Page 91 of The Story of You
“The next person to call me Eeyore is going to get it.”
“I think he might be a twelve,” Oliver whispers to Lakshan who nods his agreement. “When do I get the book back, Baba? We’ve settled all the turmoil. I’d love to see how we got here.”
It wouldn’t be such a bad idea to keep Darius occupied. “If Darius will allow you to sit with him, you may read it.”
“Silas. I had plans!” Darius says.
I shrug. “Then tell him no.”
“What kind of plans? I won’t get in the way. They can’t be sex plans—Wyatt’s busy and you just came from Simon and Shane’s,” Oliver rattles off.
“I can have sex with myself.”
“But I’m more fun to hang out with.” Oliver’s lip trembles. Even Darius will give him anything he wants with that lip.
He huffs. “Fine. But I was going to work out, so you’ll have to find space in the gym.”
“No problem.”
I fetch the book and hand it to Oliver.
“Um, you’re not … I mean … are you … where will you be?” he forces himself to ask.
I gather him to me and kiss his head. “I’m not going anywhere, Eaglet. I’ll be upstairs with Lakshan for a bit. You’d better find me if you need me. I won’t be pleased to hear you have not.”
“I’ll happily send him your way to cockblock you and Lak. I know the signs that mean he needs you.”
“No. Oliver will make sure he comes to me,” I say giving Oliver what I know he’ll consider Level twelveSilas. The expectation makes me a hypocrite, but I don’t care.
“I will, Baba.”
I release him and he dances away after Darius. I’m left with my disobedient husband. “What do you have to say for yourself?” I say, allowing my most piercing gaze to seep into him.
“Nothing. I’m a free man. Perhaps I’ll stay this way.”
He wants me to chase him, does he? I pull out my talons. “You aren’t a free man. You belong to me whether you’re wearing a collar or not. All this collar says is whether you’re my submissive or not.”
His eyes darken and fill with lust. He’s as still as one would be if they were hiding from an eagle circling them from above. The barest hints of a smile tug at the corners of his lips.
“You play a dangerous game, my lamb,” I warn him. This is the part where he should run.
He breathes carefully. I catch his eyes flicking toward the door and snatch him out of the air before he can leave his seat, tossing him over my shoulder. Lakshan is a good eight inches shorter than I am. He’s closer to Oliver’s height.
“Behave now,” I say, carrying him to our room.
“Fine. You’ve caught me. And I did agree to be yours forever and I vowed to obey you—I will honor that—but I’m still not asking for my collar.”
“Mycollar.”
“Your collar, Silas.”
He’s still up to something. Lakshan doesn’t do anything randomly. I shut the door behind us and fling him onto the bed. “Take your clothes off.”
“No.”
“Now.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He’s slow about it. Smirking. His jacket comes off first.
