Page 14 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

FOURTEEN

SAVAGE

Tobi: Can you explain the whole telling me what to do thing?

Tobi: If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.

Tobi: Why can’t I delete text messages? Ugh.

Idon’t see his texts until after practice. I hate he had to wait, but I can’t help but grin at how cute he is. I love that he let the idea roll around in his brain for the last few weeks and is now coming back to it. Tobi has been all about taking it slow, and I’m happy to let him set the pace.

Savage: I do have classes which I usually turn my phone off for. I wasn’t ignoring you, baby girl.

While I’m grabbing dinner, my phone goes off a couple more times before I can even sit down.

Tobi: I know you’re busy!

Tobi: that all came out so wrong.

Tobi: I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.

Tobi: You don’t have to explain.

I shake my head, still smiling. Why does he give me this little warm spot of joy?

Savage: You are allowed to ask questions.

But the text doesn’t feel like enough.

Savage: You are allowed to take up space and exist. Don’t cut yourself off or hold yourself back to appease other people. The right people will love you for who you are.

Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear, then appear and disappear. I set my phone down on the table so I can watch his process as I eat my food.

About twenty minutes later, he finally sends a message.

Tobi: That’s really hard to do when I feel like I’ve already lost people being myself.

Savage: I’ll be there in ten minutes and we can talk.

Tobi: Wait what? Why?

Savage: Because I want to see you, and I think this conversation would be better in person.

Tobi: I’m not good in person! Ugh. That’s why I asked you over text.

Savage: I think you need to be able to see me and touch me and hear the tone in my voice.

Tobi: I’m going to be red the whole fucking conversation.

Savage: Hot.

Tobi: It’s not hot!

Savage: Maybe not to you. But you don’t get to tell me what I find attractive.

Savage: I’m here. Come down.

Tobi steps out of the building a few minutes later in a coat and scarf. It’s a little bit of overkill, but he looks cute, so I’m not mad. I offer my hand, and he looks at it for a few long seconds before taking it. I tug him to walk with me.

“Where are we going? I thought you’d just come up?”

“You put on all that for me just to come up?” I look him over again.

“I wasn’t sure. I have anxiety. I had to be prepared for anything.”

“That explains a lot,” I laugh.

“Where are we going?” he asks again.

“I didn’t want to share you with my brother, so I figured we could go get ice cream and talk.”

“Ice cream in the cold?” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Yes. Ice cream while snuggled up with someone next to the fire is quite delightful in the cold weather. You clearly need to try it.” I squeeze his hand and wink.

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

We get to the ice cream shop, and I hold the door.

Tobi stops just inside, looking around with his mouth open.

It’s two floors filled with oversized chairs and love seats.

Lots of tables and games. Coffee and, of course, ice cream.

I’m glad it’s early because a place by the fire is still open.

We walk up to the register and study the daily special flavors.

“Know what you want?” I ask Tobi after a minute.

“Yes. Can I have a s’mores in a waffle cone,” Tobi orders when we’re helped.

“I want birthday cake in a waffle cone with extra sprinkles, and can you add some gummy bears to the top, please?”

Tobi wrinkles his nose in judgement after I pay. “How old are you?”

“Birthday cake is amazing. Get out of here with that.” I smirk, licking my cone after it’s handed to me.

“With extra sprinkles and gummy bears?”

“Who doesn’t like sprinkles? Where is your fucking whimsy?” I grin taking a massive bite.

“I guess I lost it.” Tobi takes his cone.

I link my arm through his to lead him to the seats by the fire. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you find it.”

“How do you know so many places to hang out that don’t involve alcohol?” Tobi asks after we sit down.

“I can’t be hung over every fucking day for school, studying, and interviews. I’m not sure how anyone functions like that.” I sit back and look him right in the eyes as I swirl my tongue over the cream. “Plus, I don’t need a crutch. I have plenty of game without the other person being drunk.”

He squirms in his seat. “Fuck. You really do.”

I love that he’s already getting pink. “Now, let’s go back to our conversation.”

“We don’t have to do that.” Tobi avoids my eyes.

I ignore his objection. “How did you word it? You want me to explain to you how telling you what to do works?”

He nods without looking at me.

“What part of it?”

He mutters something indistinguishable and shrugs.

I stare at him until he says more.

“Ugh.” He lays his head back on the chair, muttering while he’s looking at the ceiling. “I don’t know. All of it? Any of it?”

“What part is confusing?” I brush my fingers over his thigh letting him take his time, perfectly happy to sit here with him all night.

“How do you just tell someone else what to do? Wouldn’t that…I don’t know…get abusive?” He looks at me as he finishes the sentence, and he’s so raw and so innocent, I almost laugh.

Not because it’s funny, but because he’s so cute, I want to squeeze him. But I’d never risk hurting him when he’s being so open and vulnerable. I want to encourage it.

“It can. I think a lot of relationship dynamics can get abusive when trust is involved. I also think only disgusting people take advantage of those situations.”

He picks up his head and returns his attention to his melting ice cream. “Trust is fucking hard.”

“It is. But you can tell me no, even when I’m telling you what to do. All I’m offering is to take the asking out of your hands.”

He considers my words for a minute. “I can just tell you no?”

“Of course you can. Why wouldn’t you be able to?” I watch him carefully, not sure what gave him that idea. If it was me, I need to know because I never need to come off that way.

“Isn’t this like submission?”

“Yes, I guess, in its most basic form, but I wasn’t trying to push you into something like that. I’m only trying to make this easier for you.” I finish my cone and wipe my hands with a napkin before setting one on his thigh.

He glances at my hand and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Can’t focus?” I ask.

Tobi swallows. “It certainly makes it harder.” I lift my hand, but he whines, so I put it back. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it there! It just makes it harder.”

I smirk and squeeze his thigh. “So why wouldn’t you be able to say no even if it is submission?” I ask.

“Don’t they have to do everything their dom says?” He’s looking at me now, fully engaged. “Because I don’t want that.”

“That’s not at all how that works.”

“What? No, that literally is how it works. They are submitting.”

I slip a finger under his chin, tilting his face up just a little, keeping him like this so he hears my words.

“Only a shitty dom has to force a sub to do anything. If a dominant isn’t seducing his submissive into wanting every single thing he’s asking for, sorry, but he’s not doing his job.

Even when they are pushing a sub, they should be coaxing and making the sub desperate for it.

At least that’s how I see it. I want you to feel good and enjoy yourself.

I want you happy. Not doing things to only make me happy.

You’re worth so much more than that. That’s fucked. ”

Tobi morphs right in front of my eyes. He tries to hide it, but I watch it happen in real time. He’s a little teary-eyed, and his pupils dilate. His skin gets a little clammy, and his teeth catch his lip. “I didn’t know any of that.”

“But you want something like that, don’t you?”

“Yes. When you explain it that way, it’s not how I thought it was.”

I slide my hand further up his thigh. “I want you to tell me the second you don’t like anything I’m doing. I get off on you enjoying yourself.”

“R-really?”

“Fuck yes.” I lean over and nip his shoulder. “Finish your ice cream.”

“Why?”

“So I can touch you without making a mess.”

He does what I ask, then cleans his hands off.

I start wordlessly and slowly, barely caressing over his clothes. Innocent areas, along his jawline, down his chest, along the outside of his thighs. He tries to sit still, but I can tell it’s getting harder and harder for him.

“Do you want to go back to your room?”

“What about your brother?” Tobi asks, breath hitching.

“He’s at practice. Let’s go.”