Page 120 of Bad For A Weekend

One day I know I’ll receive a letter telling me he’s a free man, but until then, I keep the Story family out of my thoughts as much as possible. From the articles written, people think my mom tried to kill me, but they’re wrong. I never had a mom. I have a dad and a Brandy and a Ziggy. They’re my family. Though reading through the letters, I wonder if Owen will soon join that list.

It isn’t until I’m nearing the end of the pages that I come across one that has me blushing.

Baylor,

I was just thinking about our second night in Tulum. I had my mouth on you and made you squirt. Remember that? God, that was the hottest night of my life. It’s when I realized we were not only mentally and emotionally compatible but sexually too. You liked the pain and the kink as much as I liked giving it to you.

I spend a lot of time thinking about how far I could take you and what your limits are. I wonder how much you’d submit to me. Would you call me Daddy? Would you let me tie you up and bring you to the edge over and over again until you can’t take anymore?

Those thoughts are always followed by me wondering who else has touched you. Has another man taken my place between your legs? I wouldn’t be mad if he had. It’s my own damn fault. I just hope he doesn’t get too comfortable because I am coming back for you.

As for me, there’s been no one else, and there will be no one else. Just me and my fist until I’m back where I belong.

You own me,

Owen

My sex clenches, and my panties are soaked. He wants me to call him Daddy? Why does that turn me on? And God, yes, I want him to push me to my limits. There’s no one else I could trust with that kind of power.

I read through pages and pages of letters. Most just tell me about what he did that day, the things that reminded him of me, and his future plans. I read all about how he worked for Hudson, socking away all the money he could because at least part of him didn’t want to come back to me with nothing to his name.

I didn’t make it clear enough to him that money is nice, but even if both of us were flat broke, I’d be okay as long as I had him. But I understand the kind of man he is. And though he could never make the money I have access to, I get why he thought he needed more than he had.

Then I reach the very last one, dated yesterday. The day I interviewed him.

Baylor,

If I was waiting for a sign, I got it today. I was irritated when the principal told me about an interview with the college paper about the district’s security measures. Little did I know it would be you who showed up.

God, you looked so good, all done up and professional. It took everything in me not to toss you on my desk and fuck you until you agreed to take me back. But before we could even talk about us, you were running away, and I didn’t know why.

Maybe you don’t want me, or maybe you were scared. Either way, I decided it’s time to find out what could be. If you send me away, I’ll learn to live with half my soul walking the earth without me. But I hope I won’t have to. I’m not a praying man; I’m not even sure there’s a God. How could there be after everything I’ve seen? Yet I find myself begging God, the universe, anyone who will listen to bring you back to me.

You own me,

Owen

I hug the letters to my chest, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. This whole time he was with me, and I just didn’t know it. Despite the exhaustion of an emotional day, energy surges through me, and I know there’s only one thing to do. It’s late, but I don’t care.

I have to see him.

Owen

Ilie on my back, one hand under my head, the other flat on my bare chest, and stare at the ceiling. I’ve been here for hours now, sleep evading me. Baylor went on her date while I sat in the parking lot, stewing. They weren’t gone long, two hours max, and then he dropped her off.

I clenched my jaw so tight that I nearly cracked a molar when he walked her to the door and hugged her. Thank Christ, it was only a hug. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he went in for a kiss, and things couldn’t have gone well if she didn’t invite him up. I get a lot of satisfaction from that.

I sit up when I hear a knock at my door. Not bothering to put clothes on, I walk to the door in my boxers and fling it open, expecting to find a drunk Hudson. He sometimes shows up here if he strikes out with the ladies, looking to eat my leftover pizza and play video games.

But it’s not Hudson. It’s Baylor.

“I’m so mad at you,” she says, barging in and shoving the stack of letters I gave her into my chest.

“What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“Don’t even start with me.” Her eyes narrow. “You can’t just give these to me and expect me not to show up.”

She looks fucking adorable in white fuzzy sleep pants with cats printed on them, but shifting my gaze higher, she looks adorably fuckable in a tight white tank that ends right below her tits, showing off her tight abs. Her white robe hangs open like she couldn’t even be bothered to change before rushing over here.

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