Page 81 of Please, Sir

“Whatever it is, I feel it, too,” he says, sealing his words with another kiss, this one deep and wet, our tongues sliding together. “You could also be feeling a little sub drop, baby,” he says, using that affectionate term again.

My brows furrow. “I’ve never heard of that.”

He takes a step back from me, the slight distance imparting subtextual importance on what’s to come. “When I realized… what I like,” he starts, reaching out to trace a pink mark left behind from one of his braided tails. “I started to read about it online. I tried to read about the type of care to give to a future partner, if they happen to share the same interests as me.”

I reach out and tug his soft but still very fucking impressive cock. “Oh yeah?”

He nods, and I love that he doesn’t even flinch at the casual way I touch and explore his body. “Yeah. I mean, I never thought I would and truthfully, reading about it was just… an escape. Somewhere for my brain to go in lieu of a relationship. But I did learn a lot. And after a partially challenging scene,” he says, alluding to what we do in the bedroom–the filthy mouth on him, all his leather toys, the flogging, the whipping, the pain and pleasure. “Sometimes the submissive may feel a rush of emotions, with a wide range of where your mind can go. As your dom, I’m here to walk you through that, tell you that I appreciate you so much, and thank you so much for sharing your body with me, for handing me such unbridled trust.” He dusts kisses on both of my palms. “And if there’s anything you need or want to talk about, we can.”

I shake my head. “I feel better just having this talk.” I glance down at one of the marks left behind on my forearm. “These do kind of sting.” He steps to the shower and turns it on, leaving the large glass door wide open. Steam slowly fills in around us.

“I’m gonna get you cleaned up and put some arnica on those, and we’ll get you some tylenol and water, okay?”

I nod. My heart hums just listening to all the ways he’s already figured out how to take care of me. “That sounds… really good.”

We get into the shower together, and everything is absolutely perfect. Three words move through my mind, but I save them, because so much has already happened tonight. They can wait for another day.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

Three MonthsLater

“Last game!” Jo Jo chants, bouncing on the balls of her feet at the kitchen bar.

“Hold still, I still have one more star,” Jasmine says, holding a gold makeup pencil to Jo Jo’s cheek.

“You excited?” my daughter asks me, finally settling so her friend can finish their face flare. It’s homecoming, and it’s the last home game, which means the team goesall out. Gold jerseys for the football players, face paint and glitter hair for all the cheerleaders (I know this because I found two bath towels coated in glitter ten minutes ago and about lost my mind), and the coaches even wear cheer uniforms.

I am looking forward to homecoming.

I nod. “Of course. I love watching you cheer,” I say, taking a sip of coffee.

“How can you drink coffee this late?” Jasmine asks me, stepping back to survey her work on my daughter’s cheek. “Doesn’t it keep you up?”

I smile. “I’m a night owl anyway.” And I’ve got unspeakable plans on the books for my cheerleading coach tonight.

“Does Miss Rivers want me to do her face, too?” Jasmine asks, recapping her pen as Jo Jo turns to check out the work.

“Oh, Jas, it looks so good!” Jo Jo beams, spinning to show me.

“Looks good,” I tell her. “You want me to check if Miss Rivers wants some… stars on her cheeks too?” I ask the girls, who have moved on to hair bows bigger than their damn heads.

“Ooh, yes, go ask, please Dad!” Jo Jo says, her mouth open in deep concentration as she tries to clip the bow to her ponytail.

I set my coffee on the table and head down the hall, gently knocking on Riley’s closed door. We don’t sleep in the same bed every night, not yet. Both of us want to, and when Jo Jo sleeps somewhere for the night, Riley stays in my room. We’re taking our time for Jo Jo’s sake. Even though she claims to be fine with it, still, it’s a lot of change. We just want to make sure that even though we did things a little out of order, that on the points that matter, we don’t push.

“Come in,” Riley says quietly, and I push open the door to find her facing a floor length mirror dressed in a cheerleadinguniform, a blue ribbon hanging from her ponytail. She turns to face me, and with my boot, I kick the door shut. She saunters over, making my dick hurt when she plucks my hat from my head and sets it on hers.

“How do you like me in my uniform, cowboy?” she asks, stretching out the last word like a piece of gum between her teeth.

I steal her hand and press it to my groin. “You tell me, darlin’.”

I love the way her cheeks fill with pink, like she’s surprised to find out how hard she makes me. The last three months with Riley have been the best months of our lives. Jo Jo is so much happier, now that we're communicating. Not through Riley, either, although I love watching their relationship grow and evolve, too. Cheer still hasn’t been easy for Jo Jo, and after she went to the dance with Rawley Colt, apparently another cheerleader’s lifelong crush, more lines on the team were drawn.

I’ve been so proud bearing witness to how she’s handled it all, and I know a lot of that has to do with Riley’s influence.

“You shuttin’ the door is gonna garner some interest,” Riley teases, her scent wrapping me as I tug her arms up, placing them around my neck. There’s no music, but I hook my hands together on her ass and we start swaying together, slowly.

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