Warning: This story is explicit with graphic sex scenes, mature language, spanking, and BDSM-type elements. Slow burn. Plot-heavy. Please don't start reading if you're not into that.
(Spin-off of Married to My Master, Hide & Seek, and Cats In the Cr...
This wasn't the way I pictured this conversation happening. Her angry and yelling at me in a parking lot, her face covered in smudged makeup and dried tears, me basically having to lay down the law to stop her from running off to go see some stupid fuck named Zachary. This wasn't how I wanted this to go down at all. And I'm sure Theo felt the same.
I imagined a mature, earnest, vulnerable conversation, where we each took our time to express our thoughts and feelings and frustrations. Our many, many frustrations.
Maybe we'd take her to a nice restaurant first, get a bottle of good wine. Ease into the idea of Theo and I both being with her. I don't fucking know.
But we were at day 98.
98 days since the first time she'd slept over. Since she asked us to tone down the lingering stares and to stop with the sexual innuendos that plainly conveyed our obvious lust. Since she asked us to start pretending that we were just normal, platonic friends who had absolutely no sexual or romantic attraction to each her.
98 days of getting to know her, of her allowing us to take care of her, making her smile.
98 days of realizing my love life was not in any way going in the direction I ever would've imagined. And that I was actually ok with it.
She was irreplaceable. Theo and I meant everything to her, and they both meant everything to me.
98 days of wishing I could show her exactly how much she meant to me. In every way imaginable. Wishing I could finally show her what a man who isn't selfish acts like in bed...but instead having innocent, cuddly sleepovers that may as well have been elementary school girls' nights.
...98 days of beautiful hell.
I wasn't exactly sure what her game plan was here, but I decided I was going to give her until day 100 before Theo and I finally initiated the much-needed talk about the terms and conditions of our relationship.
...Or maybe I'd make it 99 days.
Because the Saturday night sleepovers were fucking killing us.
We'd finally realized who her father was, and after doing some research on her family history and Alessandro's connection to Melody, I genuinely had to wonder if Ana was deliberately torturing us. Maybe the apple hadn't fallen too far from the tree, and this was like a fucked up edging game, meant to drive us insane.
Penance for some of our past decisions.
In any case, her days of taking the lead on our relationship were severely numbered. A man could only take so much.
My fucking blue, angry balls could only take so much.
I was at my last stop before coming home from the shelter when Theo called me, uncharacteristically panicked. I immediately assumed something had happened to Taylor.
Had her boyfriend found her? Was she hurt?
Were we in danger?
I'd stopped at the Whole Foods a few minutes from our apartment to get food to make dinner tonight, and the reception was fucking terrible. So I asked him to text me, hurrying to get to the check out line as quickly as possible.
The text came immediately:
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