Sex with Andrew is so much better than the sex I have at work. It makes me wonder if I’ve been in the business too long.
I’ve never been with a sub who made me feel like that.
“Are you ready for bed? Or would you like to read to me?”
His eyes fly open. “Read to you? Can I really?”
Damn, if he doesn’t make me smile more than I have in years.
“Yes. Ready to get out?” The water is beginning to cool. In a few minutes, it won’t be comfortable for him anymore.
He grasps the sides of the tub. I stand up and lean down to kiss the top of his wet head.
“I’ll get you out.”
I tuck my hands underneath his armpits and lift him up. He’s still a little shaky from holding so still for me earlier. I grab a towel from a nearby rack, and wrap it around his shoulders, rubbing my hands up and down his arms.
“You get dry. I’ll grab your pajamas.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but I give him a firm look that makes him close it again.
Andrew has two huge bags to search through. They’re both meticulously organized. The contents of his suitcases make me smile. He brought bison jerky, my favorite. And one of his bags is halfway full of books. There are at least twenty of them. He probably could have packed everything into one suitcase if he didn’t need to bring an entire library with him.
I find his pajamas in the corner of the book suitcase. Underneath them is a stuffed bear. Its brown fur is worn through along its stomach like it’s been hugged too many times.
My heart aches. Andrew needs someone to take care of him, not just a fuck buddy he can call Daddy.
I hear quick footsteps behind me. Andrew runs around me, and crouches in front of his suitcase, snatching the bear from my hands.
“I packed him just in case things didn’t work out, okay? This is my first time, and I didn’t want to feel alone—”
I place my hand on his bare knee. “Andrew, it’s okay.”
He searches my eyes, his whole body tense with fear. Does he honestly think I’d judge him for packing a bear? In the pits, I used to lump up the food sacks our captors threw down after they’d been emptied. A few sacks tied together were big enough to pass for dolls. After the omegas gave birth and our captors took their babies away, I’d give them one of my makeshift dolls to hold as they cried for their children.
Andrew’s bear isn’t the same thing, but in this life, we have to take comfort where we can find it.
“Do you sleep with him?” I ask.
Andrew shakes his head for a moment, then bunches his shoulders together and slowly nods.
I hand him his pajamas. “Get dressed and pick out a book. We can read in bed for a while. Please bring the bear. When we sleep together, I want you to be comfortable.”
His lip trembles and a thick tear slides down his cheek.
I cup his jaw with my hand and brush his tear away. “Do you not want to sleep with him while we’re together?”
“I just… want you to be comfortable too. I want you to like being with me.” He lowers his eyes to the ground. “I mean, having sex with me. I know we’re not together or anything.”
I lean over and kiss his forehead. “How could I not like being with you? If anything, this helps me get to know you better, and I really like the boy I’m getting to know.”
We crouch there for a while, staring into each other’s eyes. It’s too soon to tell him how much sharing this moment with him means to me. The connection between us is so strong I worry about taking things too fast. I don’t want Andrew to feel more vulnerable than he already does. I need him to know he’s safe with me.
Eventually, I stand and let him put on his pajamas. He goes through the motions quickly, grabbing a book without even looking at the cover. The book’s binding is broken, and its pages are bent on the edges. The title is Frankenstein. I’m a little surprised.
“Like the movie about the monster?” I ask.
Andrew stares down at the book with a wistful smile. “Frankenstein is actually a sophisticated and emotionally complex story about loneliness. Mary Shelley really understood what it feels like to be socially isolated.”
Hearing these words from him feels a little like discovering his teddy bear. It’s a glimpse into his life that he shouldn’t allow me to see yet. We don’t know each other very well. With Andrew, a bond ache doesn’t seem to make him insatiable for sex. At least not with me. He’s desperate for intimacy—for an emotional connection.
I get into the huge bed and hold out my arms to him. He climbs in next to me with his book and bear in tow.
“Would you like to sit in my lap?” I’m not sure why I ask that. It just seems like something Andrew might find comforting. Something that fits this moment.
He nods and shifts over. I pull him close to me, lifting the covers over both of us. He curls into me and rests his head on my shoulder.
“My omega dad was a literary history professor,” Andrew says. “He was the one who taught me to read. When I was little, we used to sit like this in my bed, and he’d listen while I sounded out the words. He was so patient.”
I catch the “was.” I don’t know what happened to Andrew’s father, and I’m not sure if I should ask.
“He died when I was eight.”
I guess I won’t need to ask. I wrap my arms around him. “Read to me, baby boy.”
Andrew hugs his bear close and opens up the book.
“You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.”
9
Andrew
Timber rubs salve on my ass before we go to sleep, then holds me in his arms all night. In the morning I ask him if we can order room service for breakfast because I don’t want to get out of bed yet. I just want to stay here with Timber and my bear, Frankie, all day.
But Timber asks me to put on my clothes, and we go down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. I do my best to hide my disappointment. I’m sure it would be boring for him to listen to me read again. And I do want him to enjoy himself.
After breakfast, we walk along Main Street, where there are lots of small local shops that sell everything from beach towels to tarot cards. Timber opens the door to a used bookshop.
“What do you think? Want to go in?” he asks.
What kind of question is that? Of course I do. I slip inside.
“It’s good to see you smile,” he says.
Have I not been smiling enough? Is that what he wants from me?
“I’m sorry—”
He glares at me, and I know immediately that I’ve said something I shouldn’t.
“I’ll get to see your smiles when I deserve them. Now, go find a book for yourself. I’d like to buy you something.”
Maybe I should remind him that I’m paying him to be here—that we’re only here to get to know each other so the sex we have later at my home won’t be as awkward. But I want Timber to buy me something. It could be a twenty-five-cent paperback that’s falling apart, and I’d still treasure it forever.
The bookshop has mostly mysteries with a very small section for romance and classics. None of them are rare, but some of them are very pretty. There’s a lovely Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland with gold edges, and a copy of Wuthering Heights with a beautiful illustration of the English Moors on the cover. As I deliberate between the two of them, Timber mills about the store, until he finds a few Westerns mixed in with the mysteries. He picks out a few by Zane Grey and plants himself in an armchair in the corner, completely content to let me browse for a while.