8. Anders #3
“The server. Do women flirt with you a lot? I don’t really have much of a sense for it, but I guess I wouldn’t have assumed you were gay if you hadn’t of…” He trails off, like he doesn’t really know how to point out that I acted like a total caveman the first time we met.
“You don’t have a sense for what?” I ask, unsure what he means.
“Gaydar. I don’t.” His cheeks turn bright pink. “I don’t really have any. To be honest, the only gay person I know is…me. Until now, anyway.”
Sucking in a breath, I store away what he just told me to process later. This doesn’t feel like the time or place to have this conversation, but I say it anyway because I don’t want him to think I’m keeping things from him. “I’m bi. I’ve been in relationships with both men and women.”
Henry’s lips form a perfect O shape as he stares at me.
“I would have said I didn’t have a preference until I met you. Now male or female, none of that matters, because unless they’re you, I’m not interested.”
His chest heaves as he sucks in huge gasping breaths, staring at me like he has no idea what to say or do or feel. I’m pissed that I’ve overwhelmed him, but telling him I’m gay would have been a lie, and I don’t ever want to lie to him.
“Does it bother you that I’ve dated women?” I ask, hoping that his inexperience will also come with a lack of judgment.
“No,” he says quietly. “Does it bother you that I’ve never dated anyone?”
There’s a defiance in his eyes as he looks at me and waits for my judgment. Shaking my head, I keep my gaze fixed on his face. “No. I fucking love knowing that you’ll only ever be mine.”
“That’s not how it seemed the other night. When I told you I was a”—he lowers his voice to barely a whisper—“a virgin, you recoiled. You…” His voice sounds choked when he forces out the word, “Left.”
Jesus, I knew I’d messed up the other night, but clearly, I had no idea how much. “I didn’t leave—” I start, but he immediately speaks over me.
“You might have stayed in the same room, but you shut off, then the moment we got out of the shower, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
“I explained that. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not a child?—”
“I know that. I told you?—”
“I know what rejection looks like, Anders. You might have said the right thing, but I saw the look in your eyes. I felt you shut off from me. You left, and I get that. I just don’t understand why you’re here now.”
“I fucked up,” I confess. “I knew you were less experienced than me. But when you told me that no one had touched you, I saw all the things my…needs could do to you, and I panicked. I backed off, but I never left. I didn’t reject you.
I just took a step back so I could decide if I could give you what you need without allowing what I need to destroy you,” I growl, the words falling out of me in a rush.
Shaking his head, he denies my words, refusing to look at me.
“Henry.”
His body language shuts down. His shoulders curl in, like he’s protecting himself…from me.
“Boy, look at me,” I growl again.
His posture straightens, and his torso snaps upright so fast that I’m worried it might have hurt him.
“You. Are. Mine. I knew it the moment I saw you, and it’s even more true now.
You are perfect for me in every fucking way, and yes, it was a shock when you told me that no one had touched you.
But I wasn’t upset about it, I was fucking elated.
Every inch of you belongs to me, and knowing that I’ll be the only one to ever touch and lick and fuck you makes me so hard it’s insane. ”
“You said you’d ruin me, that I’d end up hating you,” he whispers defiantly.
I nod, sucking in a sharp breath. “I have control issues, Henry. I’ve known you less than a week and I’m fighting all of my urges when it comes to you.
I want to demand your compliance. I want to know where you are, who you’re with, what you’re doing, and what time you’ll be finished.
I want to know what you plan to wear, what you’ll eat, and how hard your pretty cock gets every time you think about me.
I want to feed you, wash you, care for you.
I want to be involved with every decision you make and every thought you have.
I want you to look to me for every little thing, and I want you to want that too. ”
This time he doesn’t look away or try to hide his reaction from me as he stares in shock, his pupils blown wide, his parted lips hanging open.
“I’m a lot, Henry. Too much, and in the past, with a guy I was seeing a long time ago, my needs suffocated him.
I hurt him in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for, and I don’t want to do that to you.
I don’t want what I feel for you to hurt you, and that’s why I ran, Kitten. It wasn’t about you; it was about me.”
“So, what changed?” he asks cautiously.
“Nothing,” I scoff. “Nothing changed, except I fucking missed you. Five days not seeing you or speaking to you was unbearable, and even though I probably should, I can’t stay away.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you want to be mine?” I ask him, then immediately regret it. If he says no, I’m not sure I’ll be able to accept that.
“I…you…”
Henry stumbles over his words, and it’s so cute I want to give him an out, but I can’t, so instead I watch him, my gaze scrutinizing his features as I wait for him to speak.
“I…”
His words trail off again, but I can’t answer this for him. If I do, then I’ll already be allowing my need for control to become toxic, and that’s not what either of us wants or needs.
“Henry, it’s not a trick question. Do you want to be mine?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, he pushes a strand of hair off his forehead with shaking fingers. “Yes. I want to be yours,” he says, half gasp, half moan.
“Good,” I exhale. “That’s so fucking good. But we’re going to take this slow. You call the shots.”
“Me?” he splutters.
“Yes, you. For now, at least, until we get to know each other better.”
“But you said…” HIs brow furrows.
“That I’m a control freak?” I chuckle.
He nods.
“I am. But I’m going to keep it in check.
All of this is new to you, and it’s easy to get caught up in things.
You’re mine, Henry. That won’t ever change, but while we get to know each other, I’m not going to try to be your Dom.
But there are a few things…rules…that I’m going to ask you to think about that are non-negotiables for me. Is that okay?”
The server arrives with our food, interrupting our quietly spoken conversation. Neither of us speaks while she places several appetizers on the table, taking her time to eye fuck me, while I do my best to ignore her without being blatantly rude.
“Thanks,” I say dismissively, spearing a stuffed mushroom on my fork and holding it up to Henry’s lips.
I hear but don’t see her huff of annoyance as she bounces away, her ponytail swishing behind her.
“Eat,” I say, not acknowledging the questioning look in my kitten’s eyes.
When he parts his lips and takes the food from my fork, I hold my breath, waiting excitedly for his reaction.
“Oh god,” he moans as the creamy cheese and rich garlic taste coats his tongue.
Once he’s swallowed, I feed him a bite of calamari and watch as his nose wrinkles. Chuckling, I move on to shrimp cocktail, then gooey mozzarella sticks. I don’t eat anything until he’s tried a bite of each dish and I’ve seen his reaction to it all.
“What’s your favorite?” I ask, stabbing a calamari ring with my fork.
“The stuffed mushrooms and the mozzarella sticks,” he admits, shyly.
Nodding, I push the two dishes toward him, then pull the calamari and shrimp toward me.
Once we’ve eaten most of the appetizers and the server has cleared the plates, Henry eyes me cautiously. “You mentioned rules.”
Smiling, I nod. “Not really rules, more things that are important to me.”
“What are they?”
“I’d like for you to text me in the morning when you wake up and again before you go to sleep. We’ll talk during the day, but knowing I’m the first and last person you speak to is important to me, especially when I’m at work.”
“You’re a smoke jumper, like Danny,” Henry says, his cheeks pinking a little like he’s embarrassed to know what I do for a job.
“Yeah. We work a four-on, four-off rotation, but when I’m on shift, we live on base and are on call twenty-four hours a day during that time.
When we get a call-out, we leave our cells at the base so they don’t get lost or broken.
While I’m at work, I might not be able to reply to you right away, but I’ll always reply the moment I can. ”
“I can…I can do that,” he says quietly. “What else?”
“No more bus rides. It’s too dangerous.”
“How else am I going to get to work?”
“I’ll drive you?—”
Shaking his head, he interrupts me. “No, that’s crazy, it’s a two-hour round-trip drive to Bozeman from here. The bus is perfectly safe.”
“I’ll buy you a car, then you can drive yourself.”
“What?” he shrieks, immediately hunching over when he realizes how loudly he’s spoken. “You are not buying me a car. We’ve known each other for a week, and I can’t drive.”
“I’ll teach you,” I say sternly.
“No, you won’t. I’m a nightmare. I get distracted and then panic. I can’t drive.” The more he talks about it, the louder and more frantic he becomes.
“Okay, no driving lessons. But I’m still serious about the bus. I’ll drive you to work and back on the days I’m not at work when I am, you can stay at my place and get a ride with Parker.”
“I can’t agree to that,” he says forcefully. “As soon as the Barnetts find someone permanent for the job, I won’t work there anymore. I’m a temp.”