Page 85 of The Last One to Let You Down

“I fuckin’ froze up!” Tom shouted. “Okay? What do you want me to say? I’m some fuckin’ scared little prude who got in way over his head? Fine! I am! I’m scared, and I don’t know if I can do this!”

Silence fell, heavy and thick, and Tom couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cypress’s face. He was desperately searching for any sign of anger or sympathy,somethingto give him a clue as to what Cypress was thinking. He had no idea what was going through Cypress’s mind, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

“We need a break,” Cypress said, at last, his flat expression still totally unreadable. “We need to take some time to cool off.”

Tom was instantly struck by a crushing wave of defeat, flopping down on his couch and holding his head in his hands. He’d heard this little song and dance before, only with different words. He was already certain this was the last time he was going to see Cypress.

“Yeah. Got it.”

“I’m gonna go before either of us says anything else we’re gonna regret.” Cypress began to walk out, pausing at the door. “If you do decide that you wanna talk about what happened, don’t hesitate to call or text me, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Tom said quietly, closing his eyes to fight back the treacherous sting of tears. He refused to let himself cry, not while Cypress was still there.

“Good night, Tom. Sleep sweetly.”

Tom didn’t look up again until he heard the door shut, confirming that Cypress had left. He groaned out loud, wiping at his eyes as he got up. He kicked off his shoes, and he miserably trudged to bed.

He didn’t even bother with getting undressed, instead, flopping face-first right into his pillows. He felt nauseated, and he wanted to scream. He didn’t understand how things had gone so wrong so quickly and had no idea how to fix it.

Mister Doodles jumped up on the bed to come over and investigate, sniffing urgently all around Tom’s face with a low whine.

He reached up to pet her, mumbling, “Daddy’s okay, girl. I’m just… I just fucked up, and I don’t know what to do.”

Her teeth lightly nipped at his ear, whining again.

“If you’re gotta eat me, start on the left side, please.”

It was a very good thing Tom had today off because he was righteously hungover when he woke up.

He crawled out of bed long enough to walk Mister Doodles and get her breakfast before stumbling right back to bed again. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to think, and he definitely didn’t want to remember last night.

Try as he might, he couldn’t go back to sleep. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he was awake now. He got up, showered quickly, and attempted to feel like a human being again. He made a pot of coffee and tried to find something to snack on to ease the swishy feeling in his stomach.

He didn’t have any new texts from Cypress and resisted the urge to message him.

They were taking a break from whatever the hell it was they were doing, and Tom figured it was for the best. He was so out of his depth with Cypress, and maybe it was better to let it all end.

Immediately, he knew he wasn’t satisfied with that decision. He’d never felt anything like he had when he was with Cypress—the pain, the thrill, the absoluteecstasy.

No one else would ever be able to give that to him.

But he didn’t know what to say to Cypress now, and he was still embarrassed. It was all so weird. It was freaky and filthy and fuck, Tom was getting hard thinking about it.

“What am I supposed to do?” Tom asked Mister Doodles. “Tell Cypress that oops, sorry, hearing people scream apparently freaks me the fuck out, and I’m still trying to accept how much I love being spanked?”

Mister Doodles tilted her head and wagged her tail.

Tom petted her, smiling sadly. “Yeah, I don’t know either. Guess it doesn’t matter. In my experience, when a guy says he wants to take a break, that’s pretty much the end.”

Mister Doodles yipped.

“Yeah, whatever you said.”

He spent the rest of the day catching up on laundry and dishes, watched a few episodes of television, and did everything he could not to think about Cypress.

Not his kisses or his laugh or his sexy smile, not his touch or the way he fucked or how he could make Tom feel like the most beautiful creature with only a few words…

Shit.