Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
EMIL
This was…unexpected.
When I came into the kitchen to find Anders pounding his bread dough, I hadn’t expected it to end with me getting a blowjob from him in my office.
I recognized that it had less to do with me as a person and more to do with Anders.
I didn’t think it was sexual, and that was the part that confused the hell out of me.
The effort it took to give him space, to let him perform, and to keep my hands away was a level of self-control I wasn’t aware I had in me.
Every nerve ending in my body had screamed to take over, but I knew that was exactly the wrong thing he needed from me.
He didn’t need me to take over. He needed me to let him perform.
Now I had this giant of a Viking sitting between my knees, his head resting on my thigh, my fingers tangled in his hair, and I couldn’t conceive of a place I’d rather be than right here in this moment.
Even if I wasn’t exactly sure what the moment was, I knew Anders needed me.
Right now. Like this. And I knew I wanted to give it to him.
That would have to be enough introspection for now. I lay my head back against the chair and let the relaxation Anders was projecting in waves wash over me.
“Thank you.”
Anders didn’t answer, but a soft sigh escaped him and a small smile played across his lips. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, but I knew I wasn’t moving until Anders was ready. He chose me for this moment, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I was going to do to ruin it for him.
We stayed together like this for at least thirty minutes. When Anders finally began to stir and move again, I felt the loss to my core. I wanted him to stay where he was, and I didn’t know how or why it affected me as much as it had.
Shit. Whatever was going on, I needed to get a handle on it.
I needed to make sure I wasn’t putting him in a worse position than before he came out here.
The notion of John accepting service from Anders without twisting it into something ugly was impossible.
John would take this and crush it. I suspected it was how he’d kept Anders dancing on a string.
The odds of him giving Anders the kind of attention I suspected he needed were somewhere between zero and not one fucking chance.
“I’m going to go recheck my bread,” Anders said as he lifted his head from my lap. His lips were swollen and rosy, but his eyes were clear. The tension he’d been carrying in the kitchen was gone, as were the frown lines around his mouth. He was more in control. Steadier.
I nodded. There wasn’t anything else to say between us right now.
He carefully, almost reverently, tucked me back inside my pants. He redid the zipper, clasp, and belt in reverse order. His fingers were nimble and sure. There wasn’t hesitation in his touch. In fact, it felt like he was in his element.
“Your shirt?”
“Just leave it.” Anders nodded again and slipped silently out of the room. I missed him immediately.
If I was clocking this correctly, I knew of exactly one friend who could help me navigate this brand of unknown and who’d keep his damn mouth shut about it. I grabbed my phone from the table next to the chair and scrolled through my contacts.
You on the island this evening?
Can I buy you a drink tonight? I need to talk to you about something.
Calvin
I promised Micah I’d take him to his book club tonight, but they have a wine bar attached to the store. Want to meet me there? Seven.
Everything all right?
I’ve got a situation, and I need to get it right.
You get some guy pregnant?
Ha! Not yet, and I haven’t tried lately.
Then I guess I’ll find out later.
Yeah. Thanks. I’ll see you tonight.
I wished I could’ve brought Anders with me tonight.
He’d like the clean lines of the bookstore with its cozy seating spots and hidden alcoves to relax beyond prying eyes. I made a mental note to mention it to him, and, well, bring him back myself. Being away from him, especially after what happened this afternoon, left me uneasy.
For the first time since Anders had come to stay with me, I’d left him alone at the cottage.
Until this afternoon, I’d ignored every obligation, every reason, every pull to leave the island, just to be with him there.
Maybe I hadn’t even named him to myself as the reason I stayed, but this afternoon had cemented it.
When I told him I wouldn’t be joining him for dinner tonight, Anders said nothing. That alone made me worry. There was no question, no pushback, no expression at all. Just quiet understanding. And that unsettled me more than if he’d argued.
I wanted him to claim my time. My attention. Me.
I’d left the house a little too early, which gave me about fifteen minutes to sit and observe the bookstore before Calvin arrived.
For a weekday night, it was busy. The bookstore side had chairs clustered together where the book club would meet, while the other side of the building held low tables and a bar area.
They didn’t serve a full menu, but there were enough snacks to piece together a meal if you wanted.
The drink selection was solid, heavy on local Pacific Northwest options.
I nursed my drink, picked at my charcuterie board, and waited for Calvin, fighting the urge to text Anders. I wanted to tell him where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. More than that, I wanted Anders to feel compelled to claim me too.
“Am I late, or are you early?” Calvin asked as he joined my table. He’d already removed his coat and draped it over an empty chair. He flagged down a server to order a drink, sparkling cider, before giving me his full attention.
“Cider?”
“Yeah, Micah’s not fond of drinking, and I’m very fond of Micah,” he answered with a quick smile and a careless shrug.
Fond was an underwhelming description of how Calvin felt about Micah.
Two seconds in their company and anyone knew they were over the moon for each other.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“No niceties? No small talk?”
“Pass. And you’re stalling.” Calvin glanced into the bookstore area, and a smile transformed his face. I looked in the same direction, and Micah’s bright smile and big wave distracted both of us. In the months since I’d met him, he’d thoroughly come out of his shell.
“I’ve met someone, but I’m not sure what’s going on with him. And you’re the only Daddy I know well enough to talk to about them.”
“Pardon?” Calvin looked closed off entirely.
“What? Are you going to pretend you’re not Micah’s Daddy? He forgets to call you Cal all the time.”
Calvin’s eyebrows shot up and he sputtered a tiny bit. I scrubbed a hand over my face so he wouldn’t see my smirk. There wasn’t much that struck Calvin Rutledge speechless, so I felt inordinately proud.
“Hold on.” Cal left the table and stalked in Micah’s direction.
From a distance, I couldn’t hear the subject of their conversation, but I knew precisely what it was.
Micah glanced over to me a few times with hesitation written all over his face.
Finally, he gave me one last look, but this time there was a small smile.
Cal gave him a tender kiss before heading back to my table.
“Micah said it was all right to talk with you about it,” he said upon his return. “Unless you have an issue with it, and then he’d prefer I decline.”
“Yeah, fair. I don’t have an issue with it, but I’m currently confused by it.” Cal helped himself to my food while I gathered my thoughts. “I think I might’ve become involved with someone.”
Cal looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and maybe for good reason. It may have been accurate, but it was still a terrible explanation.
“When will you know?”
“I don’t know that either.”
Cal signaled for another drink before he continued, “Start at the beginning.”
“It’s John McIntyre’s ex.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Sadly, no. I remember how he treated Micah.”
“You sure you want to get involved with anyone whose taste allowed them to date that fucking asshole?”
“Ha! If you met Anders, you’d know instantly they are nothing alike.” I went over Anders’s involvement in the mess of a merger, then got to this afternoon’s encounter. I didn’t give details, but Cal got the gist. He listened without interruption and kept on thinking after I’d finished.
After an eternity, give or take five minutes, Cal finally put me out of my misery.
“You know the love language thing?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”
“This isn’t that.”
“Wow. Helpful. Thanks for your insight,” I said dryly. “Any other slightly more helpful words of wisdom?”
“Yeah, actually,” Cal answered. He waited to speak until after the server dropped off another cider and left. “He’s definitely sounds like a service sub, and maybe a boy too.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A service sub needs to serve to feel like himself. It’s more than just a preference. It’s who they are, not what they like to do.”
His explanation hit hard. That was Anders to the letter, and today had been a perfect example.
“And the boy part?”
“The part of him that needs you to take care of him when he’s not being useful or earning your approval. If he is a boy, he’ll need to know he doesn’t need to earn a place in a person’s life.” He paused for the words to sink in. “But if you can’t take care of him the way he needs, you should walk.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll turn himself inside out trying to please you, and when it doesn’t work, or he doesn’t get the payoff, he won’t walk away, he’ll try harder.
Over and over until he has nothing left to give.
I do know you well enough to know you wouldn’t do it on purpose, but intent doesn’t fix shitty impact. ”
“How would that look in practice?”