sometimes I wish feelings and situations could all be yes or no, left or right, black or white, but they rarely are. Life is too nuanced for our emotions not to be. “I know he loves me, and that’s what I’m focusing on right now.”

“That’s really all you can do.” He lays his head on my shoulder and kisses my neck. It could be a friendly thing, yes, but I can’t deny it makes a little action go on beneath my pants. Love doesn’t stop attraction. Still, Marshall and I have rules in place for this.

“So…I don’t know if that’s a sorry-about-your-life kiss or a wanna-get-off-together-bestie kiss, but as I mentioned before, I can’t hook up with you without asking Sir first.”

Reggie laughs and pulls back. “Well, it was just a sorry-about-your-life kiss, but now I wanna get off. Cool to know he’s not the jealous type. I know you’re all in love and shit now, though…so what are your thoughts on that? Not just with us.”

I shrug. “I don’t think sex has to mean what a lot of people say it does. The emotion behind it is what matters. I don’t know that I’m the right person for an open relationship, but I wouldn’t be against Marshall and I playing with someone else sometimes. Being with the other person would be about the act. Being with Marshall is about the love. There are really toxic relationships out there, people being horrible to each other, yet the two of us making this decision together is somehow wrong?”

He laughs. “Wow. You have strong feels about that.”

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