“I’ve been busy.”
It’s the same excuse he’s used all week, and I don’t buy it.
“Nah, there’s something else. Will you tell me, Whit? Let me in?”
Whit stiffens beneath me and says, “There’s nothing to tell, Caleb.”
I roll my eyes and then press a kiss to his neck before relaxing my arms and letting him move off of me.
He holds out a hand to me, and I slip my fingers through his and stand. We move toward the food table, and Whit hands me a plate.
“Are you packed for our trip?” he asks, and I send him a look.
He should know me better than that.
Whit sighs heavily. “Fine, we’ll pack when we get back. And youwillbe using that duffle bag I bought you. If I see that plastic bag one more time….”
“That bag served me for many years,” I reply as I shovel food onto my plate.
“You got it at a Walmart. I threw it away, by the way.”
I shrug. “I’ll find another.”
He glowers at me, and I smile widely at him. “Just kidding, babe. I love the bag you got me. I promise to use it from now on.”
I lean over and press a kiss to his frowning mouth.
When I pull back, I watch him roll his lips between his teeth and look at me. Then he leans forward and says lowly, “When we get home, I’m going to spank that ass red again and then fuck you into the mattress. Maybe I’ll even find another one of your deplorable plastic bags and tie you up with it, so you’ll have no choice but to let me do whatever I want to you.”
Oh shit.
I inhale sharply and then adjust myself subtly as I move through the food line, needing to get this show on the road. Because being tied up by Whit is like a major fantasy of mine. And there is no time to waste.
He chuckles darkly behind me, and I send him a glare as we sit down.
“You know when you say things like that, how I get,” I hiss. “You’re literally torturing me. And at Friendsgiving, no less. It’s shameful, man.”
Whit reaches under the table and brushes his knuckles across my hard length, and I nearly choke on my mashed potatoes.
“I think we should just go now,” I say, pushing my plate away, but Whit spreads his napkin on his lap and picks up his fork.
“I think I’ll stay for a while.”
I stare at him and watch as he smirks at his plate.
This guy.
* * *
Whit packs for me. Look, I was going to do it myself but gave up after he loomed over me, commenting about how negligent I was by just stuffing my clothes into the nice leather duffle bag he bought me. How that’s careless is beyond me, but he sighed in satisfaction when I gestured toward the bag and my pile of unfolded clothes. Instead, I sat on the bed and watched him fold my clothes nicely, and then when our bags were packed and waiting by the front door, he did as he promised.
He tied me up and fucked me into the mattress.
Needless to say, I slept like the dead that night, too sore to move a muscle. Whit’s beneath me when I wake up, kneading my tender ass. The fingers that tortured me so deliciously last night are offering some comfort, and I nuzzle further into him at the gesture.
“Don’t stop,” I mutter.
“We’ve got to head out,” he says, and I groan.