Page 53 of Dominance

Just like that, even in my stupor, I see the discomfort all over the room.

The majority of the faces I recognized are gone, but the few that remain are tense. Playing along. Tolerating the obscene display to stay on Dom’s good side.

“You know what? I am tired,” I speak up, making a show of rubbing my eyes and yawning.

“Aw! Baby boy needs to go to bed?” Dom mocks, shaking his head and swaying between the three scantily clad bimbos, too coked-up and drunk to realize what’s going on around them. “Pussy!”

“Ah, fuck you!” I spout off, real anger bubbling up in my chest, darkening my vision.

Fuck him.

I could do it. Right here. Beat the fuck out of Dom.

“I agree. I’m exhausted. Why don’t we get you home to bed, my love?” Gloria’s arm hoops through mine, diverting me with a subtle tug of her hand at my cheek.

“Huh? Yeah. Bed…” The image pops into my head, sounding so good suddenly.

Bed. Gloria.

But Gloria, the hopeful look, the insistent look in her eyes breaks through the haze, cues me into her discomfort. I’m nodding and shuffling toward the door without looking back.

The ride home is quiet, blurry.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I’m tipping, falling, and my head’s in her lap.

Looking down at me, she huffs, twisting that scrumptious mouth into a half smile, half frown.

“You’re fucking drunk. And cute.”

“Ooo, language, sassy lady. And I know I am.”

“Wow, modest and almost intelligible,” she mocks, running her fingers through my hair.

Her features blur, the car dims for a few moments and we’re home, at the apartment.

A skip and a hop and a tumble later, I’m flopping back on my bed sighing. What a night.

Not in a good way, really.

But not bad.

“Thanksfertakin’carovme,” I mumble. “I getso fugging tired of the bullshit, you know?

“Here. Drink.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll feel like shit tomorrow,” I say, sitting up looking as serious as I can.

Her head pulls back at first, looking warily at me. Then that angry scowl breaks.

“You are so ridiculous.”

“No, you’re Saint Nicholas. Like Christmas. You should have seen her, in that teal dress…”

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