Twenty-Nine

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ATTY

I stepinto the bedroom with a towel around my waist, but Toby isn't there. The door is open, so I peek down the hall. There's a light on in the distance, so I assume he's making us something to eat.

Stepping into the closet, I toss the towel on a hook on the way to my underwear drawer. As I grab for a pair of boxer briefs, I pause as the silky fabric of the thongs Toby likes stare up at me, the plug sitting on top of them.

Imagining the way Toby's going to look at me, I grab the plug and a thong instead. Then I grab the bag Toby brought from his place and head back into the bathroom, closing the door quietly.

It's awkward every time I put the plug in myself. There must be a trick or something I don't know about because it feels very different when Toby puts the plug in me. It feels good. Now, it's not just awkward but uncomfortable.

Then again, the discomfort could be because we've been fucking like rabbits for almost forty-eight hours. My ass needs a break. I'm sore in a way I haven't been in a very long time.

I shimmy a little, letting the plug settle as my face scrunches. This isn't exactly the definition of letting my ass have a break. But whatever. He's going home tomorrow because he has to work. I can have a break then and enjoy his cock now.

Tongs aren't as awkward as I thought they were initially. The strip of fabric between my crack is very evident throughout the day. Unlike a jockstrap, where I'll eventually forget about it, I rarely forget there's fabric between my ass cheeks.

I glance in the mirror and my cheeks heat. Jesus, the way this thong strains around my cock makes me look huge. I'm not. I'm not exactly small, but I'm not big. The thong suggests otherwise.

Shaking my head, I dig through Toby's bag and pull out one of the dresses. Slipping it over my head, I adjust it so it sits right. At least, how I imagine it's supposed to sit. It's looser than some of the others I've put on and I appreciate the room to move. It makes the gentle glide of the fabric over my skin a much more potent feeling.

Gathering my hair, I pull on one of my elastics and set it at the back of my head. Then frown. I'm going to need a cut again. If it's long enough that I can gather it all, I'm letting it grow too long. Besides, I'm done with that look. No more Viking Hector. Time for clean-cut Atty.

I don't see anything else in Toby's bag for me to do on my own. I'm not going to attempt nail polish. That's far too detailed a task for me. With a glance in the mirror, I snort. I look silly.

Flicking off the light, I leave the bathroom and head through the house to find Toby. I pause in the hall to watch him move around my kitchen like he's been there his entire life. It makes my stomach flutter.

When I moved here, I swore to myself that the next person I invited into my space was going to be the woman I married. Living in a place with old memories everywhere I looked was difficult. Not because they were bad memories, but because the space didn't feel like mine. It felt like I was intruding on a past that didn't want me.

There wasn't a single room in my house that I could go without seeing Marie. It was a constant barrage, tempting me to take the easy option in life. I could have everything I wanted if I just did what everyone wanted me to.

Everything except the epic love story, the crippling chemistry, the fairy tale happily ever after.

But sometimes, settling for something you can guarantee is more tempting than looking for the unknown. Too many times to count, I gave in to that. Because we didn't have any bad memories. They were good. Fond. Comfortable, like my favorite sweats.

But watching Toby, I know I made the right decision. Letting go of Marie, moving to a new house, completely remaking my appearance—it all led me to this moment.

Toby is exactly what I've always imagined. Well, kind of. He has a stick instead of a pocket in his pants. Inwardly, I snort. The moment Hugo said that for the first time, I nearly pissed myself. Now it's one of those strange things that's stuck with me and I think of it at the weirdest of times.

He's in nothing but shorts. The kind I wear to the gym. All the gay stereotypes drift through my head and I wonder why Toby doesn't fit into them. Would I care if he did? Would it have changed my attraction to him?

Maybe I'm also androphilic. Perhaps it's masculinity that I'm attracted to.

Okay, that only works on men. I've definitely found I err toward the softer, more feminine women over the years. Besides, it's not all men. I'm definitely not attracted to all forms of masculinity when I see it.

I shake my head. I don't need to have a reason I'm attracted to Toby. There doesn't need to be an equation that explains it. I just am. I'm allowed to have an exception.

Taking a breath, I step into the kitchen so I can stop overthinking. Toby glances over his shoulder and then does a double take. I love the way he stares. His eyes intent as they track down my body.

With my lip between my teeth, my hands fidgeting with the hem of the dress, my cheeks begin to burn. I feel so… beautiful when he looks at me like that. I've never been looked at how he looks at me. Like I'm the only one he sees. The only one he wants.

Toby's lips part and then his tongue peeks out as he licks them. When his eyes meet mine, they're filled with heat.

Walking toward him, I reach behind his back to turn off the burner. No need to start a fire or ruin whatever he's cooking.

His hands move over my chest and stomach, up around my shoulders, and then down my arms. He groans. "You don't want to eat today, do you?" he groans, looking down my body. "I really want to bend you over the counter and fuck you in this."

Toby's hand slides down to my ass cheek. He hauls me against him so he can reach around to follow the thong between my crack. I feel the moment he finds the plug. He groans again. "Fuck, Atty. The things you do to me." He rocks his hips so I can feel his cock growing.

I grin. "So… can I ask you something?"

He nods, his hands still moving over my body as if he can't help it.

"You used two labels that say you're attracted to masculinity. But… there's nothing masculine about this dress."

Toby grins. His hands stop exploring and he wraps his arms around my waist. "I love that you're still researching, Atty," he murmurs. "Learning. Educating yourself. That's more of a turn on than anything you wear."

"Mmm." I love the way he hugs me. I could get lost in his hold for hours.

"Youare masculine. Your body. Your temperament. Your behavior. Your hobbies. That's who you are. That's what I'm attracted to. My kink is dressing all those muscles into something soft and frilly because you let me. You wouldn't dress this way on your own. You wouldn't paint your nails on your own. You do this for me and me alone. That's my kink more than my attraction."

"Kink," I say, sighing. "Now I feel like I need to learn more about what that means since, to me, I hear that and automatically think dom/sub or handcuffs and whips and gags."

He chuckles. "Kink covers a lot of things, but it basically means that a person has a specific sexual preference. The official definition uses the word ‘unusual' to describe the sexual preference, but that's because the old, white, conservative men who write the dictionary only believe in having sex in the missionary position with a person of the opposite sex and have never given someone an orgasm in their lives."

I snort.

Toby kisses my cheek and lets me go. "Go sit. Let's eat and then I'll ravish you."

I take my place at the kitchen island and watch as he cooks. We talk of nothing while he does, and he joins me when he's finished. We sit quietly and eat. It's comfortable. A longing in my chest says that I want to do this every day. Not the dress part. Or the butt plug—also something I'm always aware of.

But this. Being with him. Eating with him.

"So, are you an only child?" Toby asks.

I nod. "Yep. My mom had a miscarriage when I was five. It wrecked her and I don't think they tried again after that. The idea that she could lose another one was too much for her."

"Ah. I'm sorry."

Atty nods. "I was a kid. I remember her crying, but it didn't really mean much to me at the time, you know?"

"Yep."

"You?"

Toby nods. "I have a sister. We're not that close."

"Are you close with your parents?"

He nods again. When he's finished chewing, he says, "I talk to them every week." As I look at him, I swear there's a flush on his cheeks. He adds, "I told them about you a couple weeks ago."

I grin. "Yeah?"

"Of course, they made a bigger deal about it than necessary. Then Jayse reminded me I've never told them about someone I'm seeing. But then again, I've never really dated anyone, never mind had a boyfriend. What did you call it? Whoring it up or something?"

I laugh, shrugging. "And they're supportive?"

Toby nods as he takes another bite. "Yep. This is going to sound strange, maybe but I think I came out when I was like… six. Boys were always my preferred gender, but I think I was always correcting everyone when they'd say things like ‘when you grow up and have a wife' and I'd be horrified. ‘NO! A husband!'" Toby laughs. "So yeah, I've always made it clear that I was gay far before that meant something. My parents started supporting that and while they didn't correct others when they made a hetero assumption on me as a child, they did make it always gender neutral."

"That's really cool of them," I say. "I'm not sure all parents would do that."

"I have great parents," Toby agrees, smiling fondly. "How about you? Are you close with yours?"

I think about it for a minute and then sigh. "I think I was once. Before everything with Marie's family. Thinking back, I think I've put a lot of distance between us over the years as their pushing became… invasive. In the what, nine months since Marie and I broke up for good? I've talked to them maybe three times. I've gotten tired of listening to them push for me to ‘stop messing around and settle down with Marie.' I've missed like nine engagements as far as they're concerned, never mind wedding dates. We're far past the prescribed date that we should have had our first and second kids." I shake my head, sighing.

"I'm sorry," Toby says.

"Meh." I shrug. "Obviously, I haven't told them about this. Not because I'm scared to, or anything. They get on board or they don't. I just haven't talked to them in a while because I'm so fucking tired of hearing about Marie."

Toby nods, his eyes trained on me. I'm not sure if he wants to say something, or if he's not sure what to say. "Want a drink?" he asks, setting down his fork and getting up.

"Sure. Thanks."

I take a few more bites of my food. When Toby doesn't come back, I glance at him. He's standing in front of the fridge, staring at something on it. I shift so I can see what he's looking at but he's blocking whatever it is.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

He comes back with bottles of water. "You have a wedding in a few weeks," he says. I glance at the fridge and see the invitation. "It's for you and Marie to attend."

I reach for him, pulling him to me and kissing him. "I RSVP'd with a plus one, crossing out Marie's name. The bride is my cousin. She called when she received it and we talked. Marie will be there. Likely her parents and brothers, too. But my cousin understood what our parents did not."

Toby releases a breath. "I swear, I'm not a jealous person."

Grinning, I press my lips to his. "How do you feel about being my date?"

"I don't want you to feel pressured into taking me because I brought it up," he says. "I was distracted by it. That's all."

"Not pressured," I promise, shaking my head. "I'd have asked you in a week, probably last minute because I forgot about it, and a phone reminder a few days before would have sent me into a panic to make arrangements and get my boyfriend on board."

Toby grins. "I love when you call me your boyfriend."

"That's what you are."

He presses his forehead to mine. "You ready to tell your family that you have a boyfriend?"

My shoulders drop a little. "My options are pretty light. I can go stag and let them try to push me and Marie together all night. I can bring a random girl, who will be horrified by the way they treat her as if she's scorned Marie. I can bring Hugo, dressed in a dress, which had been my intention before we met. Or, I can bring you and tell them the truth. Since the last option means I get to spend time with you, I'm choosing that one."

His smile climbs. "There's going to be questions."

"I'm ready for questions. And if there's one that's uncomfortable, I'm also very good about demanding my boundaries be respected."

"You're ready for questions, huh?"

I nod. "Yeah. I'm ready."

"So, you're gay now?" Toby teases. I can tell by his tone that he's mocking the invading questions I'm likely to face.

"No, I'm bisexual."

"That just means you're greedy."

Okay, that took me by surprise. Toby laughs.

"When are you going to be over this phase?" Toby continues instead of waiting for a response.

"It's not a phase," I answer, narrowing my eyes. "That's just a shit thing to assume."

Toby's mouth lands on mine and I pull him from his stool so he's haphazardly draped over my lap. "You're going to get a lot of offensive questions," he says. "Are you ready for that?"

"Ready or not, I'm not hiding you anymore. I'm so fucking happy, Toby. You make me happy. And fuck everyone who can't accept and support that."

He sighs, pressing his lips to mine again. There's something sweet in this kiss. I'm not sure what it is, but I lap it up until my entire body is humming with the warmth Toby gives me.