Page 50

“Is there more?”

“I honestly don’t know how I want to answer the question about whether I want to remain a secret or not. I mean, mostly I do, but then I think of how that will restrict the things I can go with you to do, and then I’m not so sure.”

It was time to talk about his biological family, and I’d had more time to consider how to approach the subject. “Your original family fucked your childhood. Are you going to let them dictate your adult relationships?” I let that sit a few seconds and added, “There’s no right or wrong answer. I’ll do my best to make things work no matter your decision, but I’d like you to know that I’ll also get my legal team involved to deal with your family if they pop up out of nowhere and you don’t want to have to deal with them. My guess is I can offer ten or twenty grand to get them to sign an NDA that’ll mean they have to pay me three times what I paid them if they spill the beans, and that’ll make them go away for good.”

I let him think that through for a handful of seconds and added, “It’s also possible you have siblings or cousins who want a relationship with you, but had no idea where you were or how to contact you.” I softened my voice. “Where did you grow up, Davy?” He’d told me the general area, but never the specifics.

“Clewiston, Florida, Master. Kind of in the middle of the Florida peninsula, so it’s an hour and a half from both the gulf and the Atlantic. Lots of farmland, so it’s full of farmers and rednecks. Not a big population. Small-town America, basically. I worked on cruise ships after I graduated high school. While I was between cruises, I went to Fort Lauderdale and Miami to try to find other gay men. I met Carlos, and he took me home with him. I thought I was his boyfriend the first couple of days, and then he started training me to be his slave. I mean, he made me call him Sir from the very beginning, but I just thought it was cool. I didn’t understand where he was going with it, but I thought I’d fallen in love with him. I’d kissed a boy and traded hand jobs, but…” he sighed. “Everything else was a first.”

I’d heard the part about Carlos, but he’d never talked about the town he grew up in before.

“Okay. So, do you think your original family is still in Clewiston?”

He shrugged. “I was allowed to read my file after I turned eighteen, and the notes say the DA was considering pressing criminal charges for abuse and neglect, but they left, and I guess the DA wasn’t interested in searching for them and dealing with extradition to have them brought back. My dad’s in prison for shooting a cop, but my mom’s sister hasn’t mentioned her online in years, so I don’t know where she is. I’ve thought about asking Ranger what it would take to find her, but I’m not sure I really want to know. It’s possible she isn’t even alive.”

“I can get Drake to look for your mom if you want. Just say the word and it’s done.” I kissed his nose. “And, if you decide you want to let the world know who I’m in love with, I’ll step up and deal with your family if you’d prefer not to, and if there are family members you want to talk to, I’ll act as whatever support you need for that, too.” I kissed his nose again. “It means we probably shouldn’t go public until I come back from the second-half of my tour, so I’ll be here to deal with whatever does or doesn’t happen. We can make a note in tomorrow’s contract that you’ll decide that later, as an addendum to the contract, if you want.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Master. It’s a huge weight off my chest knowing I don’t have to decide in the next couple of days.”

I wished I had family to worry about sometimes, but most of the time I focus on the here and now. The past is where it belongs for me, and it seemed to be for Davy. If his family popped up, we’d deal with it, and as long as they weren’t demanding money, I’d let Davy take the lead on how we dealt with it. If they wanted money, I’d hand the whole thing over to my lawyers.

Chapter 22

Davy

It’s possible we negotiated the new contract in less time than it took us to deal with the first, even though this one was nearly five times longer. We both knew the changes we wanted though, and there wasn’t much negotiation since we were both mostly on the same page.

I didn’t think he’d let me get rid of the safeword, but he immediately changed the wording when I told him I felt as if it gave me too much power. I’m still allowed to say it, and I’m encouraged to do so if I feel damage or injury is happening or could happen, but whether he stops or slows is entirely up to him — he’s no longer obligated to do so.

The thing is, I’ve never needed to say it with him. Not even once. He’s taken me right to the edge, where I considered it, but never far enough I had to say eitheryelloworred. And I wasn’t lying when I said it gave me too much power. I trust Master. He knows what I can and can’t take, and he’s always really careful about safety.

And now it was the morning after we initialed all fourteen pages, and I wanted to wait and deal with moving my stuff after Master left because I wanted to spend every second in his arms I could, but he insisted we do it now, before he left.

He said he wanted to oversee which things went into my two closets, and he wanted to decide where all my other things should go, and it made sense, of course, because Master almost always makes total sense, but I still wanted to do fun things during our final days together before he left.

And yes, I have two closets now, though one stays locked. Master had a clothes bar and some shelves put up in the garage, with walls around it and a door. All my work clothes go there, and my work boots. And socks. And nearly all my underwear.

The rest of my clothes are in a closet in Master’s bedroom, but it’s locked so I can’t get to it. When Master wants me clothed so we can go somewhere, or because we’re having guests I should be clothed for, he hands me what he wants me to put on. If we’re going somewhere, I have to take the clothes he hands me to the garage to get dressed. If we’re expecting company, I’m usually allowed to dress in the bedroom.

When Master isn’t home, I have to text him when I go into my closet if I need clothes, explaining what I’m doing and what I plan to wear. If he’s available, he’ll text back to either confirm I can wear that, or to tell me to wear something else. Or, possibly, to tell me I can’t do whatever I was planning. If he’s busy and can’t respond, I can proceed as planned, but I’m to be certain it’s something I’m allowed to do — like going to lunch with Matty. For something I’m not sure of, it’s best to ask permission a few days early. When he isn’t home, my closet will text him anytime I open it. When he’s home, it’s locked so I can’t get into it.

Master wanted to hire movers until I pointed out none of the furniture is mine. The only thing I’d be moving out would be my television, chrome book, clothes, toiletries, bedding, and towels. I figured I’d leave the cleaning supplies for the next person who rents it. The pots, pans, dishes, glasses, and silverware had been in the cabinets when I moved in.

And as much as I liked the rug I’d bought, I couldn’t imagine it in Master’s house, so I decided to leave it for the next renter, too.

So, five boxes of things plus a bunch of stuff on hangers, and the TV in a special box for it, all of which went into Master’s old pickup truck with plenty of room for more. One load, and we were done.

I stood in the middle of my living room and turned in a circle, saying goodbye in my head.

“Second thoughts, Davy?”

“No, Master. It’s the only place that’s been solely mine that was home.Myplace, where I could do whatever I wanted if I had the money for it, with no one to tell me what to do. It was important — more important than I realized, but this time in my life is over.”

His look told me he was waiting for more. And I looked to his feet a second before I met those brilliant blue eyes and told him the rest. “I thought I loved Carlos and Adam, but it turns out I was mistakingneedingsomeone with loving them. I understand the difference, now. Until today, I could’ve left your home at any time. I can support myself just fine. I don’t need you; I want you. It’s ahugedifference, Master.” I shrugged. “I can still leave. It won’t be as easy because I’ll have to find a place to live, but I can afford to.”

And Will had never asked for my bank information, never tried to take control of my finances. Carlos had used whatever influence he had through the cartels and closed my account with the bank, so it no longer existed.

He’d put a section about my personal funds into our new contract. I’m only allowed to buy gas for my car and bike, lunch at the RTMC’s restaurant, and the monthly fee for my Krav Maga classes. Anything else, I have to get his permission. He knows I’ll be paying insurance for my car and bike, but I’ll still need to check in with him when I pay them. He doesn’t have access to either my checking or savings account, but he gets to look at the statement every month to see what I’ve spent money on. I’m more than good with that. It’s like the perfect solution to make me a slave but let me keep my autonomy. I still have my own money. While I’m Master’s slave, I can’t spend it on anything without permission, but it’s there in case I need it.