Page 77 of Burden of Proof

Flopping onto my bed, I covered my eyes with my forearm, trying my very best to not think about how small my apartment was or how much I missed sharing my space with Silas. Was I so desperate all the time for human contact that I couldn’teven manage a handful of hours alone in my apartment? Was there something wrong with me? The way my body craved connection…

No.

Nope.

The patron saint of pity parties was not going to fall down that rabbit hole again. Instead, I forced myself out of bed and into the shower where I very stoically ignored my cock. I freshened up in all the important ways, dug out some clean clothes, and got dressed. I did stop to admire myself in the mirror, doing my best to see myself the way Hunter did.

Sliding my hands over my hips and then my stomach, I took in the flat planes of my muscles and the silver balls in my nipple piercings. Higher, I dragged my hand up to my throat and tilted my head back, imagining it was Hunter’s fingers curling around my neck instead of my own. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine my hand wrapped around his throat, but I came up short.

It hadn’t been so terribly long ago that I had been very confident in my role as a dominant, and what had started as a little bit of curious exploration had, in fact, turned my entire life on its head. It wasn’t like being with Hunter made me less dominant, but it did give me space to be more submissive, and I very much enjoyed the balance of that. Putting him down onto his knees and calling him Daddy made me painfully hard, but knowing he was at work and I wouldn’t see him for days was enough incentive to change my train of thought to something else entirely.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and sent him a text.

I don’t want you to come until we’re together again.

Three dots appeared on the screen, disappeared, and reappeared.

Hunter

Are you asking?

Heat burned low in my belly as I typed out my reply.

I’m telling.

Then I’m telling you the same.

Fine.

Fine??

Did you want to try again?

Jesus Christ, this man was going to be the death of me.

Yes, Daddy.

I didn’t need to be in the same room as him to picture the pleasure washing over his face. Hunter fuckinglovedwhen I called him Daddy. It was an honorific I never expected to use with another person, but there were times with him when it felt like the only appropriate thing to call him. I liked that he never asked for it, that he was never disappointed when I did or didn’t use it. It meant so much that he accepted all the jagged parts of me, finding ways to make them fit into his life without a single complaint.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I tore myself away from the mirror and texted someone else. They were quick to respond, and five minutes later I had an address keyed into my GPS and I was on my way downtown.

I met Marshall Covington at a small coffee shop in the lobby level of his office. He didn’t let me pay for my iced latte, because why would he, and he didn’t ask if I wanted to sit or if I wanted to walk. Marshall found a small table on the sidewalk and waited for me to join him. He was like his brother in that way, a quiet kind of unassuming dominance that overtook them both without feeling forced or unwelcome.

“Is everything all right, Lincoln?”

The question was absurd, all things considered, and I answered Marshall with a weak shrug.

“Has Hunter done something to hurt you?”

A laugh bubbled up out of me, and I chased it back down with a swig of iced coffee, shaking my head until my throat was clear enough for words.

“No, he hasn’t,” I said, then added. “He won’t.”

That answer seemed to be the right one, and Marshall looked pleased to hear it, leaning back in his seat and crossing one ankle over the top of his other knee.

“Did you need to spend more time with Silas?” he asked next, and that one felt much more like a loaded question because no, I was not adjusting well to their relationship and how it affectedmyrelationship.

“I don’t think I would ever say no that,” I mumbled. “But I respect that he wants to spend time with you, so I won’t ask about it.”