Maybe I could convince Tony to become my Sugar Daddy. Sugar Handler? That didn’t roll off the tongue as easily.
I was going to need one anyway if my plan remained to have my own podcast.
I didn’t think I’d have too much of a problem with being his spoiled pup, so long as the power didn’t get to his head too much.
Being spoiled sounded amazing, actually.
Tears sprang to my eyes.
Fuck.
I really needed to get my shit together. A nap would help.
Ohhh. A nap on top of a very naked handler.
“Come on,” I called out—kind of whined, to be honest. “It’s nap time.”
I knew he was storing all the food he’d brought in the fridge, which was the sensible thing to do, all things considered, but I couldn’t say I saw the appeal in sensible right this minute.
I heard the rustling of the plastic bags before the fridge snapped close.
“Since when do you care about nap times?” Tony asked with a quirked eyebrow while leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen.
I scoffed. “Pups have naps, too, you know.”
Maybe if I played it cool, he wouldn’t notice I’d been on the verge of tears. Solid plan.
Of course, I wouldn’t be so lucky.
Tony crooked a finger, beckoning me. He aced the broody, silent type look when he put himself into it.
Sadly, I was unironically weak to it, so there went my knees.
“What’s going on, pup?”
I parted my lips, ready to say something or deny whatever it was he might be implying.
No sound came out for the first three, four, five seconds. I was timing it out of embarrassment.
“I missed you.”
And I was exhausted, but I figured I didn’t have to give him absolutely all my truths in one go.
“Good.” Tony cupped the back of my head before leaning down to kiss me. A gasp fell out of my lips, my body feeling light in ways it hadn’t all week. “Let’s get you that nap, pup.”
I vibrated in his hold. “Don’t let me spend finals week on my own again.”
“Is that an order?” Tony teased.
I shook my head. I wasn’t sure about what I tried to convey with the move, or if I succeeded, so I licked my lips and tried again. “It’s a need.”
Tony stood straighter. I didn’t quite register why at first. The words had just come out.
It made sense he’d make a big deal out of it. The first few weeks since I’d ended up in his playroom, he’d been on my ass to tell him all about the shit I needed, and wanted, and… whatever.
I was too tired for a trip down memory lane.
“You’ve got it, pup.”