Page 139 of Piece Us Together

“I can do that.”

“I know you can.” Hunter’s hand flexes. A squeeze. He’s smiling, bright with pride, and that brightness transfers, lighting Maison’s whole face up. “I can’t wait to lay you out and take you apart, you know that? I’m going to unravel you.”

Maison shudders, red visibly flooding his cheeks. He ducks his head and Hunter lets him, the man chuckling as he starts writingwhat we all just agreed to down on paper. I wonder if he’s going to write the unraveling part too. I wonder how hard Maison would blush seeing it on paper.

I flip the damn ribs, really regretting choosing an intensive recipe. The second they’re flipped, I’m grabbing the onion and starting to cut, not bothering with any tricks. I don’t care if my eyes water. I just want this to be finished so I can get on one—or both—of their penises. Immediately.

“Do I have to call you sir?” Maison asks.

“No. Do you want to?”

“I… don’t think so. I’ve got—there are past experiences.” Before I can even turn around in surprise, Maison hurriedly adds, “The military.”

Maybe itisthe military.

I don’t think it is, but maybe.

It’s his lie—or truth—either way. Not mine.

“It won’t be a rule. If you get the urge, go ahead and call me that. If you get the urge to try some other honorific, you can do that as well. I’ll work with you on it. Follow your lead.”

“That sounds…good.”

“Thatwon’t be a rule,” Hunter says. “But other things will be. I have a feeling that’s where we’re going to butt heads. I want you to know that everything is negotiable except for three things. Well, four, I guess. Let’s go with four.”

Maison sounds pretty unsure, but he says, “Okay.”

“First, we respect limits. Always. It’s not a new rule, I know, but I’ve decided to add it in again. For emphasis. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Maison says.

“Agreed, sir!”

“Next, no skipping out on aftercare.”

“That one is recycled too,” Maison says teasingly.

I have a feeling I know what Hunter is going to say, smirking to myself as I dump the onion into the basin of the slow cooker and move on to the carrots.

Sure enough, Hunter says, “That was a rule for Nolan. I was never allowed to make it for you. Now? Now, youbothwill do aftercare. Always. No more grumbling that you can clean yourself up or you’re not thirsty or whatever else you want to say, regardless of how stubborn you’re feeling.”

“Okay,” Maison says without an ounce of hesitation. “I think—Christ, I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but I—I think it’ll be easier to accept it if it’s a rule.”

Always the soldier.

“Fair enough. Then keep that in mind for this next one.” I tense, waiting with my knife poised. My mind flashes with a hundred things it could be. “No running.” I exhale, low and shaky. I close my eyes. “No. Running. I don’t care how scared you get. How angry or sad. I don’t care if you’re panicking. You can go as far as that door, but you sit your ass down in front of it and stay right here where I can get you. Do you understand?”

I let my chin fall to my chest.

He doesn’t take as long as I thought he would, even if his response is so quiet I barely hear it over my own breathing. “Understood.”

“Promise,” I say without planning to, turning to face him. He’s already looking at me. I lock his gaze with mine. My voice wavers as I say again, “Promise me. Please.”

“I promise you.” He keeps contact with my eyes for another second, then turns to look right into Hunter’s. “I promise both of you.”

It’s a weight off my chest. One I didn’t even realize was there. I turn away from them, realizing I should have saved the onion. Now there’s no excuse for the tears threatening to spill over. Atleast the ribs are ready to be taken out of the skillet. The sizzling oil burns me a little. I welcome it, breathing even easier.

There’s one rule left.

---