by Jane Henry
And then her brain swung back to the practical once more.
“I’ll call Mark and Carolyn in the morning, see if they can fill in. Plus, we could call Alice. She’s not supposed to start for a few weeks, but she’s already filled out her paperwork, so maybe she can come in…”
Tony bent his head and cut off her words with a kiss. Partly because she was sexy as hell in her tank top and microscopic shorts. Partly because her calm, efficient tone gave him some childish need to ruffle her feathers. And partly because she was his and he fucking could.
“Tony!” she protested a moment later. “I was just trying to…”
He kissed her again. He ignored Nora, giggling on the couch, and for just a moment, blocked out all the problems that awaited them at the restaurant in the morning and all the niggling doubts about his ability to be enough for her, and did what came naturally. He focused on nothing but kissing her until she stopped protesting, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back.
Long moments later, he finally lifted his head to find her looking adorably confused.
“I think it’s time for bed, babe.”
She nodded like someone in a trance, and it made him chuckle.
“Got plans tomorrow, favoritest employee ever?” he asked Nora.
Nora looked back and forth between him and Tess and grinned hugely. “If that’s your way of asking me to come in and help out tomorrow, I’m down. Better get some sleep. ‘Night, guys.” She picked herself off the sofa and walked off towards the spare room down the hall.
“I really like that kid,” Tony told Tess.
Tess smiled. “Me too,” she said softly. “And she’s probably right. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow and you’re already tired. We should probably get some sleep.”
Tony pretended to think about it, then nodded. “We should, baby, and we will. But first…”
He spun her around so that her back was pressed up against his front, and rested his hands lightly on her hips. He nipped lightly at her earlobe, loving the way she instinctively pressed herself back against him.
“I’ve heard a rumor that you have some awesome moves,” he breathed in her ear, as he directed her towards their bedroom. “And I think I’m gonna need to see them for myself.”
* * *
Tony unlocked the alley door and let himself into Cara, juggling his travel mug and the hanger that held the clean uniform he’d change into once the restaurant opened. The chill of the predawn October air had managed to sink into his bones just on the short walk from the car, and he was so fucking tired it wasn’t even funny.
Not that he was complaining, not really. Not at all. Because, yeah, yesterday had sucked. And yeah, the thought of doing it all again today, plus handling the catering for three separate events tonight, was enough to make a man’s balls shrivel. And yeah, he was still worried about all the shit he should be doing for Tess that he wasn’t capable of doing. And yeah, maybe it would’ve been a little easier if he’d had a couple more hours of sleep.
But then he wouldn’t have had last night with Tessa, and that was unthinkable.
He’d told her he wanted to see her dance. And his girl, his honest-to-God fantasy come to life, hadn’t hesitated before she’d whispered, “Should I get my costumes?”
And that was it. Game over for him forever. Because no other sexual experience would ever rival the utter perfection of seeing her ass peeking out from beneath a sparkly dance skirt as she crouched chest-down on their bed and presented herself to him for a spanking. Her skin had been so fucking smooth, so perfect, so warm beneath his hand after he’d…
Shit.
He shifted the hanger to his other hand so that he could adjust himself. Today was gonna be long enough without walking around with a hard-on for the next eighteen hours.
He stomped to his office and hung up his clothes, then made his way back to the kitchen. His occupied kitchen.
“Morning, boss,” John sang as he rolled out dough on the counter. “You’re in early! Isn’t it beautiful out there today? Don’t you just love autumn?”
Tony sipped his coffee and contemplated the other man with a scowl. The sun hadn’t risen, but the kitchen already smelled deliciously of vanilla and butter from the trays of cooling pastries, and silver bowls lined up along one counter held various fillings and sauces. Logically, Tony knew John was used to his early-bird productivity—he did the baking for Cara and for his own catering business, and had usually cleaned up and cleared out long before the rest of the staff arrived, leaving cupcakes and other tasty treats for them like a benevolent pastry fairy. For this reason and many others, he had quickly become one of Tony’s favorite people.
But that ended now. People who functioned before dawn were an abomination.
“Rough night, huh?” John joked, watching him with wide blue eyes.
Tony knew that John was slightly older than he was, somewhere around thirty, but those eyes, along with his always-perfectly-styled wavy brown hair made him look much younger and more innocent, like an overgrown angel. Until he opened his sarcastic mouth.
“Ah, I see,” John said, nodding sagely. “Looks like Tessie left you in a fuck-coma. Well, when you’re ready to emerge, blink twice.”
Tony shook his head and headed around the counter to the station beside John’s, pulling his apron off its peg as he passed.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re really fucking annoying this early in the morning?” he grumbled.
John snickered. “Um, that would be Paul. Every single morning. Which is one of the reasons he was thrilled when I took this job and had to come in early. He says I look at him too loudly, like he can hear all the thoughts in my brain, and it wakes him up.” He shrugged.
Tony had new sympathy for Paul. “Never good to drive your boyfriend crazy first thing in the morning,” he told John. He went to the refrigerator and took out a tray of washed produce, ready to be chopped. “Gotta let him ease into the day.”
John hmphed. “Is that what’s wrong with you this morning? Tessa driving you crazy?”
Tony let the tray fall on the counter with a clatter and turned to look at the other man. “Excuse me?”
John shrugged and kept his eyes on the pastry dough he was turning on the counter. “You’re in a surly mood. I wondered if there was trouble in paradise, and maybe I could help. If you wanna talk about it, I can listen. That’s all.”
Tony bit back his impatience. Surly. Who the fuck even used the word surly? He wasn’t surly. And he most definitely didn’t want to talk about anything, that was for damn sure. He wasn’t some Neanderthal who pretended he didn’t have feelings… but he’d be damned if he’d stand around talking about them. Plus, talking about his feelings made shit more real.
Still, he knew John meant well. Mostly.
“I’m just tired. And yeah, Tess and I got into it a little bit this morning, but it was no big deal,” Tony said, giving John part of the story. “Bunch of people called in sick with a stomach bug yesterday, and Tess is all hyped up and ready to problem-solve.” He snorted and shook his head at the memory. She was so fucking cute. “I told her there was nothing she could do at this hour, and I didn’t want her to see her here until 10:30 at the earliest. She’s bringing Nora.”
John looked at him, eyes wide with alarm. “And what did she say about that?”
“Nothing. I mean, she wasn’t happy. Tried to explain that she could help with the prep. Like I really need help chopping veggies when she already works a million hours a week.” He rolled his eyes and grabbed one of his chef’s knives, demonstrating how he made short work of dicing a bell pepper. “But I told her no, and she went back to bed. No big deal.” Except that the way she’d flipped her hair and sashayed back to their room had provided him with another glorious visual.
“No big deal,” John echoed. “You know that Tess is a steam roller, right? Couple weeks ago, Rao and Mark were talking shit and things got heated. Tess stepped in and threatened to fire both their a
sses. Had this former-Army sergeant and the toughest street kid I’ve ever met ready to cry without even raising her voice. But with you, she just gave in. And it’s no big deal?”
Tony shrugged again. “Well, yeah.” Tess had always deferred to him on the rare occasions when he laid down the law like that. It was a given.
John nodded slowly, as though seeing something Tony didn’t.
“So can we drop it now? How’s Paul?”
“He’s great. We’re going mountain biking later,” John said, waving a hand dismissively at Tony’s attempt to change the subject. After a moment’s pause, he continued, “You know, I’ve only known Tess for a few months now, but I’ve legit never seen her as happy as she’s been the past couple of weeks. I think you’re good for her. Your relationship is good for her.”
Tony grunted noncommittally. John had no clue. Sure, things were great now, but what would happen when she realized she needed a real dom?
“I think you’ve got something special,” John continued, undeterred by Tony’s lack of enthusiasm. “Like with Heidi and Dom, and Hillary and Matteo.”
Tony huffed out an annoyed breath. “Not quite.”
“No, seriously,” John said. “It’s just like that.”
“Dude, I know you mean well, but…”
“You’re making her happy, she’s making you happy…”
“Man, I don’t wanna talk about this. Butt out.”
“I’m just saying it’s a good thing!” John said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “She’s happy!”
“Yeah, she’s happy for now!” Tony finally exploded, tossing the knife down on the counter with a clatter. “But who knows how long that will last?”
John turned to him, calmly wiping his hands on the kitchen towel at his waist, completely unperturbed, as though he’d been expecting this outburst. “What makes you think it won’t last forever?” he asked gently.
Fuck. Exactly what Tony was trying to avoid thinking about this morning. Precisely the conversation he didn’t want to have.
“Tess has… She wants…” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not sure I can give Tess everything she needs, okay?”
John leaned a hip on the counter. “Like, you don’t love her? You don’t want a long-term relationship?”
“No! Christ, no. Of course I want long-term with her. It’s just that she has other things she needs,” he said lamely. “Drop it. Please.”
John nodded and turned back to his dough, leaving Tony alone with his diced veggies and his crappy thoughts.
But not for long.
“You know, Tess and I have a lot in common,” John said hesitantly.
“Mmhmm,” Tony agreed. “I’ve heard you have an hour-long conversation about Real Housewives of Wherethefuckever. It was scarring.”
“Not that, asshole,” John said, shaking his head.
Tony turned and glared at him, one eyebrow raised.
“Ah, I meant, not that, boss,” John amended. “Sorry.”
Tony nodded. Damn straight. He returned his attention to his chopping.
“I mean, certain other things in common. Um, relationship things.”
“Like you’re both into guys?” Tony asked, looking up in surprise. “This isn’t news, buddy.” Not that John had ever hidden his sexual orientation, but John’s boyfriend Paul was best friends with Heidi, and that’s how Tony and John had first met, so it was hardly a secret.
John nodded. “But beyond that. We’re both, um… submissives.” He said the last word in a rush and his face turned beet red.
Tony turned to look at him. “Yeah. I know.”
“You do? Does it freak you out?” John asked softly.
Tony shook his head firmly. “Nah. Makes me think I’m the only guy in Boston who’s not into this stuff, though.”
“You’re not?” John’s face fell. “Oh. Oh, that could be a problem.”
Tony snorted, even as the confirmation made his gut burn. “No shit, Sherlock. Geez, this was fucking helpful. Can sharing time be over now?”
John contemplated him with a frown. “Are you sure you’re not into it? Not even a little?”
Tony set down the knife and stared at the other man, crossing his arms over his chest. Was he really gonna talk about this?
Fuck him. Apparently he was.
He sighed. “Spanking her ass in bed is about the hottest thing I’ve ever done or seen, okay? But the rest? Making up rules, doling out punishments, being that stern, hard-assed guy?” He blew out a breath and thought of his beautiful Tess, of her soft brown eyes and her scars, both visible and invisible. “She’s had enough people in her life who hurt her and punished her and told her she wasn’t good enough. If I ever made her feel that way, if I made her sad, what would that say about me?”
John nodded. “Well, right. I mean, if you broke her heart, I would kick your ass,” John told him.
Tony shot him a look, but John stared back defiantly. Tony nodded. Fair enough.
“But then you see my problem, dude. How do I punish her, make her feel bad… when I mostly want to keep her safe and happy every minute of the day?” Tony shook his head glumly. “Not gonna work. And I, uh…” Shit. How could he talk about this without being too personal? “I’ve heard that some people who like this stuff need to be spanked regularly. Like, if they don’t, they miss it. And fun, little sexy spankings aren’t enough. They need to be more… real.”
John nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. For some of us, the spankings help us connect with our emotions in a way we can’t otherwise. Brings things to the surface. It’s a pain that we can let ourselves feel. And it feels good to give up control to someone who deserves it. Cathartic, you know?”
“Kinda like pounding the hell out of a bag at the gym?” Tony guessed.
John smiled. “Probably. I’ll take your word for it.” He winked and Tony smirked. Then John continued, “But you know, there doesn’t necessarily have to be a punishment involved if you don’t want there to be.”
“What?” Wasn’t that the whole point?
John ran a hand through his perfect brown hair and tried to explain. “You said you like spanking her in bed, right? Well, why not give her a stress-relief spanking when she needs it? When you see her getting agitated, when you see that she’s spiraling, spank her. Not as punishment, and not because she broke a rule, but because she needs it. And not a fun little spank. A hard one, one that she can really feel, one that goes on for a while. Cathartic, like I said.”
A serious spanking that wasn’t about discipline so much as keeping her grounded? Something he could give her that would help her deal with shit? Keep her happy?
“Yeah, okay. I could do that.” His mind flashed back to his palm slapping her rosy cheeks the night before, and he felt a flush work over his face. “I could definitely do that.”
John smiled. “Well, there you go, then!”
Uh, not quite. Tony took a deep breath and spoke the words that had been rattling around his brain for weeks.
“But how long until she gets tired of the half-assed thing?”
John looked at him skeptically. “Half-assed?”
“No rules, no punishments. No whips and chains and floggers. I’m not that guy, John. For Tess, I almost want to try to be, but I can’t. I spent months with Val trying to be someone I’m not, and I can’t go back to that. Not even for Tess.” He raked his fingers through his hair and paced the kitchen in agitation. “I’m not a dominant. Not really. I like when she’s sassy. I love watching her take charge of the restaurant and kick ass. That story about her making Mark and Rao cry? Hot as fucking hell.”
John snickered. “Yeah. Objectively speaking, it kinda was.”
Tony snorted. Jesus, this guy.
“But, Tony, you’ve got a whacked idea of what this stuff is all about. There’s no one definition of what this dynamic means, and no right or wrong way to do it. It’s whatever you want it to be and whatever Tess needs it to be. You just need to talk to
her and figure out what that is.”
John was looking at him earnestly, and Tony wanted to believe what he was saying, but it sounded a little too good to be true.
“I appreciate you trying, man,” Tony said, resuming his place at his station. “Let’s drop it for now and we’ll see how it goes, okay?” He grabbed an enormous metal bowl and tossed in all his chopped vegetables, along with some oil and seasoning in preparation for roasting, effectively ending the conversation.
If only he could shut his thoughts off as easily.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John nod and turn his attention to his own work, placing dough in the refrigerator to chill, and taking cooled pastries off the rack to fill.
“Hey, boss? Which is better, chocolate filling or vanilla?”
Tony turned to look at the half-dozen bowls in front of John. “Huh?”
“Which is better, vanilla crème anglaise or chocolate mousse? Or strawberry compote? Or crème caramel? Chopped apples and brandy? Cinnamon cayenne pecans? Which one?” John asked, pointing to each silver bowl in turn.
He asked this like it was a normal question, but Tony couldn’t remember John ever asking his opinion in the past. Like, ever.
“Do you mean for the catered banquet tonight? Or for brunch? Or dinner? Don’t you always do, you know, a variety?” Tony asked in confusion.
“Yeah, but I’m asking which is best,” John said.
Tony shook his head. “You mean, in my opinion? I like caramel, but they’re all good. Chocolate mousse is popular, I think.”
“Yes, but which is right, Tony? Which is the real filling, the correct filling?” John pressed.
“Correct? Correct for what? Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” Tony asked.
“I’m talking about D/s, Tony. And you just illustrated my point. There’s no one right flavor for everyone.”
Tony blinked. Then blinked again. Well, shit.
“A dominant’s job is really hard,” John said, his eyes on his work as he filled a pastry bag with the decadent chocolate mousse. “You have to focus on your sub, learn to read her needs, know when to comfort and when to push, so you can help her be happy and fulfilled. You can’t seriously imagine there’s a one-size-fits-all solution to that, right? ‘Cause if there’s not a one-size solution for something as simple as dessert, man, how can there be one size for relationships?”
