The Bad Boy BxB

Apologies (6)

"Hey," I said into the phone, hesitant, nervous about the subject of this call.

"Hey," a gruff voice answered back. "What do you want?" The question wasn't intended to be rude, but innocent. Though, my answer changed the tone.

"Are you alone?"

"Oh, god, not this again," the voice complained. 

"Caleb," I cried out in distress to interrupt his cursing and complaining, "last time was a mistake; I won't do it again. It'll be different, this time."

"It had better be," he grumbled before answering my question (after a little more probing). 

"Hi," I greeted awkwardly when Caleb opened the door for me moments after knocking. I knew he was cursing under his breath, but I didn't say anything.

"I don't want you here," he told me, more distress in his voice than anger.

"Please let me in, Caleb. I promise to be kind, today. Nothing like before. Never again."

Caleb looked me up and down, I figured deciding whether or not I was telling the truth, and decided it was safe enough to open the door for me. "You can't stay as long as last time. My sister will be home, soon." 

"That's okay. I wasn't planning on staying for too long. You just have to tell me when."

"Lie down," I insisted impatiently and yet sympathetically. He was sitting on his bed but not lying down, not giving me his arms to restrain; he wasn't moving. I knew why. There was no going back once he started. He couldn't back down. He would lose all control of himself with the restraints, and it was up to the battle of decency versus lust in my own head controlling his fate. Neither of us could trust decency to win. "Caleb, why don't you just lie down? Look, I don't even have the cuffs out of my bag, yet. You just have to lie down. I don't have to start."

After a brief pause for him to debate, he nodded his head and slowly leaned back until he was flat on his bed. "You can get out the cuffs, but not the rope," he informed me hesitantly. I knew what he meant. He didn't mind if I started, as long as I didn't tie up his feet (I had been tying them with rope). 

"Alright, if you're ready," I nodded, doing just as told and restraining only his wrists.

"You wore a tank top, last time," I frowned, pulling on the short sleeved shirt he had on, today. 

"Yeah, so?" He asked in an annoyed tone. He didn't like my implication.

"Well, it's just that your armpits are such a great spot," I teased, "and I was going to get help from this little guy," I said, taking a long, stiff, green feather out of my bag and displaying it to him, "to make it a little easier for you. I don't want to give up on your armpit tickles, so I've got to use my hands."

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?" He snapped.

"I didn't expect you to. I'm just telling you the facts."

"I-I, um..." I wondered what he was thinking, in that moment. There was a good pause of a few seconds between that stutter and his reply. I wanted to know what was going on inside his beautiful head. "I think you can probably pull it up high enough."

"Yeah?" I asked, hiding the shock I felt at his compliance. I would have thought, at least if he didn't fight, to say not to go near his armpits. But, of course, I wasn't going to argue! He had given me permission to try! Not that I needed it, but I was beginning to get a sense of his boundaries and today was supposed to make up for last time, so I couldn't do what he said absolutely not to do. "Well, I'll just have to try that out, then.