Page 41 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“Well, like I said, we’ll start slow, but I’ll reach out today.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
Frost stood, staring down at his husband. “I’ll be back in an hour, maybe two. Remember what I said. Inside and out.”
“I’ll remember. I’ll get it done.”
He winked, the pressure on his chest easing. “Good, because there’s a reward for being a good boy.”
“Is there that?” That made Q laugh. “I promise, then. I’ll be the best boy ever.”
Thirteen
Quentin had done everything Frost asked him to do. He’d cleaned up, he’d gotten himself cleaned out, and he was dressed in comfortable soft clothing. He’d picked up the apartment, dimmed the lights just enough, and gotten a couple of those fake candles burning. He didn’t like the idea of a fire, so he never burned real ones. And he was ready for whatever Frost had coming his way.
The fact was, he was probably more than ready. The serious conversation they’d had unsettled him and left him jittery and ready to jump out of his own skin. He needed Frost to ground him again. He needed a scene to put him into his space and let him get out of his own head.
Frost was so good at that. So wonderful and so easy with him. That was one reason Q had fallen for him. Nothing else had ever been so easy.
And even when things hadn’t been simple, even when they’d been harder than anything had ever been in his whole life, he hadn’t wanted to lose Frost. Every time he looked at those stupid divorce papers, he wanted to burn them, but he really didn’t do that either unless he was outside at the firepit.
Frost didn’t knock when he came back. He used his key to get through the door instead of buzzing.
“Hey, baby.” Frost smiled at him, those hazel eyes so bright, just on fire for him. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. I did what you asked me to do.”
“Excellent. You know I love it when you’re a good boy.”
“Uh-huh. You did say there were going to be rewards if I was good.”
“Did I say that?” Frost carried an overnight bag with him again, and he set it down on the coffee table, coming over to give Q a kiss. He smelled Quentin’s hair, breathing deep, and Quentin heard Frost chuckle. “You washed up well.”
“I did. The ‘out’ was easier than the in, but I wasn’t about to ask somebody else to come help me.”
“But you’re not too tired, and you didn’t hurt yourself?”
He listened to Frost’s tone as well as his words and realized that it was a concerned Dom asking a sub a question, not Frost asking poor weak Q a question. It made a difference. Active listening, his therapist called it.
“I’m not too tired. I was careful, and I need this, Sir. My skin doesn’t fit.”
“Well, that I think I know how to fix.” He got one of those dangerous smiles, the ones that meant Frost was in Dom mode.
“I hope so.” Quentin loved a little danger in his man. “How do you want me, Sir?”
“Mmmm. How do you feel about the bed today, boy? Since we have it at our disposal.” Frost had spent a good bit of time asking him about his body, about what could hurt when and how to get around it.
“Beds are one of the best places for this, I think, Sir.” And Q was more than ready.
“Good.” Frost winked at him. “Let’s get you settled, then. I think sitting up with your back to the headboard.”
“Yes, Sir.” He wheeled over to the bed, which was made with clean sheets. “Partition open or closed?”
“Closed, please.”
He hit the remote, and suddenly they were in a cozy, warm cocoon of a room.
“Nice.” Frost had brought his bag over before they were closed in, and he rummaged in it, coming out with all sorts of things. Cuffs. Bondage tape, which was fab because it only stuck to itself, that blindfold…
