Sub Mission

by Ts McKinney

  When our breathing settled, and I thought there was a chance I might have the strength to stand up, I gently eased his legs back to the mattress, slid off of the bed, and headed to the bathroom. Wetting a washrag, I cleaned myself up and then ran warm water over another cloth for Baker. When I walked back into the bedroom, he was still lying in the same position. For a few seconds, I thought he’d drifted off to sleep but when he turned his head in my direction, his eyes were open—wide open. He looked…terrified.

  “Hey, it’s okay, Baker. You were experimenting, nothing more. A lot of men do it. Don’t put too much thought into it.” All my words were wrong—the opposite of what my heart wanted me to say. With a determined step, I crossed the floor and said, “Here, let me clean you up.” He didn’t move as I gently wiped him clean with the warm rag. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was on the edge of a panic attack, and when he went off, it would break my damned heart.

  And I hated myself for that fucking weakness.

  “I’ll clean away all the evidence and we can pretend it never happened.”

  Words. Stupid words. Ignorant words. Untrue words. They kept falling out of my mouth.

  Knowing there was a good chance our voyeur was still looking through his telescope, I tossed the rag in the direction of the bathroom and climbed into the bed with Baker, careful not to touch him. Leaning up, I retrieved the blanket I’d arrogantly kicked aside earlier and pulled it over us. The room was quiet—him on his side of the bed and me on mine. I wanted to hold him, to somehow make his discomfort and denial go away, but knew it would probably result in a wrestling match which wouldn’t be able to be explained to whoever watched us.

  One minute of silence passed. Two minutes. Three. At least he wasn’t having a hissy fit—not on the outside. I was sure he was dying on the inside. Four minutes before the deafening silence was finally broken.

  “Seth…I think we have a problem,” he said in a low, quiet voice.

  Here it came.

  He wasn’t going to be able to work with me anymore. What just happened could never happen again. Or one of my personal favorites—I’d misconstrued his actions and thought he wanted something he really didn’t.

  I’d expected this moment and thought I’d feel nothing but anger and bitterness. Instead of those emotions, though, I felt…grief—a sadness I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Dealing with anger would have been so much easier.

  “What’s that, Baker?” I asked. My voice sounded defeated. Hell, I was defeated.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin when he rolled over, tucked his head beneath my chin and draped one leg over both of mine. One of his arms ended up across my stomach with his palm resting against my side.

  “I, uh, don’t think I’m as straight now as I was this morning.”

  I’d been through a lot in my life, both good and bad. I’d learned to roll with the punches and not let life surprise me enough to knock me flat on my ass. Baker had just knocked me on my ass. Of all the words I’d expected him to say, those weren’t anywhere on my radar. A wave of happiness washed over me so fiercely that I almost giggled out loud. I felt my mouth form a huge smile.

  “Baker…I don’t think that’s a problem.”

  Chapter 6

  Baker

  I’d done a lot of things in my life I was ashamed of, but none of them more so than the cowardly way I’d just behaved. Since my first introduction to Agent Seth Wilkinson, I hadn’t been able to get much sleep, no actual rest, and definitely not any peace of mind. He’d troubled me from the very first moment I laid eyes on him, but I hadn’t been able to understand what it was about him that made me so…itchy. When we’d boarded the plane to Miami, I’d already been exhausted. Then there’d been the thing at the club. Then the aftercare. Then him fixing me food and worrying about my obvious lack of sleep. Then….

  Then the almighty, mother of all biggies—the visit to my bedroom in the middle of the night. When I’d heard him talking out on the balcony, I knew something regarding the assignment was going on. It wasn’t likely he’d be discussing the weather with a friend at that time in the morning. I’d waited for him to come to my room and brief me. I was ready for that. I was not ready for him to show up completely naked, looking all motherfucking hot, delicious, and all the things he should not look to me. Nevertheless, that was exactly how it worked out.

  I took one look at him and all brain functioning stopped. Dead. I had zero capacity to listen to assignment details, regardless of how important they might have been. Zero capacity! The only thing I found myself capable of was looking at his defined muscles, sexy tattoos, and that humongous monster cock between his legs. He’d been rock hard. One look and my dick obviously thought ‘well, two can play that game’ and…the rest was history.

  To say I’d acted like a hungry whore, begging for something because I was too inexperienced in the man on man action department to even know what to beg for, would be the understatement of the decade. Him wanting to put on a show for our possible perp had simply opened a door for me. I’d not only crept through, I’d knocked the motherfucker down in my haste to get inside.

  None of that, however, was what I was ashamed about. No, it was the best sex I’d ever had in my life and I wasn’t going to lie to myself about it and pretend it was something other than the fucking epic moment that it was. I was ashamed because this morning, in the light of the day when all my dirty fantasies were satiated, I’d pretended to be asleep after Seth woke up. I could sense he wanted to do…something, and I’d lain stiff as a fucking board, eyes glued shut, and tried my dead-level best to keep my breathing even.

  My dead-level best hadn’t been good enough. There was no doubt in my mind he knew I was awake, but he’d been gentlemanly enough to not call me on it. After about twenty minutes, which had felt like an hour, he’d climbed out of the bed, used the restroom, and quietly left the room. Thirty minutes later, I was still piled up in the bed, contemplating what I’d done, what it had meant to me, and how it would forever change my life.

  And there was where the problem lay. There was no doubt in my mind that what happened last night was nothing more to Seth than a playful night with a curious virgin, so far as man on man action. It hadn’t been earth-shattering and life-altering to him. If anything, I’d been a really bad lay. Hell, he’d done all the work and I’d done all the moaning. So, this morning, after I woke up and snuggled up against him like I was lost in an ice storm and he was the last bit of heat left in the fucking entire world, I’d pretended to be sound asleep. Last night when I’d been weak and basking in the afterglow of the best orgasm of my life, I’d been able to ignore his comments about acting like it never happened and making the evidence disappear. This morning? Not so much.

  The thing was, I had to get my head screwed back on properly so I could focus on what our true goal of being in Miami was…instead of wondering what Seth’s cock would feel like in my ass. Sure, it sounded like a simple enough task, but I knew me—I’d never be able to do it.

  I had to not let myself make this bigger than it was. It was sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, nothing more for Seth. A helluva lot more for me. Seth probably had sex with his subs all the time—many Doms did. For all I knew, last night was just another chance for Seth to help me get better prepared to handle being his sub when we ‘performed’ at Javier’s club. Maybe Seth was right, the best way to handle the situation was to pretend it had never happened.

  There was a soft knock on the door and then Seth swaggered in without giving me a chance to blink an eye, much less roll over to try and hide my Seth wood.

  “Morning, Sleepy Head!” He said cheerfully but his eyes were sending me a telepathic message to remember that there was a good chance somebody could still be watching our every move through the open balcony doors. The curtains, hanging to the side, fluttered with the ocean breeze.

  He leaned down and placed a casual kiss on my forehead. “Watchers,” he whispered. When he rose back up, a fake smile was on his
handsome face. “Come on. I made us some breakfast.”

  “Uh…y—yeah, s—sure. I’ll be there in a second,” I answered, stuttering like a total idiot.

  He winked and walked out…like nothing had changed…like nothing had happened. I knew better than to be surprised. Hell, I’d just given myself the ‘talk’, but his nonchalance hurt even though I’d known to expect it. Knowing my choices were limited to jumping over the balcony and plunging to my death or facing him in the kitchen, I went into the bathroom, did my business, brushed my teeth, and dug through a drawer to find some sweatpants and T-shirt. When dressed, I put on my game face, which consisted of me trying to mirror his nonchalance, and wandered down the hall toward the kitchen.

  I smiled to myself—thinking of how facing Seth the Dom in the playroom hadn’t been nearly as intimidating as facing Seth the Lover in the kitchen. Correction—he couldn’t even be classified as a lover. He certainly wouldn’t put himself into that category, so I didn’t need to, either.

  When I finally reached the kitchen, the scene in front of me was…breathtaking. Seth was over by the stove, scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and working on building a stack of pancakes. The fact that he cooked brought another smile to my face. It would be fun to tease him about it. The fact that he was wearing nothing more than a pair of loose fitting, low-hanging sweat pants that framed his perfect ass, caused my smile to vanish. I shouldn’t notice his ass and I definitely shouldn’t want to touch it.

  With his back still turned to me, he said, “The curtains are open. If that’s not going to work, go over and close them. Just act like the sun’s too bright or something like that. I’m good either way. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with this morning.”

  “Nah, I’m good with ‘em open,” I answered in a shaky voice. I hoped I could handle it. “I guess it’s best to keep them interested, yeah?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he answered.

  His voice wasn’t shaky, it was…chipper. Bastard.

  “Grab a seat. I’ve got this,” he ordered.

  Seth had already set the table, so I plopped down in one of the seats with a place setting in front of it. I could do this, regardless of how awkward it was or how much of a lying hypocrite it made me feel like. With a surge of determination, I renewed my plan to pretend like last night had meant absolutely nothing more than both of us getting our rocks off.

  He sat two platters down on the table, and turned to grab the plate holding the stack of fluffy pancakes. “I hope you like bacon, eggs, and pancakes.”

  I looked at the food, it smelled delicious, but I normally had a bowl of cereal or a strawberry toasted pastry for breakfast. Not being much of a cook and disliking most fast food places, I’d kinda cornered myself into the cereal category. I knew Landon’s shoppers had gotten me my Fruity Pebbles and there were several boxes of strawberry yummy tucked away in the cabinet, just calling my name.

  “Wow. This is a lot of food,” I said. “I, uh, usually just grab a boxed treat.” I really wanted that pastry. Not only did the fruity sugars cause a happy dance on my tongue, I didn’t need to allow myself to get into the habit of having somebody there for me, offering to cook a delicious smelling breakfast. My stomach growled. Apparently, my entire body was on Team Seth, betraying Team Baker at every corner.

  When he arched a brow at me, I said, “I’ll just grab that box of toasted pastries.” I stood, ready to head toward the cabinet.

  “Sit,” he ordered, and my ass hit the seat with a thud.

  Traitor column: cock, balls, stomach, and ass.

  Those are my most favorite things about me—they bring me the most pleasure.

  “Pop tarts and cereal aren’t exactly healthy, Baker. Especially not day after day. Does your Mistress not get upset with daily abuse of your body?”

  I snorted out a laugh but quickly stifled it when I realized he wasn’t smiling. I guess the whole irony of him or my Mistress worrying about the abuse of my body was totally missed by him—flew straight over his head without slowing down. Lowering my head, I answered, “She hasn’t asked about my eating habits, Sir.”

  “Mmmhmm,” he answered thoughtfully. “Better yet, Baker, go into the living room, grab a pillow off the sofa and bring it into the kitchen.”

  With those words, he dismissed me and started fixing his plate. There went my toasted pastry, flying over the edge of the balcony just like my dignity had soared last night. I had a feeling I was about to be put into a time-out for my eating habits…which I thought were just fine and dandy. My stomach growled loudly when I bent over to pick up the cushion and I mumbled, “Yeah, it serves you right, you fucking traitor. Let’s see how much you like Seth after this morning.” In response, it rumbled again.

  “Your cushion, Sir,” I said after I’d baby-stepped it back into the kitchen area.

  “No, your cushion,” he answered with a smile. He’d already devoured nearly half the bacon and eggs. “Put it on the floor next to my seat.”

  Ohhhhh, maybe my punishment wouldn’t be so horrific after all. A small part of me hoped he was about to force me into an educational class commonly referred to as Cocksucking 101. Fuck…could I even do that? Yes, I was interested. Was I ready? Doubtful.

  I placed the pillow next to his seat and waited.

  “Remove your clothing and then put your knees on the pillow, hands clasped behind your back, and don’t move them again until I say you can.”

  I could do naked. Naked I did all the time. My hands hesitated when they reached the hem of my T-shirt. Naked in front of Seth seemed…different. It was more.

  “Please don’t keep me waiting, Baker,” he said politely. “It won’t benefit you at all to dawdle.”

  As soon as he said my name, the clothes came off and my knees hit the pillow. I was so ridiculously easy. I should be ashamed of how easily he managed to maneuver my body and mind, but I wasn’t. Okay, maybe a little.

  “Good boy,” he praised. “Do you have any food allergies I should be aware of?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Excellent,” Seth answered as he picked up a piece of bacon. “You need to take better care of what’s mine, Baker. There’s plenty of time for sugary sweets but it most certainly isn’t every morning of your life. Your health is very important to me.”

  A trickle of warmth started in my head and slid seductively down my entire body as Seth talked. I wasn’t sure any part of me, my health or body, had ever really been important to anybody. At a very young age, I’d learned to take care of myself while my parents jetted around the world, cruised on their private yacht, or graced galas or charity functions with their presence. If I had a toasted breakfast pastry for every time my mother had reminded me of my accidental conception, Seth would really have a reason to worry about my health!

  When he held the strip of bacon in front of my face, I reached up to accept the sweet gesture from him. He smacked the top of my hand hard enough to make me yelp in surprise and pain.

  “What the fuck, Seth?” I rubbed the burn out of the top of my hand. “If you didn’t want me to have it, don’t dangle it in front of my face.”

  Seth smiled. “That’s one.”

  “That’s one, what?” I asked, still rubbing the sting.

  “That’s one punishment for disobeying me. I told you to clasp your hands behind your back and leave them there. You’ll receive another punishment for speaking rudely to me and yet another one for your lack of respect when addressing me.” He took a bite from the piece of bacon he’d offered me a few seconds ago. “That’s a total of three punishments for today…and you aren’t even through breakfast yet.”

  Seth was nothing more than a sneaky son of a bitch. He probably knew that slipping into my role as his submissive would ease my thoughts away from last night and toward something I was much more familiar and comfortable with. “Yes, Sir,” I answered quietly and dropped my chin against my chest. Several minutes passed with him eating and me wondering if I’d lost my last chance for foo
d before he finally spoke again.

  “Would you like a bite of your breakfast?” he asked.

  Was it possible to hear a smirk in someone’s voice? Because if it was, I heard his loud and clear.

  “Yes, Sir,” I answered.

  “Ask me nicely, then.”

  Thankfully my head was still bowed, and he couldn’t see the eye roll I gave him. “May I please have a bite of food?”

  “Raise your head and open your mouth for me.”

  When I obeyed, he broke off a piece of bacon and pushed it into my mouth. It was still warm and crispy, causing the delicious flavors to explode on my tongue. I chewed and swallowed. It wasn’t like I used my hands to eat, but they still felt weird clasped behind my back while I ate.

  He offered me another bite, which I gladly accepted. I’d never fried bacon and wasn’t sure if it was easy to fuck up or if anybody could cook it, but I was pretty sure eating from Seth’s hand made it the best bacon I’d ever had in my mouth.

  “That’s four, Baker—for the eye roll when your head was down,” Seth explained calmly at the exact moment I tried to swallow my second bite. I nearly choked on the small piece of meat.

  “There’s no way you saw that,” I grumbled.

  His brow arched upward. “Are you denying it?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Very good, Baker,” he said as he placed a forkful of eggs to my lips.

  So our breakfast continued—him eating and then feeding me. I didn’t exactly earn any more punishments, but did learn that if I allowed the maple syrup to accidentally trickle down my chin, Seth would make a tsking sound and then lick it off. Who would have ever known I could be such a messy eater?

  When we finished, Seth said, “You did very well, Baker. Thank you for allowing me to take care of your needs.”

  “Thank you for taking care of me, Sir.”

  He leaned back in his chair and said, “I cooked. You clean up the mess. No clothes will be necessary.”