Chapter 24 #2
“Do you need me to help you calm down, Tommy?” He hums the words against my shoulder, speaks them as he traces his lips across my neck, and ends the question with a nip on my ear. I jolt under him, all my nerve endings firing at once.
With a breathy laugh, I try to regain my composure and puncture his. “This is like, super-duper gay, Young-gi. You want to fuck me? Go right ahead, Daddy. I’ll be so good for you.”
And yeah, maybe I’m trivializing it. Maybe I’m taking the very real, emotional heavy-hitting moments we’ve had and I’m trying to shrink them down into sex, into a transaction, into role play. Maybe old Tommy is still alive and well after all; he probably always will be.
But, no matter what Tommy I am, I’m still just as transparent to Young-gi as I’ve always been. Because he thinks about that for a second, like he’s having a whole conversation with my body language, with the things I’ve said–like he’s deciphering me bit by bit.
“No. I’m not going to touch your dick today, Tommy,” he finally murmurs.
Before I can wilt in disappointment, he chuckles, keeps talking, and I can hear the cruel smile in his voice.
“Even though you’re panting for more spankings and an orgasm, that’s not what I’m doing right now.
Even though your cock is full and hard and probably aching for me, dripping onto my floor, I’m not going to be distracted.
Right now, I’m going to take care of your bruises.
Then, we’re going to eat. So you can push me all you want, and I’ll spank you if you need it, but I don’t plan on making this sexual. Am I making myself clear?”
Part of me is disappointed–one guess as to which part of me is the most upset–but I think…
I think that maybe he’s passing a test I didn’t even know I was giving him.
Because a painful tension in my spine suddenly relaxes and I realize my hands were in white-knuckled fists beside his.
I relax them, and he slides his fingers in between mine, almost like we’re holding hands.
And I let him. “Yeah, crystal clear.”
“Good boy,” he murmurs. He kisses the back of my neck and I shiver all over. My lips tingle and I’m vividly reminded of kissing him at the club. It was messy and over-the-top, because I was high as fuck, but I wish he’d kiss me again.
Instead, he pulls back and lets me get back up on my elbows instead of flat on my belly. With insistent touches, he lifts the back of my shirt. “You still have some bruises here. I’m going to take care of them, too.”
I nod, trying to collect myself. The sudden shift from hot and sexy to cool and professional–the way he just moves on to some other part of me–throws me off center.
And I find myself moving on, too. Following his lead.
Letting go of my horny, bratty temper and feeling a calmer headspace take over, because this isn’t about cumming, it’s about… my own good.
I don’t have to react one way or the other.
I’m just letting him care for me. New Tommy is here for this.
Old Tommy isn’t so sure, but is allowing it.
I’m not sure which one I am anymore, or if my metaphors are even still making sense.
It doesn’t matter, my brain is mush right now anyway, massaged into blissed-out sludge under Young-gi’s fingers.
He takes his time, and I toss my shirt away to give him more space. With my back as his canvas, he paints up and down my spine, tracing those old bruises that are surely almost gone by now. For several minutes, all I do is breathe and let someone take care of me.
I feel baptized. If I look in the mirror again, will I be even less recognizable? Will I look as if he’s chipped off an ugly, old, sun-hardened outer layer of me, and revealed shiny new skin?
He pulls my shorts up, startling me because I didn’t even realize he was finished. He carefully avoids my dick with the waistband, and sits me down on my still-sore ass so we can eat dinner.
It takes a few minutes and a lot of calories for my brain to finally come back online. “You know, Young-gi, I’m starting to think you might be really, actually super gay.”
He’s not phased. “You’re the only person I’m interested in, Tommy. I’m whatever that makes me.”
Wait…interested in? Like…for real?
“You’re not serious.”
“I can spank you some more, if you want me to prove it.” His offer is casual, almost offhand, but the spark in his eyes lets me know that he’s fucking serious. Serious and maybe kind of into the fact that I like getting spanked.
“Hm,” I hum, unbelieving. But I don’t challenge him. I don’t think my heart can handle any more wondering tonight.
Not hope, obviously, but wondering. Wondering how much I can really believe him.
****************
Tommy
When I shift in my chair–for the hundredth time–at the fancy restaurant Kira wanted to meet at, I’m paranoid that I look like a boy who just got spanked the day before, which is exactly what I am, but I don’t want to look like it.
Kira sits opposite me, our hands linked on the table, a bottle of wine shared between us. My ring is back on my finger, and so is hers. To the world, we’re a couple in love. But if people could hear us talking, whispering really, they’d know better.
“And then she–and I–but she–” Kira’s cheeks turn pink and she puts her fingers to her lips like she’s remembering. “She kissed me.”
I search her expression, trying to discern how she really feels about that. “That’s a big deal.”
“I know!” she exclaims quietly, her hand tightening on mine. “But I-I mean–I told her she could, she did ask first. And I’ve never, I’ve never been kissed like that before…” She trails off breathily.
“Yeah, girls are sweet kissers,” I agree. She blinks at me in shock and I shrug. “I’ve been with women. But back to you and Janessa; what happens now?”
Kira bites her lip nervously, and her indecision is all over her face.
“Lexi says I should give it a shot, although she was skeptical. They still need to make amends. But I-I mean, you and I are kind of engaged right now so I can’t date her publicly, and I don’t want to hide it or make her feel like I’m, like, afraid or anything.
I-I always knew my feelings for her were a little more than friendly, but I’ve always liked boys too so I guess I just never paid too much attention to it. ”
“That happens a lot,” I tell her. “It’s easier to be straight. So, if you’re bi, you might pay more attention to guys because that’s what you’re expected to do.”
“Are you bi?” She leans over the table.
“No, sorry, I don’t have much advice for you. I’m pretty much gay. Those times with women didn’t really work out, if you get what I mean.” I gesture vaguely down to my lap.
She blushes again, and I laugh. Her admonishing, scandalized look is tempered with fondness and distracted anxiety.
“I guess I should…talk to her about it? She told me there was no pressure, she said…she said she just wanted to tell me the truth, and that she’s always wanted to kiss me at least once. Is–Isn’t that romantic?”
She’s got it bad. I smile indulgently. “Soooo romantic.”
“That’s what Lexi said too!” Kira almost swoons, leaning back against her chair with a sigh. “I just couldn’t believe it. I think I’m in shock. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take more time to think about it then,” I advise, stuffing another bite of weird French food into my mouth. It’s buttery and savory and rich; I like it. The appetizer was disgusting, but I guess the French are fifty/fifty on good food so far. More study will be necessary for a tie-breaker.
I shrug. “If she loves you, she’ll wait until you’re sure.”
“Do you really think she loves me?”
“I know she’s almost creepily into you, if that helps. Hey!” I laughingly protest when she gently smacks my hand, scandalized.
“Tommy, that’s rude!”
“She’s got jealousy issues, and you can’t deny that, Kira.”
“Well, yes, but–”
“And she keeps secrets close to her fucking chest, that’s for sure. She’s a puzzle box, probably high maintenance, difficult, and over-emotional. Slightly immature, spoiled, and concerned with her image.”
Kira deflates with every word. And by the time I’m done, she looks heartbroken.
“But,” I say meaningfully, tugging her hand to make sure she’s listening.
“I do think she actually loves you. And I think her being honest with you is a big step in the right direction. Everyone grows up and gets over themselves and their issues eventually, and it looks like she’s changing into someone better for you. ”
And that puts the stars right back into her eyes.
“That being said, if she ever hurts you, tell her I’ll beat the shit out of her,” I joke, smirking to let her know I’m not serious.
Well, not totally serious, but…kinda serious.
She laughs anyway, an ecstatic, excited giggle, and launches into a long, long, long speech about every moment she’s ever spent with Janessa and every thought she’s ever had about her and every conversation they’ve ever had and–
And holy fuck, I think Kira is creepily into Janessa, too. They’re perfect for each other.
Not that I’m one to talk. I shift my weight, the soreness reminding me of Young-gi. The ever-present ache keeps part of my attention on him constantly, like he’s haunting me. Without even being here, he dominates my thoughts. I wonder where he is, I wonder what he’s doing, who he’s with.
He said he had business, bratva business, and that his presence at dinner wouldn’t be necessary for our cover story. I’m not one to beg, so I let him do what he wanted and got in the limo to dinner without him. But I wish he was here.