Page 23 of Fitch

I relented a sigh, because that was fair enough. I understood that because I felt it too. “Okay. I apologise. I’m just trying to make sure all your needs are met.”

“What about your needs?” he shot back, smirking. “Do I meet all of those?”

I cut him a look. He was just playing with me now. “You know damn well you do.”

He grinned, then as I pulled up at a spot, he took my phone out of the centre console.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

As I was parking the car, he held it up to my face to unlock the screen, which it did. Then he thumbed the screen, working it faster than I ever could. “I’m going to add my number. That way you can text me when and where you wanna pick me up from.”

He showed me the screen, and sure enough, there was his number with a bee emoji as his name.

“A bee?”

“Bee for boy,” he said. “I’m assuming you don’t want names.” Then he shrugged. “Or evidence, as some would call it.”

Then he sent himself a text. He handed me his phone and took out his own. “And I shall save your name as...D. Just a capitalD.Dfor daddy,Dfor Dom,Dfor damn-fine dick.”

Oh god.

He showed me the screen, and sure enough, he had my number saved under a capitalD.

“You’re a little punk,” I said.

He grinned. “Next Friday, you can punish me. And by punish, I mean hold down and fuck me really hard.”

Before I could reply, he got out of my car and walked away, grinning over his shoulder at me.

Little punk.

I sat there a few seconds, trying to catch my breath, trying to stop smiling.

Then I shook my head, pulled myself together, and went home.

I cleaned up, stripped the bed, smiling at the come stains he’d left when I’d fucked him this morning. I did laundry. I went about my day the best I could.

Housework, groceries, all that productive stuff, and after not enough sleep the night before, I fell into bed early, exhausted but never happier.

I was at the office by seven thirty on Monday morning, and I was contemplating telling Nolan that I may have begun anarrangementwith someone.

Would I tell him it was a paid arrangement?

I was undecided.

Would he care?

I doubted it. He’d probably laugh at me, clap my shoulder, and tell me to be happy. We’d always appreciated the same taste in men.

Twinks.

Young, pretty, petite, playful.

So I knew he’d understand that part.

But I didn’t have to worry about telling him or not, because he sent me a text.

Working from home today. On email if needed. Call if it’s urgent.

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